Read Online No Christmas Like the Present by Sierra Donovan - Free Book Online Page A

straightening the scarf, his eyes never leaving hers. What did he see there, and what was he thinking? She forced herself to breathe slowly, deeply, afraid to move, afraid he’d know what she was thinking. All she had to do was tilt her head back a little to raise her mouth toward his—
    â€”and make a complete fool of herself.
    Instead, Lindsay lowered her eyes to study the scarf—a more delicate knit than Fred’s, made from yarn so soft it threatened to melt between her fingers. It was white with slim red stripes.
    It matched the candy cane earrings.
    â€œThank you.” Breaking the silence seemed to break the spell.
    â€œIt suits you.” Fred stood back to give her another moment’s contemplation, then smiled his approval. “Ready to go?”
    â€œMaybe we should ask Jeanne to go with us.” What? The words came out of her mouth unbidden. But something told her it might be smart not to spend too much time alone with Fred.
    He appeared to consider it. “No, let’s keep it between the two of us tonight. We have a lot of ground to cover.”
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    Half an hour later, Lindsay found herself riding beside Fred in a one-horse open sleigh.
    Well, all right, a horse and carriage. But the bells on the horses’ bridles jingled just like the ones in the song. White drifts of snow surrounded them on both sides of the road, piled high from the work of the snowplow yesterday. The lake district, just twenty minutes from Lindsay’s home, got a lot more snow than her neighborhood, thanks to its higher altitude. And unlike the snow in her neighborhood, this snow would stay on the ground all winter long.
    Lindsay looked back over her shoulder to make sure the street full of cars still existed behind them. It did. But the city had cordoned off two blocks for the Christmas street festival, so that it was only open to foot traffic and the horse-drawn carriages. The little shops and businesses in this area all sat shoulder to shoulder, sharing one long overhang that ran the length of the block. Long swags of small white Christmas lights hung from store to store. Street lamps, installed ten years ago but designed to look like their old gas-powered cousins, were wound with evergreen garland and red ribbon. Most of the downtown businesses closed by early evening, but out in front of the stores, pushcarts stood loaded down with wares that Lindsay strained for a better peek at as they passed. Pedestrians bustled purposefully or strolled casually among the carts, well bundled against the cold.
    Up in the carriage, it was even colder, above the sidewalk with no protection from the wind. The frosty air bit her cheeks, and she pulled the big, heavy woven lap robe up around her.
    She felt Fred’s arm behind her, offering a little extra warmth. From any other man, the move would have seemed opportunistic. From Fred, she wasn’t so sure. At this particular moment, Lindsay thought she might trust Fred more than she trusted herself. But sitting forward felt prim and uncomfortable as well as cold, so at last she gave in and settled back.
    Sure enough, with Fred’s firm, solid arm behind her shoulders, a sensation of warmth welcomed her. His coat sleeve held a woolen, masculine scent, and Lindsay held back a sigh. The inviting comfort of Fred beside her felt safe and dangerous at the same time.
    â€œHow did you know about this?” she asked.
    â€œThey do it every year, the week before Christmas. Didn’t you know?”
    â€œI’ve heard about it. But how did you know?”
    â€œWhen it comes to Christmas, I make it my business to know. I suppose you’ve never been?”
    â€œNo.” Lindsay saw his mouth tighten slightly, as though he were biting the inside of his lip to keep from saying something obvious. It was a look she was coming to recognize. “Go ahead,” she challenged him. “Lecture me.”
    â€œWho learns anything from a