Free Snowbound Cinderella by Ruth Langan

from the need to touch her everywhere. To feel her body move under his hands. He struggled against the sexual tug that was drawing him closer and closer to the edge of something wild and dark and primitive.
    The thought of taking her here on the floor had him trembling with need.
    “What in hell’s the matter with us?” He lifted his head, caught her roughly by the shoulders.
    Her breathing was a little too ragged to form a protest. And so she merely stared at him, hoping he couldn’t see just how much she’d been affected by this.
    “Sorry.” His fingers tightened. “The last thing either of us needs is a—complication right now.”
    Stung, she pulled away. “I’ve been handling ‘complications’ since I was a kid. Sorry if that’s how you see me.” She turned away to hide the hurt.
    He swore. “You know what I mean. We both came here to heal. I’ve never thought of casual sex as particularly healing.”
    She lifted her head, glanced over her shoulder. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that there’s no such thing as casual sex. I, for one, take it very personally.”
    That was a direct hit to his heart. His eyes narrowed. “I’ll give you this much, Hollywood. You know how to hurt a guy. But at least one of us had the good sense to stop this before it got out of hand.”
    She flushed with embarrassment. It was true. If he hadn’t stopped them, she wouldn’t have been able todo it. The truth was, she’d been too caught up in the kiss to have any sense at all.
    Jace needed some breathing room. Picking up his parka and his cigar, he headed for the door. “Don’t wait up. I’m going for a very long walk.”
    Ciara waited until the door closed, then threw the oven mitt, against the wall. What was the matter with her? Why was she constantly letting down her guard around this man? She couldn’t for the life of her understand what was happening to her.
    Her first instincts about him had been right. She couldn’t trust him. What was even worse, she couldn’t trust herself around him. There was just something about him that made her forget all her promises to herself.
    Trust. What a laugh. Hadn’t she been betrayed often enough to know that she couldn’t afford to trust anyone?
    She decided to take out her temper on the dirty dishes, scrubbing and polishing until they were done. Then she found herself doing exactly what her mother had always done when she’d been frustrated. She began dusting, rearranging, until the entire cabin gleamed. That done, she made her way to her bedroom, where she carefully hung her clothes and pulled on the oversize football jersey she wore to bed.
    She crawled between the covers, determined to put Jace Lockhart out of her mind. She’d show him that she wasn’t affected by him in the least. By the time he came back, she’d be sleeping like a baby.

Six
    C iara tossed and turned in her bed, determined to fall asleep. But the more she tried, the more restless she became. She had heard Jace return to the cabin hours ago. Had listened to his footfall as he’d climbed to the loft. By now he had probably forgotten all about their little scene and was lost in some pleasant dream fantasy.
    Why couldn’t she do the same?
    She punched the pillow and rolled to the other side, squeezing her eyes tightly shut. She wouldn’t glance at the little battery-operated travel clock on the bedside table. She didn’t want to know the time. It would only make matters worse if she found out she had the whole night ahead of her.
    She clenched her teeth. Why was she letting Jace Lockhart get under her skin like this? Just a night ago she’d thought of him as the most revolting of all creatures: a clever, cunning, intrusive reporter. Now she was angry because he’d had the wisdom to keep them both from making a terrible mistake. And he was right. It would have been a mistake to let the passion of the moment carry them along into something they’d both regret in the morning.
    But