It was less than twenty-four hours until Christmas, and Hanna wanted nothing more than to give Santa a firm talking to.

Or maybe she should scold herself. She should know better than to casually make wishes like if only I could be trapped alone with Brad Ford for a while.

Because it had happened. They were trapped, all alone in a remote cabin that was warm and getting warmer.

The scent of wood smoke wasn’t just coming from the fireplace but drifting from the gentle giant who stood at the table organizing the food supplies they had between them. He’d loaded the woodpile to overflowing, then carried two enormous stock pots to the surface of the stove, both of them packed solid with snow.

After removing his outdoor gear, shaking the fresh snow off and hanging it to dry, he’d helped her disassemble her makeshift ladder.

A rumbling laugh escaped him as he eyed the distance to the roof. “How did Blackie get up there in the first place?” he asked with amusement.

“He must be one of Santa’s and knows how to fly,” Hanna said somewhat grumpily, because discovering the kitten wasn’t going to cooperate had been a challenge she hadn’t expected to face on top of everything else.

And now Brad was trying hard not to look at her, which in a way made it nice for her because she’d settled in the chair by the fire again, with a clear view as he worked at the table.

He’d pushed up his sleeves, and his strong forearms were marked with faint lines of soot. Once again the words rose to her lips to suggest he wash up.

But that would mean he’d be taking off his clothes, and Hanna didn’t think she was strong enough to simply turn her back and pretend he wasn’t there. To pretend she didn’t want to watch as he stripped everything from his strong body.

It would take more strength than she had to deny that what she wanted was to strip down with him and take this relationship to the logical next step.

She tucked her legs in tighter, wrapped her arms around her knees and stared into the fire, letting her racing thoughts circle again and again until peace slid into place. It seemed impossible to focus on the gold and red flames and keep the tension twisting inside. And as the warmth stroked her arms and Brad settled into the chair beside her, Hanna realized her biggest fears weren’t about him.

It was still the past shaking her foundation. It was still worries that, if she took another step, he might turn around and strip her heart away. Because there was no lying to herself about this—it wasn’t just physical need between them.

Her heart was involved.

Hanna turned and deliberately examined him, thinking of everything that made Brad who he was. His ready smile, the way he moved his big body so intentionally, turning himself into a protective wall at a moment’s notice.

Strong hands that he’d used to cradle Crissy carefully, the same hands that had sent his brother reeling and had also brought her pleasure—

The things she knew about him, she admired. He wasn’t the boy who’d slept with her then broken her heart. He wasn’t her family who’d deserted her when they should’ve been supportive.

Brad was solid, not just in body but inside as well, and whatever fate had brought them to this point, it was time for her to let go of the past and embrace her future.

The lid on one of the pots rumbled as the water came to a boil, and Hanna rose to her feet, ignoring the question in his gaze as she pulled together the things she needed. She gathered a cloth she’d found in one of the totes and a washbasin that she balanced on the table beside the wood-burning stove. She placed a couple of scoops of cold water in first before adding ladles from the stove until the tub was the perfect temperature.

Hanna took a deep breath then turned to face him. “Take off your shirt,” she ordered.

Brad went still. Motionless as he looked her over from top to bottom. “Hanna?”

Announcing her intentions was intimidating beyond belief, and yet he deserved to hear it. She pulled in her bravery and stepped between his knees, reaching to undo the buttons of his shirt. “You smell like a fire pit,” she told him bluntly.

Amusement flashed in his eyes. “This isn’t an uncommon thing with me.”

“I’ve noticed. I don’t mind, most of the time, but I don’t want our bed sheets coated with soot.”

He caught her wrists in his hands, preventing her from pushing the shirt off his shoulders. “Hanna.”

This time her name came out somewhere between a promise and a plea.

She pushed against him, and he released her immediately, wiggling his shoulders to help her strip away the first layer. Reaching down, their hands bumped together as he helped pull the T-shirt from his body.

Naked from the waist up, he adjusted forward in his chair, opening his thighs wider to give her room to step closer as she brought the washcloth to him. She wiped his face clean, passing the cloth over his head and down his neck. Hanna turned back to dip the cloth in the water, wrung it out, then touched it to him again. She washed his shoulders, his arms, over his broad pectorals and down his ribs. His breathing picked up, chest moving under her touch.

His erection pressed to the front of his jeans, thick and ready.

She dipped the cloth again, thankful for the momentary breaks between touching him because she was on fire with need. Moving toward him instead of walking behind him, she reached around to wash his back, her gaze frozen on his face as he watched her intently. His bright blue eyes were filled with need.

Hanna gave the cloth another rinse before washing his arms, his forearms, stroking the soft fabric between his fingers.

The water had cooled, so she added another scoop of hot, and bracing herself to turn back, she motioned him to his feet.

He rose, towering over her, and yet she felt as if they were perfectly even, equals in desire and need and want.

Hanna reached for his button and undid his pants.

It was one of those moments where Brad worried if he made a single sound he would somehow disrupt the magic. That Hanna’s trembling hands as she opened his jeans and helped push them off his hips would vanish, and this would all turn out to be some kind of feverish, lust-filled dream.

Only as he helped strip his pants away and she gasped softly, turning back to grab her washcloth, he knew the magic was strong enough to last.

She’d decided, and he was so very thankful.

The warm cloth stroked his thighs. Hanna’s eyes widened as she touched him and washed his legs while she worked around the territory still covered by his briefs. It was cute to see her pointedly ignore his cock even as the rigid length blatantly attempted to escape its confines.

Cute at least until she paused in front of him, slowly lifting her eyes to meet his. “Take them off,” she ordered, as bold as any drill sergeant.

No hiding now. His cock bounced back to near vertical, so hard from anticipation he ached. When she soaked the cloth again and wrapped the fabric around his length, rubbing carefully, Brad swore softly.

If anything she just stroked harder.

“You’d better be done soon,” he warned, the words rumbling out barely comprehendible.

Hanna laughed, the sound lightness and joy, and she stepped away, her gaze far bolder than he expected.

When she lifted her hands to the bottom of her shirt and pulled her sweater over her head, his heart beat with the pom-pom of a drum.

Sweet innocence stripped in front of him.

She folded her sweater carefully then placed it on a chair before she shimmied out of her pants. When she was down to nothing but a plain white bra and underwear, feet clad in grey woolen socks she paused, hands hanging by her sides.

“Dear God, Hanna, you’re killing me.”

She turned on the spot, slowly reaching behind her and removing her bra before facing him again. Breasts high, nipples tight. Cheeks flushed as she tucked her thumbs into the edge of her panties and pushed them down her legs, and then she was naked except for the socks.

His brain was three seconds from going off-line for good, but before he had a total mental meltdown, a moment of panic rushed in.

He lifted a finger in the air. “Don’t move,” he ordered.

Brad rushed across the room to where his bag was, desperately digging into the side pocket before breathing a sigh of relief as he scooped up a handful of condoms.

Soft, naked skin pressed against his side as Hanna leaned over him, stroking her fingers down his forearm to take one of the packages from him. “I’m glad you have extras.”

Brad turned to her, shock diluting his brain power for a moment. “You have condoms?”

She hesitated. “I started carrying them a few days ago,” she confessed.

He scooped her up and carried her back in front of the fire, tossing the extra supplies to one side before reheating the water and squeezing the washcloth clean.

Then he proceeded to enjoy himself thoroughly.

He washed her from head to toe, teasing as he pressed the warm cloth against her breasts, rubbing until her nipples were bright red and her chest shook with how hard she breathed.

He soaked the cloth again, pressing his hands against her thighs until she opened wider to let him stroke her pussy. Soft motions along each side of her labia followed, circling up and over her clit. Folding the cloth around his fingers so he could rub with precision until her hips rocked upward helplessly.

The heat from the fire poured forward, wrapping around them. Firelight brushed over her skin and highlighted her every motion. Brad put aside the cloth and picked her up, carried her to the bed, and laid her on the quilt-covered mattress.

Brad rested beside her, skimming a hand over her soft skin. “I want everything, all at the same time. I want to touch your breasts.” He stroked his palm over her as he spoke. “I want to lick them until you’re squirming. I want to nibble my way down between your legs then feast until you’re calling my name. I need to be inside you.”

Her fingers wrapped around his cock, and he sucked for air. “I need all that too. I want you, Brad.”

No stopping now. He rolled, her slight body hot like a coal under him. She opened her legs wider and he settled closer. Braced on his elbows so he wouldn’t crush her, he stared into her eyes.

“You’ve got me,” he confessed. “All of me.”

She’d slipped into a happy dream, but one that wasn’t out of reach. It was right there, happening to her. Her skin tingled where he’d touched her, which was pretty much everywhere. The clean scent of soap on his skin brought back memories of touching him intimately, of feeling his willingness to let her take control.

That moment was over though, as he brought their lips together and kissed—

Oh God, what a kiss. Hot and intense and shooting from need to urgency as if a thermometer had been pressed to the side of the stove.

As he kissed his way down her neck, Hanna closed her eyes and tried to calm her breathing, but it was no use. He seemed determined to devastate her. Pressing her breasts together so he could lick from one to the other more rapidly than she could control her breath. Nibbling on the tips he’d already made sensitive from the washcloth until she was ready to grab him by the ears and force him to make a move.

Then he was gone, settling between her legs, ready and willing to torment her all over in a brand-new way. He licked and touched and stroked. Teasing her clit, slipping his fingers inside her. A slow thrust, and another, but when he curled his fingers she just about hit the ceiling. She clutched the quilt as his touch sent an electric shock through her.

“What are you doing?” she demanded, elated and panicked all at the same time.

He just laughed and did it again, adding his tongue against her clit. There was no escape from the pleasure that roared up, exploding out as if she were one of those firecrackers that began with a single pop then burst in a dozen different directions, each one spiraling out of control with a screaming whistle.

She was still seeing stars as a condom wrapper crinkled. Then he was between her legs, the thick head of his cock against her. Easing in, pulling back.

She caught hold of his shoulders and stared into his face. His lashes fluttered a few times as he worked himself deeper, but it felt good. Oh, it felt so good, and when he finally stopped, fully buried in her, Hanna sighed, content.

“Finally.”

His lips curled, and a soft laugh escaped as he held himself motionless. Present, so-completely present. She couldn’t ignore that he was inside her, hard and broad and perfect.

Then he moved, and it only got better. “I’m going to lose my mind,” he warned her in a whisper. “So damn good.”

Hanna bent her knees farther, lifting them. He slipped even deeper. “More,” she begged.

A groan escaped him as if she’d demanded the impossible, but then he sped up. Pressing deeper, thrusting harder. His shoulders and arm muscles bulging as she ran her fingers over them.

Touching was a connection. Joined—even more intimate.

He slid a hand over her belly and his fingers made contact with her clit, demanding a response. Pleasure spiraled higher as he pressed his mouth to hers, small pulses of his hips moving the head of his cock against the most sensitive part of her. His fingers shifted rapidly.

“Brad.” It took forever for her to say it because it took forever for her body to stop rocking, everything in her core coiling tight.

He gasped, lifting up and pressing deep. Brad buried himself over and over in a series of hard, frantic thrusts, pulling her orgasm out for an eternity until he froze, his cock jerking inside her, which set off another round of pleasure.

They were tangled up, legs and arms, lips moving together for a final desperate kiss before gasping for air.

He rolled her on top. Hanna’s limbs were limp noodles as she pressed her ear to his chest to listen to the rapid thumping.

“That was amazing,” she told him much later when she finally had the energy to speak.

“That was everything I’ve ever wanted,” Brad said, before twirling her world upside down. He rolled them carefully until they lay side by side with him staring into her face as if he was trying to memorize her. “Hanna, sugar. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted. There’s something I need to ask—”

Out of the rafters over the bed, a small furry creature fell directly on Brad’s head.

Smothering her amusement, Hanna sat, carefully scooping up the kitten that nuzzled against her, meowing piteously.

Brad laughed, rolling away and striding from the bed. She wasn’t sure what all he did, but by the time she joined him at the table, placing Blackie carefully at the bowl of milk Brad had found, he didn’t say anything more regarding whatever he’d been about to ask.

And she didn’t remind him, but she thought she knew what he’d been about to ask, and the idea was both perfect, and perfectly terrifying.

That look in his eyes had been love. She was sure of it.

Throughout the day as he stoked the fire and they watched the storm rage against the windows, Hanna kept waiting for him to finish his question. Part of her kept hoping he wouldn’t because she wasn’t sure yet what her answer would be.

They played games and made meals and cuddled together until it became another session of lovemaking, and Hanna was just about one hundred percent sure what she would say when he did ask…

Which made the fact that he didn’t all the more frustrating.