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but I’ve got it. I know exactly how they go.”

      Instinctively he placed a hand on her hip to steady her while with his other hand he gripped the stool. The heat of her body seeped through her jeans and into his hand, sending a strange sensation pulsating up his arm.

      She glanced down at him and their gazes caught for a second more than was necessary. Then she turned away and attempted to string the lights on three little hooks above the door.

      “There. That should do.” With his hand aiding her, she climbed down the few steps. “Would you mind plugging them in?” She pointed to the outlet on the other side of the porch.

      He was glad to help, even if it was just something small. And the fact that this independent woman let him do anything at all must mean that he was making a little bit of progress with her. He liked that thought—not that he was going to let this budding friendship go too far. But it would be nice to have someone around with whom he could strike up a friendly conversation. He quickly found the end of the extension cord and plugged in the additional string of lights.

      He turned around to find that she’d returned to the front lawn to inspect her own handiwork. Deciding that she had the right idea, he did the same. He glanced up at the house, finding it looked just as good as before. “You did a great job.”

      “It’s no big deal. But it’s nice to know that someone enjoys my efforts.”

      “Do you need help with anything else?”

      “Actually, I do.”

      Her answer surprised him. “Tell me what you need.”

      “After dinner, I need to go get a Christmas tree.”

      She was going to chop down a tree? She might have the determination, but he wasn’t so sure that she had the physical strength. He wondered whom she would turn to if he wasn’t here. The thought of her leaning on another man didn’t sit well with him.

      Ignoring the bothersome thought, he followed her back to the porch and helped collect her supplies. “I must admit this will be a first for me.”

      “Where exactly are you from?”

      He didn’t want to lie to her, but he knew that he couldn’t be totally honest. With his accent there was no way he could pass for an American. There had to be a way around this tricky topic.

      He decided to turn things around. “Where do you think I’m from?”

      “I don’t know.” She tilted her head to the side and eyed him. “Let me think about it.”

      Spending time with Reese could be trickier than he’d imagined. He didn’t want to lie to her, but telling her about his homeland was not an option. Maybe he should have stayed in the apartment and avoided her altogether. He inwardly groaned. As if that would be possible with them being roommates.

      Besides, he already had a date with her. Correction. He had plans with her.

      Oh, boy, was he in deep trouble, and it was only his second day in New York.

      THIS WASN’T A good idea after all.

      Reese closed the side door to the garage and inhaled a steadying breath. She’d been far too aware of Alex at dinner. The deep rumble of his contagious laughter. The way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled, making him even more handsome—if that was possible. And the way he listened to her as though each word she uttered truly mattered.

      This was not good.

      What had she been thinking inviting this man to go pick out a Christmas-tree with her? It wasn’t as if she needed any help. Since her father’s death, she’d been managing everything on her own. Why should that change now?

      But she reasoned that Alex was an important guest. His enormous fee would help her meet this month’s bills...she hoped. It was definitely a good incentive to make his stay here as pleasant as possible. And perhaps he’d recommend his friends stay at The Willows the next time they visited the city.

      And if they were all as easy on the eyes, she wouldn’t complain. After all, looking didn’t hurt anything. It was getting involved with men that set you up for a world of pain. Just ask her mother. And even Reese had been involved with someone after her father died who’d promptly dumped her when he found out she wasn’t a rich debutante. The memory still stung. How could she have been so foolish as to fall for her ex’s promises?

      In the end, she’d learned an important life lesson—don’t trust men with your heart. Eventually they’ll hurt you when you least expect it.

      As for Alex DeLuca, she was so far out of that man’s league that it was laughable. So what was she worrying about? She could relax and enjoy having some company for once.

      She pressed the automatic garage door opener and started the truck. It coughed and sputtered and the breath caught in her throat. Please don’t let this be another thing I need money to fix. As though in response to her silent prayer, when she turned the key again the engine caught. She exhaled a pent-up breath and put the vehicle in drive.

      In no time at all, Alex was seated next to her. “Reese, thank you for allowing me to ride along.”

      The Rs rolled off his tongue in such a divine way. She stopped herself just short of swooning. He could definitely say her name as often as he wanted. Realizing that she was letting her thoughts wander, she reminded herself that he was her guest—nothing else.

      “Um...sure. No problem.” In an effort to keep her thoughts from straying, she turned on the radio and switched stations until holiday music filled the air. As an afterthought, she said, “I hope you don’t mind some music.”

      “Not at all. Back home my mother used to always have music filling the...house.”

      She noticed his use of the past tense and then the awkward pause. She wondered if he too was a member of the lost-a-parent-prematurely club. It was not something she’d wish on anyone—no matter the circumstances. But then again, maybe she was reading too much into his choice of words, as English was obviously his second language.

      In an effort to change the topic of conversation to something more casual, she said, “That’s right, I was supposed to guess where you’re from. I’m not great with placing accents, but I’m thinking somewhere in the Mediterranean. Maybe Italy?”

      “Very good guess. Maybe you are better at figuring out accents than you think.”

      English definitely had a different ring to it when Alex was speaking. It had a sort of soothing melody. She could listen to him talk for hours.

      “If you don’t mind me asking, what brought you to New York?”

      “Business. Or should I say, I am between business negotiations. With people being out of the office for the holidays, I decided to stay in New York and experience a white Christmas.”

      “You hope.”

      “What?”

      She could feel his gaze on her. “I meant you hope to see a white Christmas. Snow around these parts is hit or miss. The snow we’re getting now might be all we get until after the New Year.”

      Was it possible he had no family to go home to? Why else would he rent out an inn for the holiday? Pity welled up in her. She couldn’t blame him for not wanting to spend Christmas alone. She’d had a taste of that when her mother was having problems. It was lonely and sad, filled with nothing but memories.

      Which led her to her next question: How did such a handsome, obviously successful man end up alone? Surely he wouldn’t have a hard time finding a date or two. Oh, who was she kidding? He could probably have a different date for breakfast, lunch and dinner, seven days a week, and still have plenty leftover. Perhaps if her life were different she might have

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