As the afternoon sun struggled to pierce through the winter haze, a blanket of frost clung stubbornly to every surface of the mountain house.
Propped up against the soft pillow in the master bedroom's huge bed, Mia gazed at the dishes on the low table in front of the fireplace across the room. They had eaten a late breakfast there, and then Neil had taken her back to his bed and made love to her again. He'd kept her awake most of the night, making love to her with a mixture of demanding urgency and exquisite tenderness that Mia found wildly exciting and tormentingly sweet.
Each time he finished, he pulled her into his arms and held her close while they dozed into deep sleep. Now it was past noon, and she was sitting beside him on the bed, curved against his body, his arm wrapped around her shoulders, his hand lazily caressing her arm as they silently watched the snow covered mountains from the glass wall of his room.
