One more tiny moment with her. That’s all he’d take.
He pressed his nose into her hair and drew in a sweet honey scent. She was so soft and warm and delicate. Before he could stop himself, he pressed a kiss into the back of her head, into her loose, silky hair. As if the kiss were a key, it seemed to unlock a door he’d kept tightly closed up until this point—one that was holding back the full force of his longing. And now, desire poured out—pure, raw desire unlike anything he’d known before.
He couldn’t pull away from her, so instead, he kissed her head again, this time harder. His arms wrapped around her more securely, and he had the sudden need to shift her around and find her lips so that he could kiss her thoroughly. What he wouldn’t give to taste all her sweetness, to explore her, to discover if she was feeling the same longing that he was.
She stirred.
Was she sensing the change in him?
He’d done so well the past hours in keeping everything bolted away. And now the kisses to her head had undone him.
He closed his eyes and clamped his jaw, battling against his needs. He couldn’t have her. Not when he had nothing to offer. If he kept going, let his desires take control, he’d turn into a selfish womanizer—the kind of man she’d hinted that he was. He couldn’t—wouldn’t—do that.
Holding himself immobile, he loosened his hold and sat back, trying to put some distance between them. But as he attempted to extricate himself, she turned just slightly, released a sleepy sound, and somehow her lips brushed against his neck in a sensitive spot right below his jaw.
He stilled.
From the way she remained relaxed against him, he could tell that she was mostly asleep, that she hadn’t meant to brush his neck.
Even so, his skin was on fire, and the flames were spreading rapidly through his body.
“What time is it?” Her whisper grazed his skin.
This woman was going to be the end of him. “It’s nearing dawn.” He started to lower his mouth back to her head. Just one more kiss of her hair. That’s all he’d take.
Before he could press in, she began to scramble away from him. “Dawn? Poor Mrs. Keller. She needs a respite.”
Somehow his self-control was gone. It had dissipated, completely evaporated, like mist under a hot sun. His hands had a mind of their own and couldn’t let go of her.
But as she pushed against him harder, the movement seemed to jar him out of his desire-laden haze. He let his arms fall away, freeing her to crawl from him and then push up until she was standing.
Underneath her coat, she was wearing the simple skirt and blouse from the previous day. And her hair was still in a lovely chignon, albeit wobbly with loose strands. For a moment, she held a hand against her forehead, as though trying to gain her bearing.
She started toward Mrs. Keller but then stopped and glanced back at him. “I don’t know how we would have survived the night without you. Thank you, Philip. You’ve been a godsend.”
He nodded mutely, unable to come up with a witty response, not with his desire blazing so hot and out of control. Yesterday, while taking pictures of her, he’d grown overheated and had to step out onto the porch for a few moments to cool himself down. But the heat then couldn’t begin to compare to what he was feeling now.
He most definitely needed to go outside and douse himself with snow. Without allowing himself to take her in again, he stood, his stiff body protesting, and he made his way into the kitchen to his cold, damp outer garments. He donned them and headed outside.
The first thing he noticed as he stepped into the early light of morning was the silence. The incessant blowing had stopped, and the world around him was shrouded in a blanket of quiet white.
The second thing he realized was that the air wasn’t as frigid. Yes, the temperature was still freezing, but the bitterness was gone.
As he made his way to the barn, he didn’t need to hold on to the rope, and he didn’t have to fight against the drifting snow. Instead, his steps made a soft swooshing that was almost pleasant. As with the other times, he had to shovel the snow away from the barn door to get inside. But without the storm, he had the way cleared in no time.
He tended to the livestock, chopped another area of the barn for fuel, and by the time he trudged back to the house, dawn had turned into daylight, with hints of sunshine peeking from behind the clouds.
Although a part of him was relieved that the worst weather had passed, another part of him wasn’t ready for the time with Felicity to come to an end. Not yet. Not so soon.
From the size of the drifts, he guessed they wouldn’t be safe attempting to travel until the snow melted a little. That meant he still had more time to enjoy being with her without worry of danger or without the pressure of having to leave.
As he neared the kitchen door, he paused and took in the view. With the mountains and foothills covered in snow, his breath caught at the beauty of the whitewashed world and the evergreens glistening with the ice. From the fence post draped with snow to the drifted wagon path, everything contained a pristine clarity that he wanted to capture with his camera.
Maybe today, after all the chores were done, he’d gather his camera and traipse around and get some photographs of the aftermath of the storm. But only if he could convince Felicity to join him in exploring the winter wonderland. There was no sense in denying the burning need to spend every moment possible with her while he still could.
*
He and Felicity alternated taking care of Mr. Keller while Mrs. Keller slept. And when he wasn’t tending to the older man, he was hauling water and scrounging for dry wood. Thankfully, with the snow having stopped, he was able to locate windfall not too far from the house that was still dry enough to burn.
With the kitchen stove fueled again, Felicity made soup and biscuits. Philip ate it with a cup of coffee, never more grateful for the warm meal to settle inside and chase away the last vestiges of chill from his bones.
Finally by mid-afternoon, when Mrs. Keller had awoken and refreshed herself, Philip convinced Felicity to join him outside. The sun stayed mostly behind the clouds, but the warmth of it lingered in the air regardless.
They strapped on snowshoes, and Philip led the way to several spots that he’d wanted to photograph. With each stop, Felicity helped him set up his camera and then held the containers and lens cover while he made a lasting image of the landscape—images he would hold dearer than any of the other places he’d photographed during his travels.
During their time together, it was almost as if they’d silently agreed not to talk about the future or his leaving. Instead, she asked him astute questions about the process of taking pictures as well as the development of them. And he regaled her with tales of some of his worst moments as a photographer and his most embarrassing mistakes.
Upon her inquiry, he told her that he’d taken up the hobby of an amateur photographer during his years in boarding school because he’d been restless. He wanted to divulge that he hadn’t been allowed to participate in as many of the activities as the normal students and had needed to pass the time. But he held back.
After spending so much time with her already and not having revealed his identity, he wasn’t sure what purpose her knowing now would serve. It wasn’t as if he was lying to her. He’d merely omitted information.
As they hiked, she wanted to hear more about his travels, both those within the United States as well as in other parts of the world. After each new place that he described, she sighed dramatically, a dreamy, faraway look filling her eyes.