It was just that the thought of an evening without Nick, even one of Vassily’s musical soirées, which she ordinarily loved, was painful in the extreme. Which meant, of course, that she was in for a great deal of pain in the very near future.

Parker’s Ridge

November 21

She was thinking about him—mooning over him, really—when all of a sudden, like magic, there he was.

Nick. Her Nick. Such a delicious thought, however much she chided herself for it.

Her Nick.

He wasn’t hers, or if he was, it was just temporary, but still. It sounded so nice.

It had been a very slow day at the library. The snow had stopped around noon but the sullen pewter sky promised more, once the temperature dropped at nightfall. The few people venturing out of their warm houses and offices did so for reasons more pressing than to return a library book.

Coming in this morning had almost been a shock after the intense weekend of sex and intimacy with Nick, the two of them cocooned in her house, closed off from the outside world.

The weekend had changed her, inside and out. She felt like a completely different woman. She even moved like a different woman, a woman who’d had more sex in the past forty-eight hours than in the past eight years.

Everything about her felt different. Every time she moved, she felt her body. And she actually felt her vagina. It was a little bit of soreness, yes—he was big, after all—but more than anything else, it was an intense awareness of the area between her thighs. Just amazing. It was a part of her anatomy she never, ever thought about, neatly tucked away up inside her body. Oh, she had the odd tingle reading a hot romance or watching her favorite actors. George Clooney would do it every time.

But this was completely different. She felt it. All of it, deep inside her body and when she moved, it was as if she could still feel Nick, hard and hot inside her.

Her breasts felt heavy and supersensitive. She had on a lace bra she’d worn at least fifty times before without even thinking about it. Today, she could feel the pattern of the lace against her breasts, and her nipples rubbed against the bra. Nick sucked her nipples often and they’d become supersensitized, too.

But it wasn’t just a question of her erogenous zones, though of course they’d been revved up beyond anything she’d ever experienced. No, it was odd bits of her body coming to life that surprised her.

Her ankles. There, neat and tidy at the end of her legs. She never thought about them, ever. And yet last night, Nick had kissed them over and over again, saying he’d never seen a prettier pair and ever since then, she caught herself looking down at her ankles and smiling.

Her neck. Wow. That had turned out to be one of her top erogenous zones. Who knew? Nick had somehow known. Every time he put his lips to that one particular spot under her ear, she broke out in goose bumps.

She was thinking about that, about the lazy way he’d licked her neck this morning, while his thumb rubbed over her nipple, when she saw Nick, appearing suddenly out of the icy mist.

She was staring dreamily out the big library window, thinking of him and for a moment, it was almost like a scene out of a movie.

The big, handsome man, black haired and blue eyed, tall and strong, striding out from the mist. He walked like a gunslinger, loose and lanky, big heavy coat swirling around his legs, looking right and then left, checking out the situation. He was always intensely aware of his surroundings, more like a sentry or a soldier than a businessman.

Watching him appear out of the mist, for a second she thought What a looker. And then, in an intense burst of pride, she thought That looker’s mine. For the time being, ladies, hands off because that one’s mine.

As he crossed the street, Nick looked up and met her gaze and Charity’s breath froze in her chest.

Time slowed, stilled. Her heartbeat thickened, sounded loud in her ears. She watched him, utterly unable to move, as he crossed the street. Long-legged strides, hands deep in his overcoat, hatless. He walked directly under the streetlamp and his hair shone blue-black in the feeble light.

Each stride was met with an equal thump in her chest as he came closer, closer, never taking his gaze from hers through the big plate-glass window of the library.

As Charity watched him watching her, her body automatically readied itself for him. Her skin felt feverish, prickly. Her blood pulsed thickly through her veins, in time with his strides. The muscles in her groin tightened, the muscles in her belly clenched. Her breasts felt hot and swollen, pushing against her bra. She could feel the inner muscles of her sheath softening, growing moist.

Did he know what was happening to her body?

Nick looked grim, jaw muscles clenching, eyes never leaving hers. His eyes were glowing, a mystical cobalt blue that penetrated deep inside her skull.

For a second he disappeared and then he was at the door, pulling it open to let a gust of cold air enter. She welcomed the burst of cold air moving over her skin, cooling it, because when he walked through the door, she felt a blast of internal heat so intense it was like walking in front of a furnace.

Nick didn’t break his stride and he didn’t greet her. He took in the empty library in a glance then took her elbow in his hand, propelling her toward the back.

His grip didn’t hurt but it was unbreakable. Charity found herself scrambling to keep up with him.

They were at the back before she could gather her wits about her.

“Nick? What are you—ah …”

What he was doing became clear as he herded her into the supply room and closed the door. There was only a dim 20-watt lightbulb high up in the ceiling but it was certainly enough to see his expression by.

Her heart rate kicked up.

Nick advanced slowly and she backed away. Not out of fear but out of excitement at the heat in his eyes. She stopped when her back hit the wall and, a second later, Nick’s hands slapped against the wall on either side of her head.

His head moved down as her eyelids drifted closed. Her head fell back, tipped against the wall. She expected one of his bone-melting kisses, but he stopped just before fitting his mouth to hers. She could feel his hot breath washing over her face.

“Hello, gorgeous,” he whispered.

Charity smiled without opening her eyes. “Hello,” she whispered back.

“Did you miss me?”

Every cell in her body had missed him. “You have no idea.”

Nick leaned in, pressing his entire body against hers. “Oh yeah,” he said softly. “I have an idea.”

His freezing overcoat was a shock against Charity’s bare overheated skin. Her shins, wrists, cheeks. Nick leaned even more heavily against her, shuffling his feet between hers, so she was forced to widen her stance.

He gathered her skirt in his big, cold hands and started pulling it up, bare knuckles icy against her thighs. Charity clutched the lapels of his overcoat for balance.

She didn’t open her eyes. She couldn’t. Everything in her was concentrated inward, on all the sensations evoked by his heavy, strong, cold body.

The heat burning her up inside and the contrasting chill against her skin. The soft cashmere of the coat contrasting with the roughness of his hands.

Her skirt started hiking up and she could feel the cold of his clothes against her thighs.

He was pressing against her so hard now that she could feel his erection through the layers of clothes, hers and his. He was huge.

She gave a half laugh. “You were thinking about this.”

He nuzzled her neck. “Oh yeah,” he breathed.

Charity shifted a little, brushing her mound against the erection, feeling it grow even longer, thicker. Oh God, this was so exciting!