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The next morning, as she slowly came back to consciousness, Isabelle realized she’d never been happier in her life. A night spent in Lyle’s arms, snuggled next to the heat of his powerful body, surfacing for more bouts of lovemaking whenever either of them got the urge, was like Christmas morning …
Actually, it was Christmas morning. She sat bolt upright, filled with the rush of excitement that used to overtake her as a child. She shook Lyle awake. “Merry Christmas! Wake up, it’s Christmas!”
His head was sunk deep in his pillow, one arm covering most of his face. He opened one bleary eye. “Still?”
“Yes, still. I mean, really Christmas, like time for bagels and presents.”
She jumped off the bed and raced across her room to find her favorite fuzzy pajamas, then realized she wasn’t ac
