Page 66 of Baby It's Cold Outside

“You asked me how I maintained my droolalicious physique.” His brow crinkled in suppressed humor. “Your word, not mine.”

“I’m sure a Harvard grad would never use such a phrase.”

He looked as if he were fighting to maintain a serious expression.

Gaze steady, he went on. “You offered me a night I would never forget.”

Heat speared her gut and moved lower. Maybe she was better off not knowing what she’d said. But now that she’d asked Wes to share, he appeared to be really warming up to the task.

“And then there was the mention of kitchen utensils,” he said.

She coughed hard and sat up straighter, her mind racing. “Kitchen utensils?” Her voice sounded embarrassingly husky. “What kind of kitchen utensils?”

“Pastry brushes,” he said. “For the chocolate sauce.”

She’d never been that creative.

His mouth twitched, as if biting back a smile. “Cheesecloth in lieu of handcuffs.”

Her heart slid into third gear.

“And my personal favorite,” he said, the amused flicker in his eyes growing stronger. ?

?The spatula.”

The words sent her pulse into overdrive. When the rest of his expression didn’t budge, she tipped her head at him, a glimmer of suspicion taking root. The pause was awkward for Evie, but apparently not for him. And who would have guessed Wes Campbell had a devilish side?

Bastard.

Wes went on in a brisk, businesslike tone, as if reciting the latest financial figures of the Dow Jones Industrial Average. “But my favorite part of the event was when you promised to let me keep your Hello Kitty undies as a souvenir.”

The underwear she’d been given as a gag gift. But she would never, ever demean the ridiculous panties, or any other article of her clothing, to the level of a “souvenir.”

Would she?

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Are you teasing me?”

The faint smile was breathtakingly sensual, and frustratingly enigmatic.

“About the Hello Kitty part?” he said, and then his voice shifted lower, making her uncomfortably aware of him as a man. “Or the promise that I could keep them?”

Screw it. She didn’t want to know anymore. She wasn’t sure which was worse, her vodka-induced words or Wes’s delighted delivery.

Evie tamped down the surprising attraction and struggled to regain control of the situation. Definitely time for a change in topic. “How long have I been asleep?”

“Since I plopped you on the bench,” he said. “About five hours.”

Her voice came out as a squeak. “What?”

“Five hours,” he repeated matter-of-factly. “Long enough for the second winter storm they’d predicted to close in faster than they’d thought.”

Oh, crap.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she said, frantically bending to gather her bags. “I should try to get out of here while I can.”

“Won’t do any good,” he said. “All flights have been canceled and the roads are a mess.”

Evie pushed the hair out of her face and eyed the crowd. For the first time she noticed the chaos went beyond the usual holiday madness. Mixed in with the festive, seasonal music and decorations, the airline passengers looked frazzled, many of them camped around the terminal, settling in for a long wait.

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