If Only (The Willowbrook Series Book 1) Read Online Free PDF Page B

to put his dreams on hold to love her right and completely, like she deserved to be. Rhys wasn’t ready. Not when he was so close to achieving his goal.
     
     

Chapter Four
    The knock on her door roused her out of her light sleep. It wasn’t the incessant knocking, but rather the arctic temperature of her place that got her attention. Asa jumped out of bed, tossed on some clothes, and threw open her sheer curtains. White everywhere .
    From the front of the house, the knocking grew louder. She rushed for the door and was ready to yank it open, but caution reminded her to glance out the window first. Drawing apart the curtain, her gaze met Rhys’s. He stared back, one of his brows lifting as though he questioned why he was still out there in the freezing cold.
    There were many reasons to keep the door shut. One, Asa wasn’t ready to speak to him. Two, she wasn’t vain, but the thought of him seeing her with her hair a mess and pillow marks on her face had her cringing. And finally, she couldn’t get over the fact it had snowed. She wasn’t prepared, and Rhys would soon realize that, calling attention to another fault of hers.
    To get him to go away, she opened the door a crack. “I have nothing to say to you, Rhys Miles, other than I’m sorry for your loss.”
    He nodded, but didn’t leave. A low growl started in her throat. Didn’t he get the message he needed to go so she could run to the woodshed and get firewood for a fire she didn’t know how to make?
    “I came by to check on you. Jo’s generator kicked on which means the power is out. Do you have enough firewood? Hell, can you even start a fire?”
    What the—? Had she hear him right, and his words were meant to come across as a double meaning, implying she wasn’t capable of turning a man on? Thinking he did, Asa clenched her teeth and yanked the door wide open. To hell with her appearance .
    “For your information, I can start a fire without a damn match. And I have enough firewood to last me months.” She could question her abilities to seduce a man but she wouldn’t tolerate Rhys’s below-the-belt jab.
    Realizing her temper had reared its ugly head, she forced her body to relax. “Show me.”
    She would have given him the death glare at the underlying challenge in his voice, but he had his hands steepled over his mouth while he shifted from one foot to the other. White puffs of condensation lingered in the air. Grumbling, she grabbed him by the elbow and tugged him inside. The house might not be warm but it beat being outside.
    They stood in her living room and stared at one another in silence. Minutes ticked by.
    He looked her up and down, his gaze settling on her chest. Her cheeks flushing and her nipples in tight balls, she resisted the urge to cross her arms over herself. In her rush, she’d forgotten to wear a damn bra.
    And now that she was more awake, she was aware of the cold over the bare skin above her cleavage, on her arms and her stomach. Glancing down, she discovered she had grabbed the shirt she had bought by mistake, a shirt that was two sizes too small. Her B-size breasts were ready to show themselves to the wor—to Rhys.
    Again suppressing the compulsion to shield her body from his fiery stare, she stayed rooted to the floor with her arms hanging loose at her sides. He wouldn’t be here long, she reasoned, and he ogled only because there was no other female except her.
    But the longer he perused, the more she cared about her just-hopped-out-of-bed appearance, triggering her to thread her fingers through her tangled mess of hair. He followed her movement with seeming interest—mouth slightly parted, eyes widening.
    Without much thought to the consequences, she swayed toward him. Thank goodness she caught herself in time, inwardly scolding herself for acting the fool. Charming, friendly, kind. That was the old Rhys.
    The current Rhys was . . . “I have nothing to prove or say to you. Our friendship ended months