A Christmas Spirit Read Online Free Page A

situation.
    “Aye. Just there.” He pointed toward the raftered ceiling. “In the tower.” He shook his head. “I dunna recall much—only the face of my murderer.” He pushed away from the table and crossed his arms over his muscular chest. Intense green eyes pinned her to her chair. “Enough of my life’s tragic ending. I’ve suffered it once, and that was quite enough.” A smile lifted one side of his mouth. “I want to know more about you.”
    Paige studied Gabriel Munro. Sexy didn’t accurately describe him. There was something ultimately sensual about his mannerisms, the way he stared so thoroughly at her, and she couldn’t imagine what sort of impact he’d made when alive. His sexual allure all but strangled her now . She wasn’t used to that. Not at all.
    “Well?”
    Paige pushed her plate away and shrugged. “There really isn’t much to tell, I guess,” she said. “My parents died when I was four, and my grandmother raised me after that. She died right after my second year in college.” An image of Granny Corine came to mind, and tears stung her eyes. God, she missed her. “I live in a one-bedroom apartment just outside of Fredericksburg, Virginia. I commute into D.C. six days a week and work as a museum curator and researcher. I work a lot of hours.”
    Gabriel was silent for a moment; then he cocked his head. “You work at the Smithsonian?”
    Paige smiled and lifted a brow. “How on earth does a ghost from the twelfth century know about the Smithsonian?”
    Nonchalantly, he shrugged. “Discovery Channel. I watch Craigmire’s telly oft enough. ’Tis a place I would love to visit, given another set o’ circumstances.”
    Paige gave a soft laugh. “I see.” She stood, gathered her plate, and took it to the sink.
    “You’re alone then?”
    Paige jumped at Gabriel’s closeness. He stood just behind her, so close she could have sworn her skin tingled as his words washed over her. She couldn’t help it. She shivered. An attraction reaction to a ghost? Oh, that’s just precious, MacDonald . . .
    “I cannot fathom it,” Gabriel continued. “You’ve no family left? Friends, even? No man?”
    Paige turned, leaned against the counter, and met his gaze. He didn’t exactly glow, but he did in fact have a sort of aura about him. She could see him just as perfectly as if she were looking at a live man. Strange, how just a couple of hours ago, she’d been running for her life. “When you say it like that it sounds awful.”
    “A woman like you shouldna be alone.”
    Paige swallowed past the lump in her throat. “Um, thanks. I think.” What it actually meant, she hadn’t a clue.
    Just then, the wind whipped fiercely through the cracks of the stone wall, making a howling, moaning noise that left goose bumps on Paige’s arms. She rubbed them. “What about you?” she asked. “Do you have anyone? Now, I mean?”
    A somber expression crossed Gabriel’s handsome face. “I have Craigmire and his wife, the castle owners. They’re away on holiday, visiting their children in London. A fine pair, those two.”
    “No one else?”
    “Nay,” he said.
    She liked the way his r ’s rolled and the heavy brogue of the Highlands flew off his tongue. Seductive . She thought he could talk to her all night long and she’d be perfectly content. Maybe she could find a book for him to read aloud.
    She’d keep all that to herself.
    “Why are you here?” he asked.
    “Well,” she said, pushing off the counter and walking to the large bay window facing the night. “I was determined not to spend one more Christmas alone. Not at the museum, not at the apartment, not walking around the park.” She softly laughed and stared at her own reflection in the glass. The candlelight made the image— her image—surreal. “So I booked a self-driving tour of the Highlands, did not factor in a snowstorm, and here I am.”
    “Weren’t you going to spend the Yuletide alone in Inverness?” he said, seemingly