In the meantime let's head somewhere warm and without snow, deep in the pages of Fatal Intent.
Somewhere in the Borneo jungle:
Aidan moved vines back, exposing his face. They only had to look in his direction.
He was so close he could have reached out and touched her. She was delicate, out of place here in the midst of this wilderness. Her skin, even beneath the sweat and exertion-stained flush, was fair. She wasn't built to be here, she was too slight to survive, too weak, too...
She glanced up. A frown immediately seared her face.
He bit back a smile. She should have screamed. She hadn't. All tiny limbs and fragile beauty, and yet she attacked first.
He let his gaze rove over the group, refusing to be corralled by her attack.
One of the men looked panicked, the others seriously stressed. He shifted his spear to his other hand and waited, taking the warrior advantage of time and observation. The silent often learned much about the enemy.
"Put that down." She gestured to his spear.
His fingers loosened for a millisecond before gripping the spear tighter. Was she out of her mind? Green, innocent, and totally forest-illiterate, but she was feisty.
Feisty? She was seething, hot, absolutely pissed--about what, he wasn't sure. Her anger didn't make much sense. Nothing about this afternoon made much sense.
Hope you enjoyed that little diversion from the real world.
Now I'm off to dig a path in a snowbank or two.
And you - any snowbanks standing in your way?