With her hand still clutched in mine, the gorgeous woman next to me stares out the airport windows to watch the snow drift down softly as we wait for our luggage. She’s not my girlfriend. She’s definitely not my wife. This intriguing woman is a complete stranger to me, but I absolutely do not want to let go of her hand. The minute she stepped foot on that plane, I felt it. An immediate attraction. A connection. And not simply because she’s gorgeous.
