The soup was finally ready. She wrapped a spoon in a napkin, flicked off the kitchen light and carried her steaming bowl into the living room. The fire was popping-hot now. She’d have to wake up in the night to make sure it was fed-otherwise it’d go out, and suck all their warmth out the chimney. But for now, the cherry and apple logs smelled as soothing as an old-fashioned Christmas.

She ignored the shrieking wind, as easily as she ignored the long, blanket-covered lump on the couch. Darn it, she’d earned this meal. And she was actually getting woozy-headed from exhaustion and jet lag and too many hours without something in her stomach. Quickly she settled in the giant recliner-obviously Mr. Cunningham’s favorite chair, judging from the hunting magazines stacked next to it-and reached for the spoon.

A sexy voice-a pitiful, weak, vulnerable but nevertheless sexy voice-piped up from the deep shadows of the couch. “Could I have just a little of that?”

“No.”

A moment passed, and then the voice piped up again, this time adding a desperate, ingratiating tone on top of the weak and pitiful. “It smells really good. In fact, it smells fantastic.”

“Tough. You’re not getting any food.”

When he responded with silence again this time, she had to relent. “Look. I’m not eating in front of you to be mean. There’s nowhere to sit in the kitchen and I’m beat and this is the only other room that’s really warm. Honestly, though, it’s just not a good idea for you to have food after a head bump. You could throw up.”

Like any other guy who’d made it to first base, he immediately tried for second. “I won’t. I promise I won’t.”

“So you say. But the sheriff said I was to make sure you stayed awake, check your pupils every couple of hours and not give you any food until tomorrow morning.” She scooped up more soup, still not looking at him. She still remembered the ka-boom of her heartbeat when she half carried the big lug into the living room. Then she’d had to suffer through a whole bunch more intimate body contact in the process of settling him on the couch and tucked him in again.