The white glow of the moon reflecting off newly fal en snow highlighted the isolation of the log home set at the foot of the mountain. It was perfect. Remote. Comfortable. And it was theirs for the weekend. No work. No pets. Nothing to distract them from each other. The uncharacteristic shyness that had been plaguing her the entire four-hour trip came back in spades as Marc switched off the car’s engine. Which was absolutely ridiculous. They’d planned this weekend for a month. Nothing was going to happen here that either of them hadn’t eagerly anticipated, but now that it was time for the planning to give birth to fantasy, she was shy to the point of blushing. She, the woman who never blushed, never embarrassed. Never lost control. Becky pretended an interest in the scenery as the driver’s side door opened. Marc’s gaze slid over her like a touch, poking at her insecurities, asking silent questions she didn’t want to answer. Anticipation and nerves fluttered in her stomach in a queasy combination.
