A Christmas Temptation. Karen Booth
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“Why are you walking around the house with a lead weight in your hand?”
“If you were an intruder, I was planning to knock you out with it.”
“I guess I should have called first, huh?”
“That would’ve been nice.”
He dropped to his knee and tugged off his gloves, setting them on the stair tread. He reached for her foot. He was so close now, his cheeks bright pink from the cold, but the rest of his face had its normal tawny tone, the one that looked so perfect with the dark scruff on his jaw. She had an irrational desire to touch it.
“Can you take off your slipper so I can look at it?” Impatient Jake didn’t wait for her; he simply removed it himself.
“You still haven’t told me what you’re—Ow!” She recoiled from the pain.
He held his hands up in surrender. “Sorry. I just... I think we need to get some ice on this and get it elevated. There’s a chance you broke your foot.” He stood, tugging off his hat and rolling his broad shoulders out of his jacket. To her horror, he tossed them onto her grandmother’s upholstered settee.
“Jake. That’s velvet and there’s snow on your jacket. The water will leave a mark on the fabric.” She knew she was being a pain in the butt, but she couldn’t help it. He was being thorough, determined Jake—the guy who never gives up on what he wants, no matter what it takes. She had to remind him that he was on her turf. If there was an upper hand to be had here, it was hers.
“We need to get your foot elevated. Can I carry you somewhere so you can lie down?”
The idea of lying down near him had her thinking all sorts of crazy thoughts—she nearly answered that her bedroom was right upstairs. Nearly. She needed to retrain her brain to stop thinking about him that way. There had been a time when she was skilled at keeping herself in the friend zone, but she was out of practice. “I can walk.” She had no idea if that was true. Her foot was throbbing like it had its own heartbeat.
“I’m sure you can. But I’m not going to let you hurt yourself when I can stop it.”
“So I’ll sell you my two billion dollars in Manhattan real estate?” She might as well just put it out there. His true intentions would go far in reminding her that however gorgeous and sexy he was, Jake was a threat to the future she wanted for herself.
“No. So you’ll listen to me when I say that I need to hide out here for a few hours until the storm passes.” Placing his knee on the tread immediately below her, he reached out for her. “Come on. Put your arm around my shoulders.”
Sophie was prepared to protest some more, but this close, Jake’s heady scent filled her nose, and that switched her brain into a far too accommodating creature. She’d long ago developed a serious weakness for his heavenly smell of soap and sandalwood, and the years apart had not managed to dull her reaction to it. Sophie raised her arm and he came in closer, making the fragrance even more intense. He wrapped his hand around her waist and scooped up her legs with his other arm. She had no choice but to curl her other hand around his neck and turn her face into his chest as he straightened and picked her up from the stairs.
“Where to?” he asked.
Sophie was too mesmerized by the sensory delights of being this close to Jake to think of an immediate answer. He was wearing the softest black cashmere sweater, which was a delicious contrast to the way his facial hair scratched at her temple. His body radiated so much warmth, she just wanted to stay like this. Everything about him seemed designed to draw her in. “Across the hall. The arched doorway.”
Jake carried her into the sitting room. “I’m going to set you down on the couch.” His warmth quickly evaporated as he let go, a very real reminder of what a disappointment it was when he decided to step away. He grabbed a pillow for behind her back and another to go under her foot. “Now ice?”
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