Harlequin Holiday Collection - Four Classic Seasonal Novellas

stay focused. Ignore this woman’s lithe curves. Tune out her musical lilt and blind himself to her full red lips.

    Or not.
    Clint realized his mistake shortly after they reconvened in a secluded alcove tucked away in a corner of the book-lined reading room some hours later.
    Clint had used the intervening time to check out Sophie’s story. Hadn’t taken long. Sophia Hawthorne’s life was easily traceable through the FBI’s access to public databases. Thanks to academic databases, he’d also skimmed a short summary of her master’s thesis. He was prepared for a session with an acknowledged scholar.
    He wasn’t prepared for the punch to his gut when she breezed in with a stack of books in her arms, her cheeks pink from the cold. Or the hip-hugging jeans and clingy sweater she revealed when she shed her well-worn pea jacket. Or the distracting way she hooked her hair behind one ear, leaving only a loose tendril to feather her cheek when they delved into the books.
    Worse—much worse—were her ready smile and sparkling green eyes. The woman’s engaging personality proved every bit as seductive as her trim curves and astounding knowledge of the great stone megaliths that dated back to one of the earliest eras of human history.
    Ireland and Britain were rife with these monuments, Clint learned as Sophie dived eagerly into the subject. Huge tombs, massive altars, mysterious circles such as Stonehenge and the Stones of Stenness in Scotland—many decorated with symbols and carvings that had to be protected against vandals and souvenir collectors.
    “You wouldn’t believe how these idiots chip away at history,” Sophie huffed. “I caught two of them myself. They got into the ancient documents section here at the library by passing themselves off as visiting scholars. Took me all of thirty seconds to realize how little the goms knew of eighth-century illuminated manuscripts. Another thirty to figure out they planned to rip off a page for a personal trophy!”
    At that point, two thoughts battled for supremacy in Clint’s head. The first was that Sophie Hawthorne already had more experience nailing would-be antiquities thieves than he did. The second…
    Dammit! Did the woman have any idea how enticing she looked with her emerald eyes so indignant and her mouth all pouty like that?
    Hunger for her hit like a punch to the gut. Gritting his teeth, Clint ignored it and forced himself to focus on a drawing depicting the layout of the tomb.
    “Don’t you need those?” Sophie asked, nodding to the glasses tucked in his jacket pocket.
    Well, hell! He’d been so distracted by the woman he’d forgotten his cover.
    “Only for fine print,” he lied.
    She shrugged and went back to the task at hand. Clint took in the facts and dates and dimensions…until Sophie leaned closer to point out a prehistoric spiral design in one of her books.
    Her breast pressed his arm. Her hips nudged his.
    “This is the triple spiral you’ll see at Newgrange.”
    When he didn’t respond, she glanced up. Clint heard the little hitch in her breath, couldn’t miss the awareness that flared in her eyes.
    She felt it, too , he saw with a stab of fierce male satisfaction. The electricity. The heat.
    Giving in to the need that had grown steadily since their first meeting at the pub, he slid a hand under her hair and cupped the warm skin of her nape.
    Her eyes went wide. Her mouth parted.
    Clint gave her time to pull back, expecting she would, hoping she wouldn’t. When she didn’t, he bent and brushed his lips over hers.

Chapter Three
    Sophie couldn’t believe it!
    She’d indulged in only one rather tepid affair during her years in Dublin. Now, after less than three hours with Clint Walker, one taste of him made her want more. Much more. She tilted her head to give him a better angle and opened her lips under his. With a little grunt, he shifted in his chair, propped the back of her head in his palm and found her tongue.
    Jaysus, Mary and Joseph! The man was wicked with that mouth. Sparks ignited at flash points throughout Sophie’s body. Heat speared into her belly, her breasts…
    When she drew back, her breath came in hard, fast pants. So did his, thank heavens. She would have been mortified if she had been the only one who’d almost come unraveled.
    “Sorry.” Frowning, Clint shook his head. “That was…”
    Amazing. Unbelievable. Incredibly stupid!
    The adjectives raced through Clint’s mind as he willed his rebellious