By Jennifer Greene, Merline Lovelace, Cindi Myers
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Additional info for Baby, It's Cold Outside
His long thighs were more unyielding than rope. The man was made of taut muscle, no give to him. The heat of his chest against her back kindled an unexpected furnace in her mind, her heart, her hormones. It had been so long since she’d slept next to a man. There’d been a boy in college. Thom. She’d been crazy about him. He’d been crazy about her. The relationship had been hot and fast and wonderful…but then she’d gone off to med school and he’d gone off to his life. Both were on the same good-person track.
Just ahead of her was the sweep of living space, dominated by the man-tall white stone fireplace. The hearth screen darkened the already shadowed room, but she could still make out the healthy bed of golden embers. The furnace was going strong, but building up a serious fire would add a ton of warmth. Three huge leather couches framed the hearth. She dropped the books and spare clothes on one, turned around and abruptly connected with something solid—something big and bulky and strangely warm. She tripped over the object and heard a groan—a human groan, a human male groan.
I’ve looked everywhere. There’s nothing here. Just this hole…” He sighed. ” “No. But my dad did. I know it’s a great oven. Makes fantastic bread and potatoes…sometimes pies…” He didn’t say, “There is no turn-on button, princess,” because he was pretty sure that would sound condescending. He didn’t want to aggravate her unnecessarily when there were so many things he had to cover that were all too likely to get her dander up. ” “First, the oven either has to have a functional exhaust fan, or a flue.