A Hamilton Family Christmas - Donna Kauffman Page 0,21

a really good job. If the ladder hadn’t fallen earlier—”

“I wouldn’t be wanting a pain reliever and a stiff shot of something strong,” he said. “But it did, so I’d really like—”

“I’d really like some answers.”

Why was it he was fighting a smile, when he should be frustrated as all hell? “You seem to have forgotten which one of us is the Hamilton here.”

“I haven’t forgotten anything. You’re interfering with the job I was hired to do. And, inadvertently or not, you’re trashing the joint. A joint I’m responsible for maintaining. It’s bad enough the power is out and God knows what is spoiling or…or going bad because of it. Not to mention the heat going off, and things freezing outside, like pipes, or—or, whatever.”

He couldn’t help it, he did smile. She was babbling again. Imperfect human that she was. One he was finding himself unavoidably and increasingly attracted to. But his grin was certainly not the reaction she’d been aiming for, which she proved by thumping him on the upper arm.

“Hey!” he said, rubbing at the spot, more to make a point than because she’d hurt him in any way. “No hitting.”

“Fine. If you call no hitting, then I call no being obtuse. You said you were here to surprise Lionel with a visit. I’m thinking the surprise part was that he wasn’t supposed to know about your visit at all.”

“So, are you saying you’re going to contact him and tell him I’m here?”

“I’m saying now would be a good time to tell me what’s going on so I can make an educated decision, instead of being backed into a corner and forced to make a knee-jerk one.”

His lips quirked. “Why do I get the feeling you’re thinking the key word in that little dissertation was jerk?”

She sighed and dipped her chin briefly, before looking back at him. Though she had no problem standing up to him, he guessed confrontation wasn’t typically her style. If either of them was frustrated as hell, at the moment, it was her. But then there was also the way she jiggled the flashlight in her hand. Like someone who was nervous. Only she was staring him right in the eye. Which begged the question…exactly what was fueling those nerves?

Which was something he had no business even thinking about. He had to scramble and scramble fast here. Everything was on the line, and she was standing right in the way of him getting what he came here for. Now was definitely not the time to be wondering what she’d do if he leaned in a bit closer. Then closer still. He was lifting a hand before he realized he’d put thought to deed. He managed to check the action before he touched her face, and instead toyed with a few of the curls framing her face.

“Don’t—don’t think you can distract me,” she said. Quite unsteadily, he noticed.

His body really noticed.

“You’re not answering my questions,” she added, but she didn’t jerk her head away, or back up so his hands would no longer be in her hair.

“I’m not trying to be frustrating,” he said, thinking hair as curly as hers shouldn’t feel so soft and glossy. He let another coil wrap naturally around his finger. “In fact, you have no idea how badly I’d like to reduce the frustration for both of us. At least for a few hours.”

The jiggling stopped. But her gaze stayed locked on his, and he could see her throat work. Which brought his attention to that slender column, and made him wonder how the tender skin beneath her ear would taste.

“I read you wrong earlier, when we initially met, about your intent. I—I’m not reading you wrong now, am I?”

He just shook his head.

She drew in a shaky breath, and let it out again. “Right. Well, I know you’re probably used to this,” she said, her voice a bit tighter, and a bit lower.

“This?” he queried, letting his gaze drift from her neck to her mouth. It really was quite sinful looking. His own watered at the thought of sampling it.

“Using seduction, getting your way,” she said. “You’re…a very attractive man. I’m sure you’re aware of that.”

He immediately looked into her eyes, and noticed how carefully still she was holding herself. “Meaning what, exactly?”

“I don’t play these kinds of games,” she said, her voice more than a bit shaky now. “I’m a pretty direct person.”

“Games?”

“I’m not naïve. You want to distract me from whatever it is you’re up to, and