Riley - His Christmas Cookie.pdf | Alexa

The mountain air was crisp, but inside the cabin, the warmth of the hearth and Silas’s unwavering devotion provided a sense of peace Noelle had never known. This Christmas marked the beginning of a new chapter, one where she was cherished far beyond the walls of her bakery.

He walked toward her, his large frame making the bakery kitchen feel tiny. When he reached her, he didn't pick up a spatula. Instead, he reached out and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, his thumb lingering on her jaw.

"I saw the lights on late," he murmured. "I’m not letting you spend Christmas Eve working yourself to the bone alone." "It’s my job, Silas. I have to finish." Alexa Riley - His Christmas Cookie.pdf

"Then we finish together," he decided, already rolling up his expensive shirt sleeves to reveal tattooed forearms. "Show me what to do. But fair warning, Noelle—once these cookies are done, you’re mine. I’m taking you home, putting you by the fire, and I’m never letting you go."

The deep, gravelly voice made her spin around. Standing in the doorway of her kitchen was Silas Vane. Silas was the town’s most successful—and most reclusive—architect. He was also the man who had bought every single one of her "Broken Heart" brownies every day for the last month just to see her smile. The mountain air was crisp, but inside the

Silas didn't move. He just looked at her with an intensity that made the industrial ovens feel cold. "I don't care about the codes, and you’re the most beautiful thing in this room. Even covered in frosting."

The flour on Noelle’s nose was the only thing standing between her and a complete holiday meltdown. As the owner of The Sugared Spatula , she had three hundred gingerbread men to decorate before the town’s Christmas Eve gala, and her piping bag had just exploded. "Need a hand, Little Cookie?" When he reached her, he didn't pick up a spatula

Noelle’s heart did a somersault. "You’re very bossy for a man who doesn't know how to use a rolling pin."