Let It Snow... Read Online Free

and felt like the perfect man should. Powerful but lean, muscular but elegant, somehow. He moved almost gracefully, not a lumbering beast, more a prowling predator.
    She’d definitely felt stalked as he’d moved close enough to...sample her chocolate.
    But it wasn’t just his body that had sucked her brain cells dry and let her kiss a complete stranger. There was also his face. Oh, Lord, that face. He was perfect, been sculpted from marble... His skin was a bit dark, as if he had just come from someplace sunny, or was of Mediterranean—Italian?—descent. The fineness of his brow was accentuated by the widow’s peak that pierced it. His cheekbones were high and autocratic, his cheeks lean, his nose straight and proud, that jaw strong, with a delicious-looking cleft at the bottom. His thick hair was jet-black, short, but wavy and incredibly finger-tempting. And his eyes—those almost intrusive, assessing, deep-set and heavily lashed eyes—were dark brown...like her favorite semisweet confections.
    All that and a chocaholic. The man was simply divine.
    Ding-ding-ding, hello in there? He wants to hurt your brother. Remember?
    She would never let him get close to Freddy. Claire had promised their mother on her deathbed that she would look out for her baby brother. Allowing him to be...de-testicled wouldn’t just be neglecting her responsibilities, it would be unforgivable.
    “ Now should I offer my apologies?” the sexy stranger asked, his dark eyes gleaming in the soft glow of the overhead lights. Both amusement and awareness shone in those depths, also revealed by the slight uptilting of his soft, sensuous mouth.
    I kissed that mouth? I was held by this man?
    Impossible. Those kinds of wild, romantic moments happened to other women. To helpless, small, delicate, beautiful women. Not to blunt, responsible, down-to-earth Amazons like Claire Hoffman.
    “Only if you’re sincere,” she mumbled, swallowing.
    Considering her words were the volume of a mouse’s squeak, she couldn’t say there was much chance she’d get an apology.
    “Let me rephrase that. Do I have anything to apologize for?”
    Did he? He hadn’t exactly forced her. Yeah, he’d started the kiss, but he hadn’t grabbed her, pushed her up against the refrigerator and ripped her clothes off.
    Oh, wow.
    Stop, stop, stop!
    Angry at her traitorous body, which demanded he do anything but apologize, she dodged the question altogether. “Look, I’m not letting you touch Freddy. Kissing me isn’t going to work any more than threatening me would have.”
    He flinched, as if slapped, and for the first time since he’d entered the kitchen, he looked angry. “Threatening you? I would never threaten a woman.”
    How noble. Hence the name? No nuts, no worries? “So you save your threats for young, inexperienced fools like my brother?”
    “Your brother?” That fine brow went up and he tilted his handsome head in confusion. “Mr. Hoffman?”
    “Yes. Freddy’s my brother. And if you think I’m going to let you hurt him, you’ve got another think coming.”
    “Shouldn’t that be another thought coming?”
    She growled. “What are you, the freaking grammar police?”
    “I’m not from this area, and I am not sure I understand all your colloquialisms.”
    “Where do you come from?” she asked, though she cursed herself for doing so. She had no interest in the man, and this conversation was beyond confusing.
    “The land of Barcelona,” he declared with a decisive nod.
    “Uh...Spain? You sure don’t sound Spanish.”
    He waved a hand. “I am well traveled...but, um, but also poor. A student making my way around the world.”
    Huh. That was surprising. The guy oozed confidence and self-reliance, looking more like a ship’s captain or a...a sheik—that was it, some oil-rich gazillionaire. Yes, his clothes were casual, and didn’t appear terribly expensive, but he wore them like somebody who had money.
    He had the leanest waist and hips, most