Ashley Summers - That Loving Touch

She was incredibly sexy. He felt the heat rise.

“Sam?”

Caught staring, Sam reddened. “No thanks necessary,” he said brusquely. He wanted very much to make love to her. Tread softly, Sam. His warning had a cooling effect. “The phones are still out,” he continued briskly. “But I heard the snowplow earlier this morning, so after breakfast I’ll hike back to my truck, get my other cell phone and call Dr. Hewlett for you—”

“That’s not necessary,” Carrie interrupted. She didn’t want Sam talking to her doctor! She’d go alone, when she got her car back. “I’m all right now. Still a little washedout, but I’m fine, really. Quite able to move on to my own cottage.” She sat down and accepted a mug of tea. “That’s bound to be a relief to you. Knowing I’ll soon be out of your hair, I mean.”

“You bet I’m relieved-I was really worried last night,” Sam said, ignoring the rest of her statement. He grinned. “You look about twelve years old in that getup.”

She blushed pink as her sweat suit. “I’m twenty-eight, Sam. I’ve been sick and I didn’t bother with makeup—what do you expect?” she retorted.

“You look all right,” Sam said shortly. There was something too personal in their exchange. Besides, she was barefoot. Why the hell was she barefoot? Only the bedrooms were carpeted, the rest of the place had hardwood floors. “I’d advise wearing shoes while you’re here. These floors are very cold,” he said irritably. “Here, fix yourself a plate.”

“In a minute.” She tucked her culpable feet under the chair. “I’m not really hungry.”

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