Arranging Love Read Online Free PDF

but since childhood her mother had fixed the soothing beverage when night terrors pulled her screaming from sleep.
    Covering her flimsy babydoll nightie with a silk bathrobe, she slipped her feet into fuzzy slippers. Not too sexy, but definitely better than bare feet. She reached for the knob just as the room plunged into darkness. A chill of fear coiled in her belly, and she stood listening to the pounding of her heart and rush of wind. The storm had obviously knocked out the power. Meghan debated crawling back into bed, turning on the vibrator, and forgetting the weather. But Maine storms could be long, and she needed to get the kerosene heater running downstairs, or her house would become bone-chillingly cold. Guess it was just as well the storm had pulled her from slumber.
    Meghan debated lighting the candle on the dresser, but fumbling in the dark for matches sounded more time-consuming than padding downstairs. A flashlight was only as far away as the kitchen, and it was basically a straight shot down the stairs and through the front hall to get there. Treading down the stairs, she focused on the task at hand and headed down the hall. The light tap of footfalls froze her foot in mid-step. She thought she saw a shadow shift in the kitchen, but in the pitch black, she couldn’t be certain. Meghan tiptoed backward. Then another thump of feet and she screamed. Mr. Jingles came scrambling out of the kitchen, mewling loudly at her.
    All she could do was laugh at her own fear. Stupid cat. Surely he’d been up on the counter again, and the thump of feet was the little scoundrel sensing her presence. She picked him up and snuggled into his silken fur. His purring slowed her beating heart. He had been with her since her teen years, and she couldn’t remember a time when he hadn’t slept at the foot of her bed. All through college, her mother had said the poor animal wandered around the house, happiest only when she was home on vacation.
    Meghan carried Mr. Jingles into the kitchen and scooted around the dinette set. Staring out the patio windows, she wondered how long the storm would continue. Even in the darkness, the heavy snow glowed eerily on the trees. The branches bent and swayed in a mesmerizing ballet with the wind. It was beautiful to watch, but if it continued to ground planes, Meghan would be a basket case. Mr. Jingles meowed and squirmed out of her arms.
    On a heavy sigh, she headed for a flashlight in the bottom drawer by the sink, intent on starting the heater and snuggling back into bed. With the electricity out, heating milk was out of the question. As she stepped around the counter, someone caught her. One arm came around her chest, pinning her arms, while the other snaked up from behind and captured her surprised scream.
    “Hello, Meghan,” said the man, the deep timbre of his voice hot on her neck.
    Meghan’s heart pounded wildly in her throat. Her nostrils flared, filling with a familiar cologne. She could hear the rasp of his excited breathing, feel his erection pressed against her derriere. She knew the feel of his body pressed against her. Fear released its grip on her muscles.
    “I wanted to surprise you upstairs, but you came to me instead.” His hand slid from her neck to her breast, and she gasped with need. “You recognize me, don’t you, Meghan? Your body gives you away.” His teeth grazed her neck, sending shivers shimmying down her spine. “Pretend with me. Pretend you don’t. Isn’t it every woman’s fantasy to be caught unaware in the dark by a man intent on having his way with her?” He ground his arousal into her back.
    Guilt coiled in her belly. She shouldn’t be giving into this fantasy, but he was right—at the moment, this felt a little wrong—and that, along with the solid feel of a man’s body pressed to hers, was heating her blood and making it hard to think rationally. God help her. She wanted to be a little wicked and try something new, even if her fantasy didn’t