Page 44 of Snowed In on Valentine's Day

“Wow. Most of that sounds reasonable, but I don’t think quitting your job is standard medical advice. Your job must have been super stressful.”

He shrugged. “It was all I knew. I was thriving.”

“Or so you thought.”

He slowly nodded. “Or so I thought.”

I shook my head in wonder. “I’ve considered my job stressful at times—I mean, who hasn’t? But never to that level.” I paused. “Though I do know someone who had to quit her job in the mental health field because it became too much. She’s now my assistant—well, she’s actually an event coordinator at theresort, but she does part-time work for me too. In fact, she set up—” I halted, the blood draining from my face.

“What did she set up?” His eyebrows lifted. “What’s wrong, Hazel?”

I smacked my forehead. “Dammit, I am such a jerk.” At his look of confusion, I explained, “Itjustoccurred to me that I never messaged Roxy. I sent my agent a message from your phone the other day, but I forgot to contact Roxy. Oh, I hope she’s OK. Would you mind—” I stopped when he started to hand me his phone, and I smiled. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. But who is Roxy?”

“My assistant—she sets up my events and meetings, including the one I missed the first day of the blizzard. Oh, man, I hope Sofia let her know.” I widened my eyes. “What if Roxy’s in trouble? I hope she’s somewhere warm … then again, I think she lives downtown, so perhaps they have done some plowing there. Or maybe there’s a warm place to stay in town. Sometimes I wish I didn’t live so far on the edge of town. Though sometimes it’s nice too.”

One of his cheeks dimpled slightly as the corner of his mouth lifted. “Got it. So, are you going to message her?”

It was only a half-smile, a crooked one at that—but he was easily the most striking man I’d met in a long time. Maybe ever.

I swallowed with serious effort and bit my lip, wincing when it hurt.

His barely-there smile vanished. “Hazel?”

“Oh, uh, right. I’m going to text Roxy.”

He nodded and crossed his arms over his hard chest, which I had to tear my eyes away from.

It must be the cabin fever. I could barely think around him. Thank goodness he wasn’t smiling anymore. And rarely did.

As I texted Roxy, a cacophony of machines suddenly arose, and the bright overhead light flickered. I looked around with anticipation, waiting to see if they stayed on.

The lights and machines were alive again, signaling the power was restored. I turned and flashed Peter a wide smile, squeezing his hand as I bounced a few times on the stool.

“Come on,” I said, tugging on his hand as I stood up. He resisted the pull though. “Dance with me!”

He shook his head, his lips twitching. “No thanks. I don’t dance, and there’s no music.”

I laughed at him while twirling around. “No music? Can’t you hear that? It’s the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard.”

He was watching my every move with an expression I didn’t recognize, and I didn’t even care. Finally, he spoke, “I’ve never thought of electricity as beautiful.”

“Me neither, actually,” I said, smiling at everything around me as I danced. After a few minutes, I plopped back onto the stool and chugged the rest of my glass of lukewarm water. “Come on, let’s hurry and clean up so I can go pack!” I giggled. “Not that I have much to pack though. I never thought I’d be here so long.”

His face hardened as he rose. “Well, there’s no rush. You’ll be here at least another day. You can’t go home tonight.” And with that odd statement, he turned his back and started tidying up.

I gasped, clutching the chair to keep me steady as I processed this incomprehensible statement … no, thisdeclaration.

“What—why not? You think you can decide for me?” I asked incredulously. When he didn’t turn or speak, I spoke more loudly. “Peter? What the heck? Please tell me you’re joking.”

His head swiveled around. “I don’t joke about matters of safety. It’s not wise to leave yet,” he said, his tone harsh.

“But why?” I shook my head, dumbfounded. Why was he acting like this? “You know what, it doesn’t matter. No one else makes decisions for me. Certainly notyou.”

His lips were pressed in a thin line. “Someone has to make the rational decisions.”

“Now you’re accusing me of being irrational again? What on earth gives you the right—”

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