by Taylor Hart
“I always get after her when she bakes those.”
“I try not to eat sugar, but there must be exceptions.”
Trin eyed him warily. “I don’t trust anyone who doesn’t eat sugar.”
Zander chuckled. The warmth and depth of it washed over Trin. She had to resist fanning her face. Darn southern heat, right? It wasn’t him that was heating her up. But it was November and the high today was only seventy. She couldn’t really blame the environment for the flush to her skin.
“I’m eating it right now.” He took another bite of the cookie and a crumble of cinnamon sugar clung to the side of his lip. “Does that mean you can trust me?”
“You’re wearing it right now.” Trin reached up and brushed the crumble from his lip. Her fingers seemed to linger of their own accord. His lips and beard were much softer than they looked.
His eyes flashed up to meet hers. She swallowed hard and dropped her hand.
“Thank you,” he murmured.
Trin nodded and spun on her heel. Her heels clicked merrily on the tile floor. He followed her to the grand staircase and they walked side by side up it. He ran his hand along the oak banister. “Wow. I just keep feeling like I’m stuck in Gone with the Wind.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“That show terrified me. I’m waiting for Scarlett to sweep down the stairs and tell me off.”
Trin laughed. “I’m scared of spiders,” she commiserated.
“And you live in the south?”
“I know, dumb, right?”
“I’ll kill all your spiders if you keep Scarlett away from me.”
They reached the landing and Zander extended his hand. Trin shook his hand, loving the feel of his strong fingers surrounding hers. “Deal.” She pulled her hand back, lest she forget she had a lot of reasons to be wary of this good-looking, lying man. “Women scare you?”
“No, just harpies.”
Trin had a flashback to him being on The Bachelor. He had gotten rid of any snarky or demanding women as quickly as possible. He’d ended up with some real sweethearts, but they still hadn’t made the cut. She would love to ask him about it sometime. If he ever owned up to who he was.
“I’ll keep the harpies away.” She smiled at him and pointed to her right. “Just down this hall, sir.”
“Oh, no, not you too. Everybody in the south calls me, sir, and I have to look around for my dad.”
Trin understood thinking only older people should be called sir and ma’am, but she saw an opportunity and pounced. What if she was one of the harpies she’d just promised to keep him away from? She thought how to phrase the question, but settled for, “Are you close to your dad?”
He nodded quickly. “He’s good to me.”
They reached the Sunny Suite.
“So, this is me?” Zander asked. He leaned against the door and Trin was reminded all over again why women thought he was such a heartthrob. The casual elegance. The perfectly sculpted facial features. The nicely-formed muscles that were large enough to be noticeable, but not bulky. He was obviously quite the athlete. She sighed and then caught herself.
“Yep.” Producing the key, she turned it in the lock, swung the door open, and handed him the key.
His fingers clasped around hers with the key between them. “No key cards at the Cloverdale Mansion?”
“No, sir.” Her house was old school and she liked it.
He smiled and released her hand. Trin took in a quick breath, reeling from his touch and the look in his eyes. He still hadn’t turned from staring at her to look into the room. It was one of her favorites—spacious and sunlit. He should probably check it out and stop checking out her.
“Are you pleased with your accommodations, sir?”
Zander cast a quick glance around the huge suite with large windows overlooking the rear lawn and gardens, a sitting area, huge bathroom with the original claw-foot tub and a brand new glass-enclosed shower, the four-poster bed that wasn’t original, but was period specific. He refocused quickly on Trin’s face. “It’s exquisitely beautiful.”
She blushed and cursed whatever ancestor had made it so she didn’t have beautiful dark skin like Moriah. “Thank you,” she muttered. “Please let any of us know if you need anything. There are refreshments available in the dining room at all times. Breakfast is from seven to ten a.m.”
She turned quickly and started back down the hall.
Movement behind her made her turn. Zander was leaning against the doorframe again, simply watching her go. She tripped on the rug, but quickly righted herself.
“Are you all right?” Zander’s footsteps catching up to her made her increase her pace.
“Fine.” She held up a hand and almost ran to the stairs. She needed to get away from his penetrating stares and casually leaning body, and figure out how she was going to save her home.
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Excerpt Love on the Rebound
Prologue to Love on the Rebound (Hawaii Billionaire Series)
By Jennifer Youngblood & Sandra Poole
Everly turned her face to the sun, liking how the warmth stretched her skin, making it feel tingly and tight. It was mid-afternoon, and the gentle rocking of the boat was lulling her to sleep. Mitchell shifted on the blanket and then angled toward her. Lightly, he trailed the tips of his fingers up and down her arm.
“What do you say we go for a dive before we head into shore?”
A lazy haze had settled over Everly, and all she wanted to do was sleep. “Maybe later,” she mumbled.
“Come on,” he urged. “Just once more, you know you want to.” He leaned over and started tickling her.
She sat up, laughing. “Mitchell! Stop!”
“Come diving with me.” His blue eyes were as clear as the sparkling water surrounding them. He thrust out his lower lip in a pout. “Please.”
“Okay,” she relented.
He flashed a dazzling smile. “Perfect! I’ll help you get suited up.”
Minutes later, they plunged into the water. Everly could feel the weight of the water pressing around her as they descended lower into the mysterious world below. Mitchell loved diving, but from the moment she’d entered the water she felt vulnerable. There were so many things that could go wrong, even for experienced divers. She tried to stay close to Mitchell as they explored.
Time was distorted underwater, but Everly was certain they’d been under too long. She kept pointing to the surface, shining like the moon overhead in the blue abyss. She tried to persuade Mitchell to go up with her. But he shook his head no and took off in another direction. She went after him. But as soon as she got close enough to touch him, he escaped her grasp, like a fish playing a game of tag. Finally, she couldn’t handle it any longer. She started going up. Then she realized Mitchell was struggling. In a flurry, she went back down to help him. His eyes radiated panic through the mask. He was running out of air! She tried to help, but it was no use. Anguish wrenched her gut as she watched him sink into the black nothingness. Then Everly realized she was running out of air. She fought her way to the surface, trying to gulp in what little air her oxygen tank provided.
She couldn’t breathe! A steel band was squeezing her lungs. She jerked to a sitting position and opened her eyes. It took Everly a second to realize where she was—in her bedroom, her cheeks wet with tears.
“Mommy?” Jordan scampered toward her. “I’m scared.”
Had she cried out in her sleep and woken him up? She rubbed her eyes and tried to orient herself to the present as she patted the empty space beside her on the bed. “Come here.”
He climbed into bed with her.
Everly lay back down and pulled up the covers as Jordan huddled next to her. The terror on Mitchell’s face had felt so real. A shudder went through her. It had been a few months since she had the nightmare, and she’d hoped she’d finally moved beyond the trauma. It must’ve been brought on by the anxiety of getting ready for th
e trip tomorrow. She lay there, staring unseeingly at the ceiling, her mind lost in another time. Jordan’s warm body was comforting. As she listened to his steady breathing, she finally drifted back to sleep.
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Excerpt Marrying Miss Kringle Romancing Miss Kringle Romancing Miss Kringle
by Lucy McConnell
Chapter 1
Ginger Marie Kringle snuck into the quiet toy production office. The overhead lights were off, leaving her favorite sister, Stella, in a shadowy outline created by the computer screen’s muted glow. The short pixie haircut accentuated her long and graceful neck. Ginger smoothed a hand down her long, auburn ponytail. How two girls from the same set of genes could look so different was beyond her.
All five of the Kringle girls had a distinct appearance; none of them had the same color of eyes, hair, or skin. And yet, there were similarities—their smile for one, their love for all things Christmas for two …
Beyond Stella’s desk was a large window overlooking the largest of their manufacturing facilities. Even with the call for name-brand electronics, there was a large demand for stuffed animals, bicycles, dollhouses, and other classic childhood wishes. Stella, with her extreme organizational skills, oversaw the production of toys. Ginger, on the other hand, was over list management. She’d inherited her father’s naughty/nice radar, which annoyed her four sisters to no end.
Honestly, if you’re going to sneak around, at least lock the door. Ginger grinned as she crept forward. Stella shared the space with several elves. But since elves hated paperwork, Stella had the place to herself most of the time. Whatever she was up to, it had to be good. None of her other sisters sent out naughty beacons like Stella did.
Robyn, the oldest, managed elf resources, ensuring that the elves were happy, healthy, and took their required two weeks of vacation—which many of them resented her for, but what could she do? Even a Christmas elf needed a break now and then.
Lux, the second oldest, worked in IT. Five years ago she’d updated and streamlined the whole system, making it possible to view everything from the child’s letter to the fulfillment receipt on the same software. If anyone deserved a vacation, it was Lux. That girl worked like an elf, happily hiding from the world behind her big glasses and hard drives.
Ginger came next in birth order, followed by Stella and the surprise baby, Frost. Frost organized the mail room. She read every letter and often brought her work to the dinner table. She and Ginger worked closely to ensure that those on the good list had their letters expedited through the system.
But Ginger wasn’t thinking about letters or elf relations or production numbers. She’d gotten close enough to absorb the image on Stella’s computer screen. A handsome man on horseback, framed by a purple heart, rode along a railroad tie fence. He was cute, in a way that set off her naughty list alarm. The phrase Country Guys and Gals Online Dating danced across the top of the screen in a horrid bright pink. Next to the man’s profile picture was a messaging screen. Can we meet? Ginger read.
Oh, yeah. Like that would go over well. Let me just park the sleigh on the roof and I’ll pop down the restaurant’s chimney. The cook would love that.
Unlike her mother, who embraced Christmas Magic and all it entailed, Ginger liked to keep her Kringle-ness under wraps, preferring to blend in with the rest of the world as much as possible. She’d fit in quite nicely at UC Santa Barbara and had enjoyed living a “normal” life. One day … one day she’d move to Mexico to be near her Grandpa and Grandma Kringle, but for now, her family needed her. Case in point: someone had to keep Stella out of trouble.
The cursor blinked, waiting for a reply to the stranger’s invitation.
“Ho ho ho,” Ginger whispered in Stella’s ear.
Her sister jumped out of her seat, her eyes wild. “Ginger!”
Ginger wiggled her fingers hello.
Falling back into her chair, Stella glared. “I thought you were Dad!”
Sliding easily onto the desk next to the laptop, her long skirt gathering around her longer legs, Ginger smirked. “If I were Dad, you’d be halfway to the South Pole.”
Stella leaned back in her chair, a challenge in her chestnut eyes. “Halfway to the South Pole wouldn’t be all that bad. Beaches, tan lines, and surfers are a few of my favorite things.”
“You can wave as the sleigh goes by,” Ginger replied dryly.
Ignoring her, Stella said goodbye to her mystery man and closed the screen. The lights in the work room below them flickered before returning at half power. Both Ginger and Stella pressed their hands to the cool glass and held their breath. Ginger’s worry over Stella’s dating life was pushed aside. At this point in the year, they should be cranking out the toys, not running at half capacity.
“That’s the second time this morning.” Stella picked up her phone and hit the press to call button. “Talk to me, Robbie.”
Robbie, Stella’s right-hand elf, waved from the work floor. His green hat bobbed as he spoke. “The crafty cooking section is down, and we’ve got a clog in the stuffing station.”
Ginger waved back to him. The damage was minimal compared to the brownout last week. Ginger’s department had just finished entering the previously hand-kept list into the system when the power dimmed. Thankfully, Lux had been able to retrieve the files. She really was a genius.
Stella’s machinery had gone down too, sending the elves back to hand stitching and carving. They loved it. The Kringles? Not so much. Something was brewing at the North Pole. Lux, the resident nerd, practically slept in the computer room. She and Dad spent hours poring over charts and graphs and schematics Ginger couldn’t make heads or tails of.
“Has Lux figured out why this is happening?” Stella demanded as she rebooted her computer.
Ginger blinked. “Not that I’ve heard. It’s driving her nuts.”
“The rest of us, too.”
Feeling useless in toy production, Ginger decided she’d best get back to what she was best at: checking the list. “I’m headed to the lib—” Ginger let out a startled cry and grabbed her wrist. Searing light burned from her arm. Tiny snowflakes danced like lightning bugs around the sisters. The sound of sleigh bells filled her ears. With a splendiferous whoosh of frosty wind, Ginger’s skirts wrapped around her and then flared out, her hair lifting off her back. Knowledge jumped to her consciousness. Images of children at play and work and crying and laughing and running and jumping and caring flickered before her eyes like DVR on fast forward. She knew them. Knew their names. Knew their hearts. The good and the bad. A crash of cymbals reminded her to breathe. She gasped, and everything disappeared, leaving the room in semidarkness once again.
“What the holly-jolly was that?” Stella flipped on the lights.
Ginger, holding her forearm, stared at the two-inch snowflake outlined in exquisite detail in the skin below her wrist. It shimmered silver in the light.
Stella grabbed her hand. “Holy holly.” Their eyes met. “Robyn’s going to kill you.”
Ginger’s mouth had gone dry, keeping her from replying.
For generations, Santa and his missus had had one child, a male, who took over the Christmas operation at age thirty. Imagine the surprise when Robyn—a girl!—was born, and the unprecedented surprise when Lux—a second girl!—came along. By the time Ginger burst onto the scene, all bets were off, and her parents had accepted that life at the North Pole and Christmas Magic were changing. For obvious reasons, they homeschooled their girls. At age eighteen, they were off to college, each choosing a different focus of study. Once they had their degrees, they came home and took their place in the Christmas process.
Despite all the changes, the family believed Robyn would be chosen to take up the role of Santa when she came of age—in less than six months. Christmas Magic had different ideas, evident by the mark on Ginger’s arm that matched the one of her dad’s wrist. Oh, and her grandpa’s wrist. And her great-grandpa’s …
Stella’s grip tightened. “We
’ve got tell Dad.”
“No.” Ginger yanked her hand away and held her arm to her chest. “Are you crazy? Dad’s gonna freak. I’m only twenty-five!”
“What’s he going to do about it?”
Stella was right. It’s not like any of them really had a choice in this. Being born into the Kringle family came with a host of blessings and a sleigh-load of responsibility. Christmas was their destiny. Becoming Santa wasn’t supposed to be Ginger’s destiny—the honor should have fallen to Robyn, who was almost thirty, dating a sweet guy from Philadelphia, and ready to settle down. Not to Ginger, who was too young, single as could be, and planning her next vacation to Mexico. “He’ll feed me to a polar bear.”
Stella shook her head. “Give the guy a little credit.”
“Fine, you tell him about your online cowboy, and then I’ll show him this.” She waved her tinsel tattoo in front of Stella’s face.
Stella shoved her arm away. “Leave Mitch out of this.”
Ginger grinned. “Mitch, eh?”
“I swear, Ginger …”
Pressing her lips tightly together, Ginger contemplated her sister. She’d spiked her short hair today, just to show a little attitude. She had large, sparkling brown eyes with ebony flecks. Regular ice-climbing trips kept them both in excellent shape, and Stella looked good in the khaki hiking pants and tight red sweater. “Why are you online dating, anyway?” Whenever they took forays into the outside world, men flocked to Stella. She flirted and sometimes kissed, and then left them behind without a backward glance.
“I want what Mom and Dad have, okay?” Stella fidgeted with her Bluetooth. “It’s lonely here.”
“You’re only twenty-three,” Ginger began, wanting to list the reasons Stella was not ready for a lifetime commitment.
Most of those reasons were the same things she told herself. At twenty-five, she was well aware of her innocence in the ways of the world. Movies and television were fictionalized versions of life, and while their home was a place of peace and happiness, she couldn’t believe that bringing an outsider to the North Pole wouldn’t upset her fairy-tale life. Besides, her time away at school had shown her that her family life was pretty much the ideal. There was a lot of pain and heartache out there in the world.