Body Heat (Vintage Category Romance) Read Online Free Page A

chest of drawers, pulled on an undershirt and a green plaid flannel-shirt over that. Blaire was suddenly disappointed. She wanted to inspect him a little longer.
    He changed his socks and laced up ankle high work boots over them, and then straightened. He looked like he’d just stepped off a magazine page advertisement for one of those old cigarette company ads—rugged and devastatingly handsome. Definitely Alpha male, through and through.
    Yes, Darian MacGlenary had aged well. A little rough around the edges, scruffy beard and shaggy hair and all, but overall, he had aged quite nicely.
    Then he pointed his gaze directly at her. “Going out for wood.”
    Shit. He knew she was watching him all along. Blaire nodded, pulled the covers back a bit, and then called out, “You are Darian MacGlenary, aren’t you?”
    His gaze held hers for the briefest moment before speaking to her in an almost gruff tone. “That who you’re looking for?”
    She paused a minute before answering. “Yes.”
    “ Why?”
    “ That’s between me and him. Or you, if you’re MacGlenary.”
    “ I see.”
    Blaire was tired of the games. “Are you him or not?”
    It took another minute for him to answer. “Maybe.”
    Then he turned and left. He was MacGlenary, she was certain. He was being as mysterious about himself, as were all the others. She just wasn’t sure why.
    Blaire glanced around the cabin. His humble abode consisted of a one-room log cabin, no electricity, she imagined, the bed, an arm chair, a rough-hewn table with two chairs he probably made himself, the fireplace and wood burner, and a small variety of other furnishings and necessities scattered about. Definitely a man’s home, Blaire thought, for a woman would definitely insist on more of the amenities of life. Like a bathroom.
    Heavy footsteps reverberated on the porch outside the front door, and she decided to feign sleep. She was a bit sleepy. And tired. The hike in had taken it out of her. So she justified the need to roll over on her left side and close her eyes. For just a short while.
    Her last thought was how she could figure out what made Darian MacGlenary tick. What made him the way he is?
    ****
    A cold front had settled over the hollow during the night, leaving a fairyland of frost in the woods surrounding the cabin. Darian hoisted an armload of split wood to his chest, saw his breath fan out around his mouth as he exhaled, and lumbered for the cabin. Upon entering, his gaze immediately settled on his bed and the pixie in it. She had turned her back to him and drawn the covers up over her shoulders. He could barely see the top of her strawberry blond head.
    Darian grumbled under his breath and kicked the door shut behind him. She flinched just a little under the covers as it made contact with the frame. He made his way to the fireplace. A few moments later, after bringing the dying fire back to life, he then started another in the wood burning stove so he could make coffee. And in a little while, breakfast.
    He wondered if she was hungry. Probably. She’d been walking around in the woods nearly all day yesterday and he doubted she had any sense to pack her anything to eat. She needed rest, but her body needed nourishment as well, so he’d let her sleep for a while, and then he’d wake her for something to eat.
    So he sat, drinking his coffee, watching her sleep. Or what little he could see of her anyway. What thing brought her to him? He guessed he’d find out it due time. He’d been rough on her, he admitted. Rude. Not telling her if they’d slept together, not telling her his name, but he had to be noncommittal. He needed to feel her out slowly.
    Feel her out slowly.
    He hardened at the play on words, thinking of his tortured night. His dreams had held an erotic bent to them throughout the night. He’d only wanted to warm her, to save her life. And as he lay beside her, just before he drifted off to sleep, he’d patted himself on the back for his ability to