Free A Shifter Christmas by C.A. Tibbitts Page A

feet, so she had no idea
if the size eleven boots would be too big, too small, or just
right.
    She turned at a loud clunk and walked out to
the living room. The naked man was making himself at home. He'd put
a large log in the fireplace and had it lit. "You realize it's
going to be a hundred degrees in here in less than an hour," she
grumbled. She would have to open a window or two to keep from
sweltering.
    "I was trying to help." He took the offered
clothes from her hands, careful not to touch her. He tossed the
shirt aside and pulled on the pants.
    It would actually be a shame if he covered up
those delectable abs. She frowned, angry at herself for even having
the thought. "I have lavender tea, mint tea, or I can make coffee.
Pick your poison."
    "Mint. Thank you, Katherine." He gave her a
small grin as he remained in front of the fire, rubbing his hands
together.
    "My given name, if you must know, is Kaitlyn.
Nobody has called me that for fifty years, and neither will you."
She turned and walked into the kitchen. After setting a kettle of
water on the stove to boil, she heard him at the entrance to the
kitchen. She remained with her back to him. "For a lion shifter,
you are not quiet on your feet."
    "Do you have a set of cards?"
    Kate rolled her eyes, turning to face him.
"Please do not tell me you plan on showing me card tricks over
tea."
    "I was rather hoping we could play strip
poker." Jaxon's smile lit up his face, his blue eyes sparkling.
    "If you are trying to be charming, you are
not succeeding." She turned away and pulled the box of tea from the
cabinet. Okay, he is a little charming, especially with that
accent, but I will never admit it aloud.
    After she poured the tea, she placed both
cups on the round wooden table that sat inside the bay-window niche
at the far end of the kitchen. It was already getting too warm, so
she opened one of the windows, enjoying the cold breeze. The snow
was coming down hard now, accumulating quickly. Jaxson sat down
across from her and she took a moment to study his handsome face.
He had tucked his blonde hair behind his ears. He had faint laugh
lines at the corners of his eyes, and a hint of lines where he
probably furrowed his brow often. His blue eyes were dark, framed
with the longest dark blonde lashes she'd ever seen. And his lips,
they were full and silently promised they could and would do wicked
things. She remained staring at his face instead of looking down at
his bare chest. "How did you wind up in Colorado?"
    He dunked his tea bag a few times before
laying it on the delicate pink flowered saucer. "I wanted to
explore the states. The world really, before I choose a new place
to live."
    "Where is your next stop?" She had always
been a sucker for an accent, so she assumed that was the reason she
kept asking questions, so she could hear his voice.
    "Australia, next week."
    Her eyes casually swept down his smooth
muscled chest to look at his hands. She hoped she wasn't too
obvious.
    "Would you like to come?"
    Her eyes snapped up to his face. "Excuse
me?"
    "To Australia?" he added, that teasing
twinkle back in his eyes.
    "Why would you want a stranger to travel with
you?" Kate frowned, looking down to dunk her own teabag before
picking up the spoon to add sugar from the small sugar bowl.
    "We don't have to be strangers by next week,
Kaitlyn."
    Oh, but her full name sounded so good with
his accent that she could not bring herself to scold him for using
it. "What are you offering?" Did those words just come out of my
mouth? Her eyes remained downcast as she repeatedly stirred her
tea. His hand slid over her free hand and she felt a spark of
desire of which she hadn't felt in twenty years.
    "The snow is coming down, and the night is
young. We should curl up by the fire and do whatever comes to mind.
Talk, eat…touch."
    I should slap him for suggesting such things,
then kick his perfect ass out of my home and off my property. So
why did I turn my hand over and let his fingertips