Carefully she stretched her cramped muscles, settling in for a longer wait. This will be a piece of cake, she told herself sternly. All she had to do was ignore the hard floor for a few minutes, and she would be home safe.
Just a few minutes.
Involuntarily, she shivered, goose bumps running up and down her body. A breeze from the window licked her skin with a frigid tongue. She struggled to convince herself it wasn’t that cold, but her body refused to be convinced, pointing out that two damp towels were not helping the situation.
Determined to take her mind off the numerous sources of discomfort, she concentrated on Nathan’s breathing. How much time had passed since her frantic dive under the bed? Was he asleep yet? His breathing was even and regular now, but was it the breathing of a man asleep?
Frustrated, she admitted she couldn’t tell. Not used to sharing a bed with a man, she had no clue on how to interpret the breath patterns of this particular specimen. Was this fast-asleep breathing or just-about-to-fall-asleep breathing, or even can’t-fall-asleep breathing?
The mattress had not moved since he’d lain down. Maybe he snored, she thought, heart lifting a fraction. That would give her a sure indication that he was out.
After forcing herself to count two hundred of his breaths, Erin decided he’d fallen asleep and he did not snore. She refused to even contemplate the idea that he was still awake.
One inch at a time, she pushed herself out from beneath the bed, taking care to bring the towels with her. From her prone position she saw the narrow frame of light from the hall, but nevertheless the door was firmly shut.
Darn! She had forgotten that door.
Knowing this house as she did, she knew that unless Nathan Chase was an exceptionally heavy sleeper she didn’t stand a chance of opening that squeaky door without waking him.
Turning her head to look up at the sleeping man, she could barely make out his head, turned away on the pillow, and the shape of his body under the covers. He was fast asleep. What a relief.
The cold breeze reminded her of the open window. Of course! That escape route was the reason she’d ended up in this mess in the first place. From the roof she would be able to climb back in through her own window.
She rose slowly, freezing when she realized that the light from the full moon on the sleeping man’s face had now been replaced by her shadow. He moved restlessly, turning his face towards her. Erin stood transfixed. She dared not move, fearing he would awaken should the moonlight again touch his face.
Finally, murmuring incomprehensibly, he rolled over on his stomach, turning a broad back to her. Erin relaxed slightly. She would make it after all. In one swift movement she was at the window. She clambered out onto the roof, then paused for a moment to listen for sounds from inside. There were none and she managed to close the window without a single creak.
November in Maine was not the time or place to be prancing around on rooftops wearing a towel, but she’d ignore that for the moment. She was free. With a victorious smile she started towards her own window.
She didn’t get very far. The towel had caught in the closed window. She tugged on it, then was suddenly released as the window opened. With a small shriek, Erin fell on her side and started to slide down the slanting roof, feet first.
A hand shot out and grabbed her arm.
Erin rested her forehead on the cold roof and groaned. This couldn’t be happening. This kind of thing simply did not happen to her. She was lying face down, the towel bunched up under her armpits. The man holding on to her arm was definitely getting a good view of her rear from the waist down.
It was almost preferable to looking him in the face.
Almost.
Erin grabbed on to the window ledge and pulled herself up on her knees, yanking her wrist from his grasp. She quickly tugged the towel back into position and, bracing herself, looked at the man standing inside, his arms crossed on his chest as he stared perplexed at her.
Nathan Chase, hot-shot news photographer, heartless brother of her beloved sister-in-law.
She’d never met him before, but Sally proudly displayed a picture of her brother in their living room, an enlarged but somewhat blurry snapshot of the two of them whitewater rafting. It was too dark for her to see if he’d changed much in the ten years since that picture was taken. All she could see was a silhouette of his torso and sleep-tousled hair hanging down over the faint glint of his eyes.
She took a deep breath of the cool night air before speaking.
“Um. Hi. Hello. Good evening.” She extended her hand. “You must be Nathan. I’m Erin, Thomas’s sister; you’ve probably heard of me?”
Nathan’s suspicious look at her outstretched hand was hilarious and the absurdity of the situation finally got the better of her. Biting her lip, she tried to get a hold of herself, but failed. She collapsed in a fit of giggles.
“Maybe…maybe I could come in?” she managed between fits of mirth, realizing that her giggles were not helping her regain her dignity. But she couldn’t stop laughing.
He must think she was quite insane.
Nathan wondered for a moment if his sleep-deprived mind was playing tricks on him. He had fallen asleep the moment he’d hit the bed, but noises at the window managed to rouse him what seemed like only minutes later. He had expected to find a tree branch or even a bird pecking at the window, not a dusty temptress clad in goose-bumps, moonshine and a nervous grin.
And a towel. There was a towel too.
Cold wind brushed over his bare skin, reminding him that the woman must be freezing. He moved away from the window, holding out a hand to help her in. Her small hand was icy in his palm as she climbed through the window, still giggling as she landed on her feet in front of him. Almost on reflex, he kept her cold hand between his and gently rubbed heat into it.
“You’re Thomas’s sister, Erin?” he repeated at last, finding his voice hoarse from sleep and exhaustion. He frowned as he struggled to remember what little he knew about Thomas’s family and the sister he had known would be staying here. “The…librarian?”
He stared at her with amazement as he continued to rub heat into her hand. Admittedly, it had been quite a while since his last visit to a library, but this woman did not fit his image of a librarian, neither in looks nor behavior.
“My horn-rimmed glasses are in my room, and the bun came loose in the shower,” she said solemnly before pulling her hands from his grasp. “I apologize for my unprofessional appearance.”
OK, obviously she had come across librarian stereotypes before.
She backed towards the door and, to his regret, out of the moonlight that painted such a delicious pattern of colors over her skin. “Sally has told me so much about her big brother,” she chattered. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”
“I definitely should have paid more attention when she talked about you,” he murmured. “Just what were you doing out there, Miss Librarian? I know my brother-in-law is an innovative man around the house, but even he would draw the line at installing a hot tub up on the roof.”
“Well…” she gestured vaguely “…I thought you were a burglar. It’s a long story. Perhaps we’d better catch up on it later. I’m sure you need a good night’s sleep after your journey.” She began to move towards the door, but Nathan was finally fully awake and wasn’t about to let her off the hook so easily. Not now that he was just beginning to enjoy himself.
“Not so fast.” He stopped her with a hand on her shoulder, turning her around. Her shoulders were icy too, and he promised himself he would let her go in a minute so she could get warm. This was just too much fun to miss.
Telling himself he was simply making up for keeping her out of her bed, he kept his hand