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

take it. She did, grasping his hand as he pulled her to her feet like she was as light as a feather. Trying to straighten up quickly to regain some modicum of dignity, she gawked up at him. She was tall for a woman, but he dwarfed her, towering over her menacingly. He was dressed informally in a tan thermal shirt that stretched across rippling muscles and a massive chest. He was sporting a pair of jeans that looked worn, and he filled them out in a way she’d never seen a man wear a pair of jeans before.
    Holy crap! Grady Sinclair was hot. Scorching hot. His dark hair was mussed, and he had a just-rolled-out-of-bed look that made her want to drag him back to a bedroom. Any bedroom. He looked like he hadn’t shaved today, and the dark, masculine stubble on his jaw just added to the testosterone waves she swore she could almost feel pulsating from his magnificent body and entering hers, making her squirm just a little at her body’s reaction to him.
    She drew in a deep breath as his gray-eyed stare seemed to assess her, and finally came to rest on her face. “Hi,” she said weakly, unable to form any intelligent words right at the moment. Her brain was mush and her cheeks flushed pink with mortification. This just wasn’t the businesslike, graceful entrance she had hoped for, and her lustful reaction to Grady Sinclair had her uncharacteristically flustered.
    I need to get it together. I’m acting like an idiot. I need this donation.
    He grabbed a fistful of her jacket and tugged her inside, closing the door behind her. Plucking the glasses from her face, he used his shirt to clean them before he handed them back to her. “You don’t look like one of Evan’s usual women,” he said gruffly. “Bedroom is upstairs.” He pointed his thumb toward the spiral staircase on the far side of the enormous front room.
    Emily stared at him blankly for a moment, and then slanted her gaze toward the living room to try to clear her head. She certainly couldn’t seem to think straight when she was looking directly at him.
    Bedroom? What the hell is he talking about? Evan’s women?
    “I think you have me mistaken for someone else. I don’t know you, and I’m not acquainted with Evan. I came to ask a favor.” Who does he think I am?
    “And you’re offering your favors for a favor, right?” he asked grimly, his graveled baritone almost disapproving.
    Her head jerked back to his face. “What? No. What kind of favor?” she replied suspiciously.
    “My brother Evan told me I needed to get laid, which generally is followed by a woman arriving here at my house. I usually just send the women away with a check. But I’ve decided I’ll take you,” he said huskily.
    Emily gulped. “Someone sends you women…as in prostitutes?” Good God, the last thing Grady Sinclair needed was a hooker. She couldn’t think of one single woman who would actually turn him down. “Do I look like a whore?” she asked irritably, suddenly offended by the fact that he’d thought she was for sale. But she felt a shiver of need slide down her spine and land right between her thighs at the thought that he actually wanted her, and what he might do to her if she was actually a woman for hire. She wasn’t beautiful and she was curvy, her ample figure a little more than most men found attractive.
    He reached out and unzipped her jacket, divesting her of the garment and hanging it on a hook by the door. Turning back to her, he said slowly, “Nope. You don’t. That’s why I want to fuck you.”
    Emily gasped, his blatant words and heated appraisal making her flush. “Well, I don’t know Evan and I don’t want to do that. ” Liar. Liar. She so did want to do that , but she wasn’t about to admit it when he’d just insulted her. Besides, she didn’t do casual sex. “I’m Emily Ashworth and I’m the director of the Youth Center of Amesport. I wanted to talk to you about a possible donation.”
    She shuddered as his intense, molten gaze swept over