The icy cold woke Ella. Disoriented, because the subtle glow of her nightlight wasn’t present, she shivered beneath the weight of three heavy blankets. She peered through the absolute darkness, frowning until she recalled she was sleeping on the couch. The too-short couch, she’d discovered during her first stretch. The fire no longer burned in the hearth, and desperate for warmth, she decided she’d crawl into Dillon’s bed. After all, he’d surprised her by doing the same.
It wasn’t that she had designs on his muscular body.
She scowled.
Well, maybe she did.
A woman wasn’t alive if she didn’t look at Dillon Williams and wonder exactly how hard those muscles would bounce against her fingertips. What sort of lover he’d be? Not even that wild, bushy beard of his was enough to put her off no
