The One Winter Collection. Rebecca Winters

aware that all her life she had been telling people how to treat her.

      Now she had ridden a horse. Now she had breathed his essence deep inside her. Now she had to step up and claim her own space.

      “Hello, Cynthia, it’s Amy.”

      “I have been so worried! I was within a hairbreadth of calling the police.”

      Cynthia’s tone was wounded, and of course she would not have called the police. It was just her way of letting Amy know she felt her negligence was nearly criminal. She bit back the impulse to apologize.

      Instead, she pictured walking up to that horse and not giving an inch.

      “Cynthia,” she said firmly, “while I appreciate your concern, I’m fine. Jamey is fine. I just wanted to let you know we won’t be there for Christmas dinner. You’ve probably seen on the news that the roads are closed out this way. I’m at the end of a long driveway. It’s going to take a while to dig out.”

      “But where are you? The call display still says Halliday, not McFinley. You said you were house-sitting for people called McFinley. I’ve called the number listed for them in the phone book. And there is no answer. And there is no answer at the house you called from with the so-called washer repairman. So where are you? And who was that man who answered the phone? Please don’t play me for the fool. I know it wasn’t a washer repairman. Have you met someone on the internet? It’s not safe!”

      A thousand explanations ran through Amy’s head, and then feeling sweet relief she realized she did not have to make any of them.

      “Cynthia, I need you to listen carefully. I love you and I appreciate your concern for me and for Jamey. But I am an adult woman. I do not need to report to you.”

      “Please just come back!”

      “I won’t be coming back. Not to live there.”

      “But John and I are in such a comfortable position to look after you.”

      “I don’t want to be looked after.”

      “Think of Jamey! We are in a far better position to give him everything he could ever want than you will ever be!”

      There it was, what was always there: the underlying lack of faith in her.

      “Cynthia, I want to be respected. I want to look after myself.”

      There was a long pause. “Really, Amy, this is no time to make a philosophical stand. The well-being of my grandson is at stake.”

      Truer words had never been spoken. And Amy did not want to teach her son that she could not stand on her own two feet, that she was a dependent personality without the guts or the wherewithal to make it on her own.

      Ty Halliday had just done her a big favor by rejecting her interest in him! He’d set her back on the correct path.

      “Jamey will miss you on Christmas. We’ll come for a visit as soon as the weather permits.” As she hung up on her mother-in-law, Amy felt she had never been more on her own path.

      She heard Ty get up in the morning, rustling around. She had the feeling he was trying very hard not to wake her.

      And the woman she had been when she first arrived probably would have rolled over and pretended to sleep until he left the house, leaving her to nurse her wounded ego.

      But she was not that woman anymore. She got out of bed, looked out her window for a moment, then donned her dressing gown and went into the kitchen.

      Ty was actually glaring at the coffeepot, drumming the countertop with impatient fingers waiting for it to brew. The radio was on at a very low volume next to him.

      He looked up at her, looked away, clearly not happy to see her. He removed the pot and stuck his travel mug directly under the drip.

      She ordered herself to face it head-on. “Look, Ty, I just looked out my window. Still snowing. We’re going to be stuck here together for a few more days.”

      He nodded, put the cup to his lips. “Yeah, I saw the snow, too. The road reports are the only thing on the radio. Some roads are open, but there are travel advisories on them and the weather warnings haven’t been lifted.”

      “So, you’re stuck with me.”

      He winced and rolled his shoulders uncomfortably, but didn’t argue with her blunt wording.

      “Ty, I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable in your own home. I’m not going to break into pieces because you made it clear you don’t find me attractive. You’ve done me a favor, actually. I should be all done looking for heroes.”

      He choked on the coffee. He set down the cup. He stalked over to her.

      “Don’t find you attractive? Are you crazy?”

      She looked up at him, drank in the fire in those sapphire eyes, the way his pulse beat in his throat, the tight line of his jaw.

      “I find you way too attractive, Amy.”

      “You do?” For a moment, she felt her whole world start to shift, but then she reminded herself that the new Amy Mitchell needed to be more cynical, more pragmatic. “Or you’re just saying that?”

      His mouth fell open. His eyes spit blue sparks of pure heat. “I don’t just say things. How can you not know that about me?”

      “We hardly know each other at all. It feels as if we do because of how we’ve been forced together, but I shouldn’t have said what I said last night. It put you in an awkward position. But don’t worry, I don’t plan to moon over you.”

      He moved in closer, his eyes still burning with a deep blue flame, like the one that hovered over the hottest part of a fire. And then his hand moved, almost as if it were against his will, and his finger traced the line of her mouth before his hand went to the back of her head and buried itself in her curls. He drew her close.

      The blue fire that had been in his eyes sizzled briefly in the small space between them, singeing the air, making her lips tingle.

      “Oh, Amy,” he whispered, and then he took her lips with his.

      Inferno.

      It was everything she had known it would be, and it was so much more.

      As his lips, remarkably soft, astoundingly sensual, claimed hers, her world made the final melt into his.

      The touch of his lips intensified, took charge and then surrendered to her. He was gentle, and fierce and hungry. He was tender and ruthless, taking and giving.

      It seemed to her his kiss asked her not to submit to him, but to be worthy of him. And so she gave back. Everything. For the first time in her life, she gave every single thing she was. Her gentleness. Her fury. Her hunger. Her uncertainty. Her yearning. Her dreams. Her strength.

      When it seemed as if there would be nothing left of either of them except smoldering ash, Ty pulled back from her.

      He took a step back. His shoulders were heaving as he raked his hand through his hair, tossed her a troubled look.

      She took a step toward him, not ready to let go.

      He took a step back from her.

      “Amy, we are in a complicated situation here. It is incredibly intense. Giving in to this will only make it way more complicated. That’s what I was trying to tell you last night when I walked away. Now, I’m going to my dad’s. I’ll be gone a couple of hours and that should give me a chance to cool off and put my head back on straight.”

      Terrible to be so thrilled that she was responsible for the fact he did not have his head on straight.

      “How are you getting to your dad’s in all this snow? Why don’t you just phone him?”

      “It’s complicated.”

      “Hmm. For a simple cowboy you seem to have a complicated life.”