A few hours later, I woke in a haze. A dull pain bloomed in my lower back, probably because I was wedged on the tiny sofa.

My feet, which were freezing, hung over the side and the rest of me was covered with the white, puffy duvet from the bedroom. It was still light out, and now I had no idea if it was four in the morning, eight at night, or three in the afternoon.

Confused, I blinked rapidly and heard Colin in the galley kitchen adjacent to the living room, pouring a cup of what smelled like coffee.
I tried to be discreet as I pulled the comforter over my head.

Please let him be wearing a shirt. Please. Please.

I couldn't handle the muscles in his stomach or the V near his hips or the muscular pecs this early, not without blushing or giggling or possibly pouncing.

My forehead throbbed, and I recalled the embarrassing set of events leading up to me smacking my face into the wall. I rubbed the lump. If only I could stay under this blanket for the day. Or an eternity.

"Good morning, pumpkin."

I flipped the duvet down to my shoulders. He was standing over me with the most adorable smile and bed-rumpled black hair. I grimaced from his sheer cuteness and the memory of molesting him.

To my relief, he was fully clothed, but still in those sexy grey track pants. I pushed the vision of his alluring abs and the feeling of his erection out of my mind.

"It's morning?"

"Eight a.m."

I stretched my arms overhead, making sure the comforter covered my chest.
"Well, good morning, I guess. Where did this duvet come from?"

"When I came out here an hour ago, you looked rather uncomfortable and cold. You'd wrapped yourself in your shawl, but I took pity on you and covered you with the comforter."

I nodded, sitting up and wrapping the blanket around my shoulders. "I see. Thank you. Well, about last night—"

Colin shook his head. "These things happen. And I know I'm irresistible." He grinned and held up his mug. "Coffee?"

I scowled. "Yes, please. I'm going to need something other than your self-assured declarations to wake me up."

With the comforter still around my shoulders, I ignored his laughter and padded down the hall.

I dug around in the closet until I found a long, belted sweater in a hideous maroon shade. I looked for some longer pants, leggings, anything, but apparently the lady of the house only wore hotpants while in Iceland.
I tied the sweater belt tight around my waist. It wasn't pretty in combination with the shorts, but it was better than exposing myself further to Colin.

I met him in the kitchen.

"How do you take your coffee?"

"Black. Like my mood." My voice was curt. I was trying not to look at his powerful legs in those pants. And the white T-shirt he wore was tight enough to reveal a muscular torso.

Oh, God. His chest. I must have been stroking it when I was dreaming of the suede. Had I actually licked his chest? A jolt of shame shot through me.
I cleared my throat and studied a rack of cast iron pots intently.

"Samantha?" He was holding a plain white mug in my direction and I thanked him.
"For a woman who sells a lifestyle of sunshine, you sure have a bit of a dark side."

I took the mug from his hands. "I guess. One of my official brand slogans is, 'Smiling never goes out of style.'"

He nodded thoughtfully. "Have you always been this, uh, dark and light?"

I swallowed a mouthful of scalding coffee. "Probably, yes."

"I'm intrigued."

I heaved a sigh. "Well, don't be. I'm not complicated or interesting. I try hard to promote my brand. That's all. Underneath I'm a garden-variety workaholic."

"I don't believe that for a minute." He extended his finger and pointed in the direction of my forehead, where I'd hit my head in the dark.

"You've got quite the shiner there."

I arranged my hair over the side of my face. "Okay. Enough about me. I'm fine. What we need to talk about is how we're going to get out of here. Have you gotten any news, emails, anything, about the volcano? Who knew that Iceland even had volcanoes? Have you heard anything from the airline? I'd check my computer, but I don't want to run the battery down. My charge cord is in my luggage, which is probably still somewhere in California."

"I've heard nothing about the volcano. There's no TV here, and I don't speak Icelandic anyway. And yes, Iceland is riddled with volcanoes. There are actually one hundred thirty of them here."

For some reason, the way he tossed off that factoid made me smile. I sipped my coffee and watched him tap on his phone. This morning he had even more stubble, and it gave him a distinctly foxlike look.

A sexy, foxlike look.

I gulped my coffee.

Hopefully I could be on the next flight out and away from this man.
A red siren light flashed in my mind. Whoop. Whoop. Whoop. Danger ahead! Too smart, too handsome, and too cocky!

At this point, my fear of flying was about equal to the desire to not succumb to my attraction to Colin. Nothing good could come of this.

"Ah. Here we go." He looked up at me, his blue eyes framed by long, sooty lashes. A zing of awareness went through me and I involuntarily grinned. Dammit.

I stopped smiling and put on my best businesslike voice. "Yes? What's the news?"

"Officials fear that micropartcles from volcanic ash trickling from an Iceland volcano could bring down passenger planes."

I made a strangled noise in the back of my throat.

He looked up, alarmed. "What?"

"With news like that, I might end up staying in Iceland for the rest of my life."

"Oh, God, Samantha. I forgot. I'm so sorry." Lines emerged between his dark eyebrows. "Thousands of flights have been cancelled to and from the UK, Norway, Sweden, Finland, and Denmark as affected countries close airspace in response to the volcanic activity. Experts say they'll wait until late Monday or early Tuesday to decide whether to open the airspace."

"Tuesday. If I can get to London on Tuesday, then I can still make the dinner," I murmured. Even if I had to double up on my anti-anxiety pills, I'd be on the next available flight out of this silly place.

"Dinner?" Colin said.

"Us?" I croaked. "Tonight?"

He grinned. "Uh, I meant, what dinner are you going to in London?"

I was a dolt. "Oh. It's an awards dinner. I'm getting an award."

"Really? Congratulations! What kind?"

"A lifetime achievement award. For fashion. I had wanted to arrive days before so I could settle in and calm my nerves after flying. No chance of that now, though. The dinner's after a fashion show of ten seasons of my collections."

"Wow. Impressive." He turned to pour himself another cup of coffee from the sleek, steel brew station. I wasn't sure if he was actually impressed or mocking me. "I'm stranded with a famous designer."

I let his remark slide. "And you? When do you need to be in London?"

"Ah, about four hours ago. My meeting is well underway."

"I'm sorry."

He shrugged. "My brother Caleb is more than capable. I'm confident our firm will close the deal. I'm trying to be Zen about it."

"That's wonderful you're able to rely on your brother like that. I tried putting my sister in charge of marketing at my business, and it was a disaster." I didn't mention that my ex-husband had been an even bigger disaster for my company.

"Caleb is the most reliable man I know." Colin looked more serious than I'd seen him look.

I squinted. "Caleb? Caleb King? Why does that name sound familiar? How would I know him? Does he come to Palm Beach ever for charity events?"

He leaned against the counter and stretched out an arm, so his palm lay flat on the granite. "You might have heard about him on the news in Florida a while back."

I tilted my head. "News?"

"He was in Brazil for a business and went missing. Nine months later, he was found."

I gasped and pointed at Colin. "Yes. That's it. I recall seeing him on Nightline. Wait. Emma's his wife. The woman I spoke with before we took off. I remember seeing photos of her in the newspaper."

He nodded soberly. I could tell he was still troubled by an obviously traumatic event for his family.

"Remarkable. They went through so much, with his amnesia. I was very captivated by their story. I can't imagine what Emma went through and what you and your family had to endure. I'm so sorry, and I'm glad it all worked out." I set my coffee on the counter and rubbed the thumb and forefinger of my right hand together. It was something I always did when I was nervous.

Colin ran a hand through his hair. "His amnesia—the whole situation, really—was tough on everyone. It was the kind of event that causes a man to reevaluate his whole life. It's been two years since he's been back, and I can honestly say I'm a changed man because of it."

I wondered what Colin had changed from and what he was now. It seemed too personal, too heavy, to discuss over morning coffee.

We stood in silence for a few moments. I took a deep breath. A pang of floating anxiety hit me, and I steadied myself by holding on to the stove handle. I reminded myself to breathe. To get out of my own head, I had to distract my mind. Usually I did that with work, but here, I didn't have work to do.

I had to busy myself with something.

Shopping.

As much as I wanted to hole up in the apartment for the day, I needed a change of clothes. Here, there were no assistants, and I wasn't going to be a baby and ask Colin to do everything for me.

A few hours away from Colin might not be a bad idea. There was a thick tension in the air—or, at least, I detected one. I wasn't sure if it was because we'd talked about his family ordeal or if the tension stemmed from something else. I wasn't great at reading people any longer, apparently.

I spotted Colin eyeing my bare legs. My skin prickled. Maybe the tension was of an entirely different kind. It made me edgy.

"I think I'll get ready and walk down to the shopping district. I'll see if I can find food for us while I'm out." I set my mug on the counter.

"May I come with?" 

Colin looked so hopeful that I couldn't say no.

____