A Maine Christmas...or Two Read Free Page A

with hadn’t been a fortune, but it was a lot to her, money she just didn’t have to replace. It was the funds for the expenses of the Center for December, and all the money for the Christmas festivities that had been raised throughout the year. And the sum was way more than she could afford, or hope to get in donations.
    “Fat chance the police will have any luck,” Emily muttered to herself as she pulled up to the gate that blocked the road to the peninsula. Paul had disappeared as though he had never existed. The police had investigated, but had very little information. Paul probably wasn’t even his real name, and he had done this several times before without being caught—if the similar incidents were done by the same man.
    Swallowing hard, she stared at the massive metal gate in front of her, wondering how she was going to actually get through it, when the decorative doors started to swing open soundlessly.
    It’s not locked or guarded. It’s motion operated.
    Okay. That surprised her. In fact, it took her a moment to even give the truck some gas to enter through the open gate. When she finally came out of her perplexed trance, she gunned the engine, making the back end of the truck fishtail on her bald tires. She straightened her vehicle up and kept going. The snow was coming down heavier, a sloppy, wet snow with high winds that signaled an incoming nor’easter.
    What did I expect? A guarded fortress?
    But yeah, actually, she had assumed there would be some sort of barrier between the ultra-rich Sinclair family and the rest of the world. Even though the peninsula wasn’t that large, the Sinclairs owned the entire cape, and the road was private. To be allowed to enter just by driving up to the gate was a surprise. When she was a child, the projecting mass of land had sat empty, and she had ignored the No Trespassing signs more times than she could remember to sit out on one of the shorelines, her very favorite spot on the headland.
    My favorite place is in the exact same spot where Grady Sinclair had built his house.
    Emily couldn’t see well, but she squinted into the swirling snow and pushed her glasses back up onto the bridge of her nose. Passing several private driveways, she kept on going, knowing Grady’s home was the very last one.
    The road ended at his house, and Emily forged ahead, parking her truck in the circular driveway and turning off the engine.
    I must be insane!
    Before she had time to think about what she was doing and leave, Emily grabbed her purse and slammed the door of the truck closed. Glad she was dressed in a sweater and jeans for the weather, she just wished she was also wearing a pair of boots, her sneakers slipping and sliding in the fresh, wet snow.
    The house was massive, and she gaped at the heavy oak doors in front of her, wanting to run away as fast as her slippery shoes would take her.
    “What kind of single guy owns a house this humungous?” she whispered in awe.
    Answering herself, she said, “A man who has enough money to donate for the Youth Center.”
    With that thought in mind, she strode determinedly forward and pressed the doorbell harder than she needed to, causing her feet to slide out from under her and land ungracefully in a heap on Grady Sinclair’s doorstep.
    That was a fabulous and graceful entrance, Emily. Impress him with your professionalism.
    Disgusted with herself, she scrambled for purchase on the icy stone porch, trying to hastily get to her feet before he answered the door, but she slid again and landed flat on her rear end, flinching as her tailbone hit the unyielding surface. “Damn!”
    Abruptly, the door swung open, and Emily Sinclair got her first look at the beast from an undignified position on her frozen ass.
    Her glasses were wet and foggy, but he looked like no beast she had ever seen. He did, however, look pretty fierce, dark, and dangerous. Without saying a word, Grady Sinclair stuck his hand out as though he completely expected her to