Free Christmas Kiss (A Holiday Romance) (Kisses and Carriages) by L.L. Muir Page B

been drinking and forgot about them, she was going straight to the police as soon as she got out of there. No way would he get custody of a child he’d nearly frozen to death not once, but twice!
    She heard stomping on the stairs. But he only took a few steps, then stopped. Then started again. Her anger bubbled hotter every time he stopped. Was he messing with them?
    The whole point of coming to Scotland was to get a better grasp on her life. To take control again, to find herself again. But since she’d stepped off the train in Burnshire, she’d lost control completely.
    She’d lost the tour she’d been so excited about.
    She’d lost control of her senses and set out in a snowstorm, in an unsafe car that she’d also lost control of.
    She’d been used as a pawn in the game of some insane old man so the loveliest man she’d ever met in her life thought the smart thing to do would be to lock her up.
    Now the only thing she could control was a freaking chamber pot.
    Aaand...
    She couldn’t even pretend this bedroom was her personal safe space because the danger of freezing to death made it anything but safe!
    If the lovely idiot could somehow make his way to the top of the stairs and come open her door, she was going to bloody take control if it killed her.
    Bree’s heart jumped when he finally reached the hall. It sounded like he was sliding along the wall, which gave her hope because if he was that drunk, he’d be a lot easier to overpower.
    He slammed against the door. She jumped back. It was so hard to picture him that wasted, she suddenly wondered if their visitor wasn’t McKinnon at all!
    Heavy breathing pushed through and around the edge of the door.
    She tried not to freak out; after all, she had a little girl to worry about too. She hurried over to the chair, scooped up the child, wrapped the blanket tighter and hurried to the bed.
    “We’re going to play a trick on Laird McKinnon,” she whispered. “You’re going to hide under the bed. Okay? Don’t be scared. He’s going to think it’s funny.”
    She waited for the girl to nod before she laid her under the edge of the bed and gently pushed her back as far as she could. She didn’t have to remind her to be quiet. Then she went back to the door and forced herself to move close, to listen again.
    “Brianna,” a man whispered. “Brianna. Open the door.”
    If it was McKinnon, he would know it was locked from the outside.
    “Brianna. Please.”
    She heard something metal hit the hall floor. Then a stomp. A key flew under the door and hit her foot. She picked it up, then listened again. She wasn’t going to open the door to anyone but McKinnon, even if he’d given her a key.
    “Brianna.” The voice was a bit stronger this time. “Cherub! Open the door.”
    Only McKinnon would call the child Cherub!
    Bree inserted the key and turned the lock. When she lifted the latch, the door pushed open with McKinnon’s weight behind it. She managed to stay on her feet, then caught him as he fell forward. Her strength was no match for someone twice her size and she went down. He fell on top of her with a grunt.
    “McKinnon. Are you drunk?” She couldn’t smell alchohol.
    “F..f...frozen,” he stammered. “Why...why...why is my d...daughter beneath th..the bed?”
    Bree looked up to find the little girl grinning at them with the orange firelight lighting her face like the sun. She hadn’t moved, she was still wrapped up like a quilted burrito.
    “Because I didn’t think the man staggering against the door would be you.” Bree pushed on his right shoulder and he stiffly rolled off her, with a lot of help. When she was on her feet she realized just how stiff he was. “Were you trying to find out just what it felt like to be a popsicle?”
    She moved to the door and shut it, to keep the heat in the room, and while her back was turned, she casually dropped the key into her bra, then she tossed plenty of wood on the fire.
    “N...not by choice. I was