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

gym. “Charles said you were here to buy a last-minute Christmas gift. Did you find what you wanted?” she inquired with chilly politeness, in the vain hope that his gaze would stop flicking to her cleavage.
    He looked over his shoulder at the wreckage of the Festive Fun Palace. “Not exactly.”
    “What were you after?” Maybe if she solved his gift-purchasing problem he’d leave. “Perhaps I can help you?”
    “I doubt it,” he said wearily, all amusement gone now as he raked a hand through his hair. “I’ve got to find the perfect Christmas doll.”
    It was only then that she noticed the bruised smudges under his eyes and the thin lines of exhaustion around those sensual lips.
    “Who’s it for?” she asked as a wave of sympathy crested, but was quickly quashed. The flight home from the resort had probably been a red-eye.
    He sent her a questioning look, as if he wasn’t entirely convinced by her offer of help, then said evasively: “A very special lady.”
    “You date women who like dolls ?” she said, failing to control the sneer as it occurred to her the bimbos he dated had probably been dolls in a former life.
    His brows lifted fractionally, then fused into a sharp frown, and the muscle in his jaw tightened. “Is there a problem with that?”
    “No,” she said, getting the sneer under control, just. Far be it from her to insult him—or his reincarnated bimbos. “Not at all, we have a lot of adult customers who like to collect,” she added in her best client-friendly voice as something pinched under her breastbone that felt suspiciously like envy.
    How come even bimbos with toy fixations got to spend Christmas with someone special—and she didn’t?

Chapter Four
    Well, what d’you know? The old man has hired someone as cold and judgmental as him to work in his marketing department.
    Ryder held back the sigh of regret.
    What a shame. For a moment there, Katherine Braithwaite had seemed kind of cute and tenacious, even a tiny bit intriguing. And her rack really was a sight to behold. But humorless workaholics who judged people by some invisible yardstick that would always leave them feeling not-quite-good-enough was what he’d spent his whole life avoiding. He’d just have to steer well clear of those wide emerald eyes, the fit little body, the clipped smoky British accent that made him think of sexy schoolmarms—and that sinful snickerdoodle scent.
    He generally avoided sex-for-the-sake-of-it these days, ever since he and Christine had managed to make Gully during a drunken one-night stand in college.
    And he wasn’t going to mention his little girl to her. Gully was precious, important. She was the best thing he’d ever done in his life, and he sure as hell didn’t intend to talk about her to one of his father’s familiars.
    Ignoring the woman, he glanced back at the doll apocalypse. Hell, he was too damn tired to make a decision today, and he’d caused enough damage already. He’d come back first thing in the morning, have a chat with one of the sales assistants and pick something up then. His father would be here, as the man spent pretty much every spare minute at Sinclair’s, so Ryder could get that chore out of the way, too.
    “What time does the store open tomorrow?” he asked, figuring if she was anything like his old man she probably had the hours of business tattooed on her pert little behind.
    “Ten o’clock,” she said with a distinct hint of pride in her voice. Yup, she had it as bad as his father. Why else would she be working on Christmas Day?
    “Great,” he said, not much relishing the thought of having to return two days in a row. He’d always hated this place. Ever since his father had insisted on dragging him here on Saturdays to punish him—usually for some minor infraction he couldn’t even remember committing. He’d spend the day on his own, forced to sit in the walnut-paneled office on the sixth floor while his friends got to go to Little League with