Footprints in the Snow. Cassie Miles

      “After a couple of aspirin. First, you need to eat something to elevate your blood sugar.”

      He crossed the two steps from the table to the bed and held out a Baby Ruth. When she took it from him, their hands touched. An electric spark shot up his arm.

      She’d felt it, too. A gasp escaped her lips. Her dark brown eyes widened in surprise.

      “Thank you,” she whispered. “For the chocolate.”

      Shana couldn’t quite believe the explosion of energy and awareness that came when they accidentally touched. That electric sensation was almost enough to make her forget that her head ached and her body was stiff and sore. Luke Rawlins was quite a man.

      Immediately she knew that she needed to be careful around him. He reminded her of a lot of the guys she’d worked with on exploration and drilling sites. They fancied themselves to be superstuds, and she’d learned long ago to keep her distance. She didn’t want to be just another notch on the bedpost.

      Purposefully, she looked away from Luke and concentrated on the tangible facts. She was glad to be here and to be warm, blessedly warm. A cast-iron potbellied stove stood near the door where their parkas hung on hooks. There were no extra frills in this small, one-room cabin lit by the amber glow of lanterns. A hut. She knew a bit about this system of simple log cabins that had been constructed in the 1940s by the 10th Mountain Division. In Leadville, there were dozens of memorials to these World War II heroes. “Didn’t you say that you were with the 10th Mountain Division?”

      “That’s right.”

      “Those guys were supposed to be the best skiers, mountain climbers and sharpshooters in the world. Elite commandos.”

      “We still are.”

      As she peeled the wrapper off her Baby Ruth, she dared to study this soldier in his army-green fatigues—kind of a weird outfit for somebody who was on vacation at a mountain hut. But she was willing to excuse this minor eccentricity. The man had saved her life. Also, he was remarkably good-looking with deep-set blue eyes and the tanned complexion of an outdoorsman. His brown hair was short in a no-nonsense military cut that worked for him. She guessed that he was in his early thirties. If she’d been in the market for a man, he’d be the right age.

      But she wasn’t looking. Or was she? There was a sense of destiny about being here, being with him. Destiny? Yeah, sure. She believed in science, not kismet. Trying to ignore the twinges of pain inside her head, she nibbled at her candy bar and sipped the water. Rehydration was important.

      He tapped a cigarette from the pack, flipped open a Zippo lighter and lit up. Though she hated the tobacco smell, she was pleased. The fact that he had at least one disgusting habit was proof that he wasn’t perfect. Not the right guy for me.

      When he stood, she realized how tall he was—at least four inches over six feet. His body was lean but muscular with square shoulders, and he was obviously in excellent condition. Even in his poorly fitted fatigues, his muscular thighs bulged.

      “I should thank you again,” she said. “You saved my life.”

      “My pleasure.” He went to the potbellied stove, opened the latched door and laid another piece of wood on the fire.

      His pleasure? A shiver of awareness rippled through her. Beneath the quilts and blankets on the bed, she wore nothing but an oversize olive-drab T-shirt. Near the door, she saw her ski pants and her turtleneck hung up to dry. But she didn’t remember getting undressed. Her fingers plucked at the cotton fabric of T-shirt. “Is this yours?”

      “I had to strip off those wet clothes so you could warm up. But don’t worry. I kept my eyes closed.”

      Stripped naked by a stranger. She should have been humiliated, wildly embarrassed. Kept his eyes closed? Yeah, right.

      When she gazed accusingly into his coolly assessing blue eyes, she saw a hint of approval. Then he grinned. Apparently, he’d been pleased by what he’d seen when he changed her clothes.

      In normal circumstances, she would have lashed out, making it very clear that he would never ever see her naked again. Instead, a lovely warmth blossomed inside her. She could do a lot worse than being swept off her feet by Luke Rawlins. “I’ll have that aspirin now.”

      He tossed her a small glass bottle and returned to the chair where he sat and stretched out his long legs. Leaning back, he took a puff on his cigarette and exhaled a cloud of blue smoke.

      Slightly mesmerized, she watched. He even made smoking look sexy. Quickly, she gulped down three aspirin. She really ought to get out of here before she did something she’d regret. Like throwing herself into his arms. Or ripping off her T-shirt. Or, better yet, tearing off his clothes piece by piece. “I should go now. I’ve already imposed too much on your hospitality.”

      “It’s late, Shana. Almost dark. You’re going nowhere tonight.”

      She peered through the frost-rimed glass of the only window in the cabin. Outside, it was heavy and gray but the blizzard seemed to have stopped. She was aware of the wind whistling through the branches of the pine trees and sweeping against the log walls of the cabin. “Do you have a car? Or a snowmobile? Some kind of transportation?”

      “Just my skis.”

      “Maybe I could call for help. Do you have my pack?”

      He went toward the door, picked up her pack and set it on the bed beside her. She sifted through the contents until she found her cell phone, which was totally dead. “Broken. I must have landed on it when I fell.”

      She was stranded. Tucked away in a cozy, warm cabin with the sexiest man she’d ever seen. This felt like a fantasy. A dream. But he was here and real—far too potent to vanish when she blinked her eyes.

      Needing to assess the situation, she threw off the blankets and climbed out of the bed. In a few strides, she crossed to the door and pulled it open. A blast of cold hit her bare legs. Though the snow had stopped, a drift came all the way up to the cabin’s door and trickled inside. They were in the forest at the edge of a clearing. She saw no sign of other houses. No lights. No roads. Nothing but complete isolation.

      Luke came up behind her and shoved the door closed. “You’re here for the night.”

      When she looked up into his face, she didn’t want to leave. Wearing only his T-shirt, she should have been cold. Instead, a glowing heat churned through her veins. Strange. She was light-headed, oddly disconnected.

      He touched her forehead. “You’re hot.”

      “So are you,” she said. “If we rub together, maybe we’ll start a forest fire.”

      A smile lifted the corner of his mouth. “I meant to say that you might have a fever.”

      “But I don’t feel sick. Not really sick.” But not herself. Her common sense seemed to have vanished, whisked away by the swirling snows on the mountain. She’d been transported to a magical place where normal concerns and hesitations did not apply.

      Reaching out, she placed her palm flat against his chest. Through his army fatigues, she felt the steady, strong beating of his heart. The rhythm echoed through her and synchronized perfectly with her own pulse—two hearts beating as one. She was a part of him. Inseparable and needing a deeper connection.

      She tilted her chin up. Her lips parted.

      When he kissed her, he took his time. She tasted whiskey on his mouth. Slowly, he deepened the kiss.

      His arms surrounded her, supporting her. His body pressed against hers. She seemed to rise off the floor, floating on a cloud. A spiral of tingling sensation unfurled and spread from her head to her heart to every intimate part of her.

      When his lips left hers, she gazed up at his ruggedly handsome face. Her vision went hazy. Her headache became a steady pulse. Throbbing, but not painful.

      She couldn’t believe this was really happening. A strong,