It must have been the mistletoe

ll auto mechanic Dominic Fabrino had in common with prim professional Martha Townsend was the clunker of a car she entrusted to his skillful hands. He'd do well to remember that the lady herself was strictly hands-off. Her kind demanded high-test for their corporate careers, while their emotions ran on empty. Not for Dom this sterile blend--he required a richer mix of play and puppies, kids and kisses.

Still, something bleak in Marti's beautiful eyes made his masterly fingers itch to banish whatever cruel legacy had hurt her spirit, to fill up her heart with a holiday glow. It would take some talented tinkering, but maybe, just maybe, he could maneuver her under some mistletoe...