If ever a man met that description, it would be Cale. ‘Just so you know, I don’t give two shits about this project right now.’ My wilting heart...leapt at the tone in his voice. It said far more than his words ever could. I placed my hand on his chest, surprised and not at finding his heart racing as fast as my own. ‘ We can do this. After dinner we’ll figure out therest.’ I was trying to be encouraging. OK. It was more for me than for him. I’ll admit it. Cale lowered his lips to my ear. His. Otherwise he felt suspended in space, hanging in milk.His feet ended at his boot tops and no trace of snow or shadow or outline or slope or mountainside existed in his vision. There was no horizon and no sky. It was a perfect "whiteout," that rare condition of light in which snow and sky are perfectly blended together and there is no trace of shadow or highlight. There is absolutely no visual sense of shape, slope, or horizon. It is, literally, like being inside a milk bowl.This was serious.. More

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