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When Scott Eugene Anderson inherits his aunt's motel in the foothills of the White Mountains, he decides to turn it into a motel for anonymous sexual fantasies and advertises himself as The Love Genie.

Irene Landin is looking for a nice man to spend Christmas with and Mitch McDonald is in search of hot holiday cheer. The meet at The Love Genie in a Victorian fantasy.

Can the Love Genie work his magic on a widow looking for a cuddle-buddy and a divorced man in search of a hot Christmas?

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Irene noticed Mitch wasn’t paying much attention to the game. She had difficulty concentrating too. He provided such an attractive distraction, sitting across from her.

His rugged face, laugh lines around his deep-set hazel eyes, and slightly shaggy hair, dark brown dusted with gray, charmed her. And what his lean, rangy body did to a Victorian suit ought to be bottled. Her heart beat faster. She hadn’t expected to be attracted to Mitch.

“I’m ready to concede that you win.” His resonant voice sent tingles surging through her.

“That’s okay. I’m ready to move on to a different game.” Irene couldn’t believe she said something that bold.

A twinkle of appreciation lit his eyes. “I think we should have a fire — to warm things up.”

“If you think we need it.”

“I think it would be romantic.”

Hearing a guy talk about being romantic surprised Irene. In her experience, women wanted the mushy stuff. Looked like she was going to get the snuggling she wanted. “That too.”

He stood, slid off his jacket, and hung it on the back of the chair. Next, he rolled up the sleeves of his shirt and strolled over to the fireplace.

Irene couldn’t tear her gaze away from him. A little voice inside her kept saying, “take it off, take it all off.”