Read Online Baby, It's Cold Outside by Heidi Rice, Kate Hardy, Aimee Carson, Amy Andrews - Free Book Online Page A

Braithwaite,” she said, using her full name in the hope that it might intimidate him. “And I’m the assistant marketing manager at Sinclair’s.”
    His eyes narrowed, but he finally released her wrists.
    She crossed her freed arms over her unfortunate display of cleavage and pressed down on the traitorous nipples, hoping to heck he hadn’t noticed them sticking out like two sore thumbs. But instead of getting off her he settled back on his haunches, making muscular thighs flex on either side of her hips.
    “Uh-huh. So what are you doing here on Christmas Day dressed as a leprechaun?”
    Kate’s usual patience began to disintegrate at the amused tone.
    “I could ask you the same question,” she shot back, even though she knew perfectly well what he was doing here: stealing merchandise from a company that already paid him an exorbitant salary for doing bugger all. She wriggled furiously. “Now get off me, you big oaf,” she demanded, having had quite enough of being manhandled and interrogated.
    She didn’t care if he was Lachlan Sinclair’s precious son, if the man tried to get her fired over this incident she would sue.
    He didn’t budge. “I don’t see how you could ask me the same question,” he said as his gaze took another leisurely trip over her skimpy outfit. “I’m not dressed as a leprechaun.”
    His lips lifted in a mocking and disturbingly sexy grin. Her heartbeat kicked up a notch—out of irritation, she decided.
    “This isn’t a leprechaun’s outfit, you moron. I’m supposed to be one of Santa’s Little Helpers,” she said, not even attempting to hold back the condescension this time.
    The stupid man had scared the life out of her, not to mention demolished six hours of work in a single second by knocking over the Festive Fun Palace of Christmas Dolls, and he kept checking out her boobs. It was too much.
    “Oh yeah?”
    His eyes crinkled at the corners, making it very clear he was having an absolute ball at her expense.
    “When did Santa start hiring lap dancers?”
    That did it.
    Kate felt the tips of her ears ignite as her temper exploded. “You son of a…” She shoved him hard in the chest. He toppled off her as a deep rumbling laugh choked out.
    She jumped up, and he rolled onto his knees, still bent over and laughing.
    “That’s disgusting,” she said, so furious she wanted to throttle him.
    “Now, Katherine.” He got slowly to his feet, and she had an uncomfortable realization of how tall he was as he towered over her. “Don’t get in a snit. It wasn’t that bad.” A couple more laughs choked out as his eyes, alight with amusement, lifted to her face.
    She stood stiffly, desperately self-conscious not only about the preposterous outfit, but also about his use of her given name and the disarming smile that lurked at the corners of his mouth.
    He lifted a finger and brushed it down her cheek. “You look real cute when you’re disgusted.”
    She jerked away from the live-wire touch, mortified by the husky timbre of his voice and the way it shimmered over her nerve endings.
    He coughed. And finally stopped laughing. Then raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. “I’m sorry I jumped you. I wasn’t expecting anyone else to be here on Christmas Day—and I’m still edgy after two months in country.”
    In country? What country was he talking about?
    He held out one large hand. “Let’s shake on it and forget it ever happened.”
    She glanced down at his peace offering, and although she’d rather not have to touch him again, she decided it would probably be best not to make a scene. The sooner she got away from this man, the better.
    Keeping one hand firmly holding the bodice of the dress together, she reached out with the other.
    Long fingers wrapped around her hand, rough calluses rubbing against her palm, and the shimmer of awareness arrowed down.
    She yanked her hand back, deciding the calluses probably came from all the weight lifting he obviously did in the