Snowbound Heart Read Free Page A

come from the bakery. Clare pressed it gingerly, then drew back her hand. Taking a deep breath, she closed the cabinet door, then turned toward the gleam of the refrigerator. Grasping the handle, she pulled it open.
    The appliance light came on instantly, throwing its cool white glare into the room, illuminating shelves holding milk, cheese, juice, bacon, meat, fruit — anything a hungry person might crave.
    The implication of the food and the glowing light inside the refrigerator held her stunned. In that instant a sound came from the direction of the laundry room. She heard the opening of the door, the scrape of the cocoa mat, and then, as she turned in that direction, a man, tall and broad in heavy clothing crusted with snow, swung into view.
    At the sight of her he stopped, a scowl drawing thick blond brows together. “What the devil … ?” he exclaimed.
    Clare’s grip on the handle of the refrigerator tightened until her knuckles gleamed white. “I … I’m sorry,” she said hurriedly. “I thought the house was empty.”
    “Did you now?” the man asked. His voice was soft, but the bite of sarcasm in it was so stinging that she flinched.
    “Yes. I didn’t mean to trespass, but the door was open, and I had nowhere else to go.”
    “You could not have left the same way you arrived? I am assuming, naturally, that you didn’t walk all the way up here.”
    Clare shook her head, her gray eyes anxious in her effort to make him understand. “No, I couldn’t. I got caught in the snowstorm. My car skidded, and I went off the road.”
    “Careless of you,” he drawled, and began to tug off his fur-lined gloves.
    “Careless?” Clare repeated slowly, the anger stirring inside her at his complete lack of concern for her confusion. “It was unlucky, yes, even unwise, but I don’t think it was careless.”
    “And I can’t quite think it was entirely unlucky, since it landed you on my doorstep.”
    “You sound as if you think I did it on purpose! Believe me, stranding myself in such an isolated place with a strange man in the midst of a blizzard is the last thing I would think of doing.” Before the words had left her lips, he laughed in real amusement, a sound that rang in her ears with an odd and disturbing familiarity.
    “A good try, but not good enough.” As he spoke, he reached up to pull off the heavy knit cap that covered his hair and toss it with his gloves to the kitchen counter. “If you really have wrecked your car to get in here, I won’t throw you out on your ear in this weather, as much as I might like to. You may as well be honest and admit this is exactly the way you planned it.”
    “Honest … ?” Clare began, a frown drawing her brows together as she stared at him in wrath and perplexity. “I don’t know what you…”
    As he turned full-face to her, she stopped. The firelight from across the room caught in his hair, sliding across its fine sculptured waves with the soft sheen of pure gold. It touched the gold tips of his lashes, the only feminine thing in the strong mold of his features, and glinted with pinpoints of fire in the vivid blue of his eyes. The beguiling smile known to millions of women curved his mouth. That it was touched with mockery did not make it any less effective.
    “Logan Longcross,” Clare whispered on an indrawn breath. Understanding flooded over her in a wave. Logan Longcross, superstar, a movie idol, who could demand and get better than three million dollars for every picture he made, a major box-office attraction famous for his slow smile, for the sensitivity he brought to the roles he played, and for his intense dislike of the notoriety thrust upon him, with its corresponding lack of privacy.
    “Yeah,” he agreed, the single word clipped and sarcastic.
    “I see,” she said. “You think I am here because of a schoolgirlish case of star worship? Let me assure you I am no groupie desperate to be near you!”
    He frowned judiciously. “Not bad,” he said,