Joseph limped
toward Sophie and sank to his knees in front of her. He swiped at her tears
with his thumbs. His palms lingered against her cheeks. Her skin was as cold as
fresh snow in winter. A strong urge to kiss her again seared his insides.
Joseph refused to contemplate his reaction to her. He had to stop this nonsense
thinking. She was as soft and delicate as an alpine flower, and not suited for
a life in his mountains. After she’d get
a taste of winter in the Tetons, she would hightail it back to Boston as soon
as the passes cleared next spring. He’d told himself repeatedly that he
wouldn’t care for another woman who would only trample all over his heart when
she returned to her former existence.
“Princess,
you need to get out of these wet clothes,” he said slowly, his eyes on her.
What sort of a reaction would his comment receive? “You’ll freeze to death
otherwise.” He held out his dry shirt. “You can put this on while your things
dry out.”
Love your photo today of the Tetons! And I love your stories! Just wanted to say hi. :-)
ReplyDeletejdh2690@gmail.com
Hi Janice! Thanks for stopping by. Isn't that a gorgeous photo? That picture is part of the cover for this book. Oops...I'm not supposed to talk about that yet ;-)
Delete