Page 17 of Undoing His Innocent Enemy (Hot Winter Escapes)

Like now.

Because he would be forced to endure another night withherin his home.

Luckily the woman—whose name he had been careful not to ask—had stayed out of his way this morning.Good, he was glad she had listened for once.

That he had woken up after last night’s meal with a strident erection had only frustrated him more.

It wasn’t the first time he’d had erotic dreams. He was a grown man after all. But it was the first time those dreams had had a face, and a sultry spicy scent, and striking emerald eyes—the gold shards in the irises spellbound with arousal—that had bored into his soul. And made every one of his pulse points pound.

Stop thinking about her. Damn it.

At last, theavantowas ready. He stalked back to the cabin on the edge of the lake to prepare for his swim. After feeding more logs onto the fire that heated the cabin’s sauna, he stripped down to his shorts and stepped inside. The dry heat relaxed tired muscles, while the sweat cleansed his pores and helped to clear his head of the many inconvenient thoughts... Of her. After ten minutes, he crossed the jetty and took the steps into the icy lake.

The water—its temperature hovering just above freezing—felt like sharp needles digging into his skin, but as he swam across the hole, adrenaline surged, bursting into his brain and dislodging the frustration.

The endorphins built to a wave as he climbed out and headed across the snowy dock in his shorts and a pair of sliders to protect his bare feet from the ice. But as he reached the sauna cabin, the cold rushing over his skin and making every nerve ending tingle with life and vitality, he heard a staggered breath. His head jerked up, and he spotted the woman who had been haunting his thoughts standing under the trees, wrapped up against the cold, her gaze roaming over his virtually naked body.

He swore abruptly, then clasped his arms around his torso. The frigid cold numbed his skin, but did nothing for the heat that blasted back into his gut.

Had she been watching him, swimming? And why did that only make the hunger worse?

Dislodging his gaze with an effort, before he froze to death, he stalked towards the sauna and ducked inside. Even though the last damn thing he needed was more heat.

She hadn’t listened. Why was he even surprised?

As he doused the hot coals with lake water, the blast of steam hit his skin and the adrenaline rush from the cold-water immersion morphed into something a great deal more dangerous.

The arousal he’d been intending to dampen flared back to life. As he settled onto the sauna’s pine bench, thoughts of her invaded his senses. Those full lips pressed to his chest, skating over his belly, surrounding his... The yearning to be touched by another human being, to be caressed byher, became so intense, the ache built until it became unbearable.

He swore viciously—unable to focus now with her so close, and unable to find another temporary release because it would only make him more ashamed of his weakness where she was concerned.

He stepped out of the steam-filled hut and got dressed in the cooler air of the outer cabin. When he stepped outside, she was no longer there. No longer watching.

The ripple of disappointment disturbed him, but not as much as the feel of her gaze rioting over his skin that still lingered, making the ache flare anew.

As he trudged through the forest, he found her footprints in the snow. And followed them back to the house.

But when he saw her through the kitchen’s picture window, he detoured towards his workshop.

She had invaded his privacy, but worse, she had turned the solitude that he had enjoyed for so long—and relied on to make him whole—into something problematic, something not enough.

‘Don’t you get lonely?’

The question she’d asked last night pushed against his consciousness, opening a hollow space in his gut. He’d never been lonely. He embraced the quiet, had always loved being self-sufficient and self-contained, had never had any need for companionship or conversation—not since his grandfather had died.

But he couldn’t shake the thought that there was something fundamental missing from his life now.

And that was her fault.

He tried to control the frustration and anger as he headed to his workshop. But as he selected the wood for his next project, it refused to fade. He picked up the different pieces that he had foraged for in the forest during the long summer days. But as he assessed the grain, tested for faults and knots that might ruin the design he had sketched, he imagined touching her skin. And wondered what it would feel like under his fingers. Those toned muscles, the soft contours of her body, her high full breasts, the taut nipples visible through the clinging fabric of her thermal undershirt...

The urge to make her gasp as she had in the forest, or shudder as she had when their fingers had brushed the night before, became desperate and demanding.

He dumped the chunk of silver pine he had been assessing back into the basket.

Swearing viciously, he stalked out of his workshop. Avoiding her wasn’t going to work, because she had refused to avoid him. Which meant they would both have to face the consequences now. Once and for all.

‘Why did you spy on me?’

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