“What the—who the—where are you?”
Imogen twitched her nose and a new view, hexagonal now, revealed a man spinning in a tight circle, a hand clutched over his heart.
Dear God, had she shot him? She thrust into a seated position. The snowflake didn’t budge, somehow stuck in the flyaway hairs at her forehead. She raised both hands to untangle it and called, “Are you hurt?”
The spinning man stopped and faced her. “Should I be?”
The snowflake crumpled in her fist at his tone. It was the same incredulous tone her fiancé had used when she revealed she had no plans to relegate her profession to a hobby once they married. Yanking the snowflake free, she opened her mouth to deliver a much-needed skewering.
“Listen here, you vile intruder—glug.”
Imogen lost her train of thought. She was far too busy staring at the very attractive—and very naked—man illuminated by the fading light shining through the window. She skipped his profile, surely a waste of time when she only had seconds before he covered up. She started at his wide shoulders and worked her way down, devouring him inch by inch. As an artist, she’d seen her fair share of nude models. Had developed a reverence for the human form with all its perfect imperfections.
This man’s body robbed her of coherent speech.
His broad chest heaved with each deep breath, and his clenched hands hovered on each side of his abdomen. She ignored the threatening stance, too intrigued by the pronounced dips between each muscle. But what truly fascinated her were the freckles scattered over his body in random, intricate patterns. Two bands of freckles, dense as the Milky Way, started above the vees in his hips, curved around his groin, and ended mid-thigh.
Two celestial parentheses illuminating his crotch.
So she stared. How could she not?
His cock jutted from its nest of red-blonde curls. She was entranced by its slight upward curve. The man shifted on his feet, and his cock bobbed and dipped like it was waving hello.
She licked her very dry, very numb lips.
“Oh, I see,” she said faintly. “Danger arouses you.”
The man’s large hands shot forward to cover his cock. “Danger does not—I was—” He let out a growl like a bear denied its honey. “I was dreaming.”
“Dreaming about what? Your mother?”
The silence that followed was thicker than a church door.
On one very sane level, Imogen knew it was dangerous to taunt a naked man. Especially when her only means of defense was halfway across the room. But this man had invaded her space. And when had she ever done as expected? Her muscles coiled, ready to spring into action should the man move one hairy toe in her direction. Instead, he broke into boisterous laughter.
“I should have known the owner of this cabin would be a rare bird.”
Biting back her own smile, Imogen finally stopped staring at the man’s solid thighs and met his gaze. An instant later, the room went fuzzy at the edges and her fingers flew to her parted lips.
It had been years since she’d last seen those brilliant blue eyes, but she’d know them anywhere. They belonged to the boy who’d chased away the cruel children teasing her when she was ten years old. The boy who picked her book out of the mud and asked her what it was about. The boy who turned out to be the son of the new hired help, and who had transformed her lonely existence into something exhilarating. Who had been her best friend for six, wonderful years…until he’d broken her heart.
“Tommy?”
The man’s good humor evaporated like water hissing on a hot iron. “Move forward,” he barked. “Show your face.”
Shoving to her feet, she resisted the temptation to smooth her rumpled hair or straighten her crooked coat. If there was one person on earth she needn’t bother to impress, it was Tommy. He’d see right through the attempt, anyway. She lifted her chin and stepped into the light.
“Imogen?”
Her stomach somersaulted at the thread of hope in his voice. “It’s me.”
His teeth worried at his full bottom lip as he continued to stare. The familiar, unconscious habit comforted her. Perhaps a glimmer of the boy she’d known—and loved—had survived after all this time. At last, his lips twisted into a half smile.
“Looks like you finally grew into those big eyes of yours.”
So that’s how he wanted to play their reunion. It didn’t really surprise her. Tommy had always shied away from discussing the harder things in life. Glossed right over them like a polished marble floor. As tempted as she was to flay him open, she would oblige. It would be a nice break from sobbing into her mountain of pillows.
“Too bad I can’t say the same about your ears.”
