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message 1: by Ica (new)

Ica Iova | 31 comments Let It Snow
Check out this contemporary romance


message 2: by Ica (new)

Ica Iova | 31 comments (¯`v´¯)
.`•.¸.•´
¸.•´.•´¨) ¸.•¨)
(¸.•´(¸.•´ (¸.•¨¯`* http://amzn.to/1IT8LlR A hot romance to warm up your winter *¨*.¸¸.✶*¨`*


message 3: by Ica (new)

Ica Iova | 31 comments An SUV pulled to a stop beside her. A door swung open, and a broad masculine form emerged.
Right then, Catherine knew. It was him—the guy who had pumped her gas.
Had he followed her?
Fear was what she should’ve felt. But instead she felt a certain amount of relief.
The snow showed no sign of letting up. She was stuck on a dark, deserted road… alone. At night. In the middle of nowhere with no reception on her cell phone. And her knight in shining armor was the Cadillac Man—Erin… something.
How had he found her?
Okay, okay. This was no time to fret. Her plan to get to San Francisco and rent a hotel for the night just took a major detour. Panic started to set in. Her hands griped the wheel tight.
Her life had flashed before her eyes in those few moments and her legs still trembled from the car spinning like a crazed toy.
And now the arrogant know-it-all hottie from the gas station had come to her rescue. The last thing she needed to hear was I told you so.

Her gaze followed him as he walked up to the side of her car. He knocked on the window and snow swirled around him. Reluctant, she clicked the button to lower it.
“You okay? You’re bleeding,” he said, leaning down to eye level.
No, she didn’t feel okay. But his simmering blue eyes forced her to lie. She pushed back her hair and nodded. “I’m okay. Just a nose bleed. It’s Erin, right?”
“Erik… Bennett.”
“Right. It only… no one has cleaned the roads yet… I hit a patch of ice and the rest is history.” Annoyed at the flustered quaver in her voice, she fumbled for words. “Do you think the snowplows will come soon? They can probably pull me back onto the road?”
He huffed a half smile. “I hate to rain on your parade, Cat-Catherine, but you’re in California,” he said, and another arrogant smirk sprang across his face. “There aren’t any snowplows in Mill Valley.” He stepped back and opened her door. “Let’s get you out of there.”


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