Coming in from the Cold Read Online Free PDF Page A

hand, his thumb warming her palm. “If I get to judge, I’d say you win a raisin.”
    Willow popped one into her mouth. “Your turn.”
    “Okay,” Dane said, “I’ve learned that airplane food is universally bad, no matter where you go in the world. That’s not just a cliché.”
    This time, when Willow brought a raisin toward him in the dark, he caught her hand and raised it to his mouth. Her palm brushed his chin as he guided the raisin to his lips. “Thanks,” he whispered. “So it’s your turn.”
    She laced her fingers in his. His hand was so much bigger than hers. So warm and strong. “Hmm…I’ve learned that you can keep guacamole from turning brown by pressing plastic wrap across the surface.”
    “There you go again, mentioning food,” he scolded.
    His fingers brushed the sensitive skin above her wrist, and Willow was glad that the darkness prevented him from seeing her face. The sensation made her close her eyes. “But
you
mentioned food,” she whispered. She was beginning to feel giddy. Being trapped in a car in a storm should have made her feel stupid. Instead, she was pointlessly and inappropriately happy.
    “
Big
difference. I mentioned
bad
food. Your homemade guacamole versus airplane food—in a cage match, who wins?”
    “My guacamole, of course,” she giggled. “But you have no way of knowing that. Come on. Tell me something empirically true, and I’ll give you another raisin.”
    He sighed, and the sound of it made her wish she could feel his breath against her face. “Okay. If you don’t look at the needle, it really does hurt less.”
    Well,
that
was a bit dark. “Sure…” Her pulse began to race. It was crazy to touch this stranger. It was crazy, and she really wasn’t the type. But something about him made it difficult to stop. Willow reached into her pocket and retrieved another raisin. This time, she raised it to his mouth herself, sweeping her finger very deliberately across his lower lip before slipping it onto his tongue. He closed his lips, catching her two fingers in his mouth. He sucked the tip of her forefinger as she pulled it away.
    Good God, it was sexy.
    “Your turn,” he whispered.
    Willow felt light-headed. That was the only explanation she could give for what she said next. “Lately,” she whispered, “I’ve learned that not all bad days end that way.” It was too dark to read his expression, even if she were brave enough to look.
    In answer, he squeezed her hand. Then he tugged gently on it, pulling her toward himself. Willow held her breath, wondering if he was about to do what she hoped he was about to do.
    It was very, very dark.
    She felt his breath on her face before his lips found her cheekbone. He paused there, for two beats of her heart, his mouth offering a sensuous brush against her skin. Then, with a sigh, he turned his chin to find her mouth. The first kiss was small, a sweep of soft lips across hers, coming to rest at the sensitive corner of her mouth. “Is this okay?” he whispered. The words vibrated on her face. “If you tell me to fuck off, I’ll understand.”
    Willow answered him by brushing the tip of her nose very gently up the length of his face and then down again. Dane’s next kiss brought his soft mouth over hers. And again he paused. But it was less a hesitation than a moment of heightened anticipation. Her heart practically stopped beating while she waited for his next move. And then his lips parted her own, his tongue sliding inside. And when she met him there, tasting him, he gave a low moan, and the sound made her heart skitter.
    She felt both of his hands rise to the nape of her neck, his fingers detouring under her knit hat, into her hair. Then she was pulled closer, his kisses drinking her in, nibbling her lips, scorching her tongue. The effect was exhilarating, and suddenly her body was too far from his, the damned car too constraining. She wanted to feel her own arms encircling him, to know more about him than