Free Christmas Male by Jillian Hart

tea kettle on a trivet. It was just a woman's natural reaction to a virile, very masculine man, she reasoned, and certainly not a big deal. Nothing to worry about.
    "Ground rules," he said, turning around, leaning against the counter, feet braced, long legs and strong body set, arms crossed over his impressive chest. His chiseled mouth tugged downward in the corners. "I'm not looking for a friend, so keep your distance."
    "That shouldn't be too difficult." She dunked the dishcloth into the soapy water basin tucked in the sink and swished it around, gave it a squeeze to wring it out. "Whenever I see you in one room, I'll race into another. Or rush down the hallway the second I spot you."
    "You're making fun of me." His sculpted lips tightened, drawing deep lines around the corners of his mouth, lines that might have been dimples if he'd been smiling. His hazel eyes snapped. "And I don't like it."
    "Too bad, you'll just have to get used to it." She breezily swiped down the marble counter. "It's not easy being stuck here, and if I can't make fun of you, then what's the point?"
    Twinkles came to life in those attractive, hazel eyes. She saw the first hints of laughter, of the man's deep and easy sense of humor. But Miles reined it in, biting the inside of his cheek, forcing the corners of his mouth downward. He stared hard at the floor until the urge to laugh passed. "When you put it like that, I guess you'll have to take your pleasures where you can. I'll try to endure the teasing."
    "You look tough enough to take it. Don't worry, I'll be gentle with you." Now she was the one laughing, feeling a tug on her heart and a rippling sensation in her stomach. She leaned forward, concentrating overly much on a dried spot of something stuck to the marble top and scrubbed at it until it was gone. "So, that's one ground rule negotiated. What's number two?"
    "Keep your suitors in line or I'll do it for you." Now he turned grim, his voice lowering a note, booming with disapproval. "We have a quiet life here. That's the way I want it."
    "Suitors?" She wrinkled her forehead, gave the now spotless countertop one more swipe and rinsed the cloth in the dish water. "I don't have any suitors. Besides, I won't be staying here long enough to get any. I'll be gone in time for Christmas."
    "You're kidding, right?" He arched an eyebrow at her. "This is a town full of bachelors. We've had a housekeeper get married at the rate of one a month. Once word spreads there's a pretty, single woman staying here, they'll be banging on the door. Don't think the blizzard will stop them."
    "Now you're teasing me." Her chin went up. "It's because I was a mail-order bride, isn't it? Well, I'll have you know Chester was the only suitor who returned my letter. The only one, out of the fifty advertisements I answered."
    "Only one, huh?" His face hardened, turning to granite. "I don't believe that. You're a very beautiful woman—"
    "I am?" She blushed, a little flustered. She hadn't been prepared for the compliment, especially from Miles. Wasn't that sweet of him? And honestly, who would have guessed he had a sweet side?
    "You have to know you are," he said very un-sweetly, tension bunching along his jaw. "So let's get this clear. As soon as morning comes, I'm predicting we'll have bachelors lining up at the door. It's not my business who you let court you, but you're not to meet them here on McClintock land. Got it?"
    "Not a problem. I'm not desperate enough to marry just any man, but maybe you don't realize that about me." She leaned against the counter, crossed her arms over her chest and considered the man across from her. Boy, he had some issues, didn't he? "I
could
be offended that you think so poorly of me, but I know you've had a bad experience. I'm not an opportunist, Miles."
    "A couple of bad experiences, and most women
are
opportunists." A muscle strummed along the angled lines of his powerful jaw. Tension corded in his neck. He seemed to expand by two sizes and