Page 33 of The Christmas Wife

I stand there and watch that snickerdoodle of a man bend to pick my coat.

He straightens and his shoulders once more block my line of sight. I take in how his waist tapers down to meet his powerful thighs. My mouth waters. My fingers itch. I want to reach out and trace the cut abs outlined by his shirt.

His lips kick up. Heat flushes my cheeks. Of course he is well aware of the effect of his nearness on me.

He tilts his head, "Have you decided?"

I peer up into his face, rake my gaze across his strong features, that mean upper lip, his broad jaw. My nipples pucker and my toes curl. What would happen if I stayed? And if I leave? Will I always wonder how it would have been to spend a few days with him?

"Amelie?" His voice is impatient.

"I.... I...am not sure," I stutter.

He peruses my features. "Turn around," he orders.

I do. I sense him close the distance between us, then he drops the coat over my shoulders. I shove my hands through the sleeves, and he pivots me to face him. I stare at that broad chest that’s going to haunt my dreams for a long time.Hell.

He places his knuckles under my chin, applies pressure so I have to tilt my head up. I meet his gaze.

"You can leave now," his voice is harsh, "or you can come into the warmth."

"Come into the parlor, said the spider to the fly," I mumble.

"Oh, you’re no fly, Buttercup." He grunts, "More of an annoying, pesky mosquito."

"And you’re what…an octopus?"

"I can certainly wrap my arms and legs around you in a similar fashion." He chuckles. "To keep you warm, of course."

"Of course." I draw in a breath, "Fine, I’ll stay."

"Good."

"On one condition."

"You don’t make the rules, babe." His voice is soft, almost playful. His eyes take on that flinty look I’m coming to anticipate, and hate. My toes curl.

"But I’ll let you have your say," he adds, "this time."

"You…you’ll sleep on the couch," I state.

"No."

"Fine, I’ll sleep on the couch." I tip up my chin.

"You think I’d let you do that?"

"Why not?" I scowl.

"A deal is a deal." His grin widens, "Six days—same house,same bed.You’ll cook and clean and do everything I ask of you. Every day you complete, I deposit one million pounds in your account."

I gulp. OMG, I’m going to do this. I am. I can’t turn this down. I tried. I went so far as trying to run away, but who am I kidding?

I can never turn down a challenge; and I admit, a tiny part of me is curious about whether I can actually resist him. I have to, of course. Otherwise, I’ll lose any measure of self-confidence I have in myself.

I pull back; his hands drop away. I tug the coat closed, then turn and walk around him toward the house. I reach the porch steps, then turn around, "Coming?"

He scowls. My insides knot. Guess he’s not happy I took the lead. Too bad. I don’t care that he’s pissed-off. That seems to be his perpetual state of mind. But why does he have to be so hot when he glowers at me? I reach the door, then turn again. "Would you bring in my remaining luggage, while you’re at it?" I suppress a giggle as I walk into the cabin.

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