Christmas Is for Lovers: 6 Hot Holiday Romances

by Box Set

  Trish only had a few seconds for sudden relief to flood her body before the criminal grabbed her wrist again, whirling her around and pressing her back against his chest. He slid the blade in close against her neck. The cold steel pressed into her throat, and Trish scarcely dared breathe.

  “This is none of your business,” the crook yelled.

  A man wearing a black trench coat and holding a gun walked steadily toward them. That explained why she’d become a human shield instead of an object for the disgusting pig to rape.

  “Give me the necklace,” the robber hissed into her ear, releasing her arm but keeping his blade in place.

  Trish tried not to cry out when the metal slipped inward and pierced her skin. A trickle of liquid warmth oozed down her neck and into her cleavage, but Trish was certain things could get a lot worse. Her hands trembled, but she had to do what the robber demanded. Trench Coat was too far away to help if the crook decided to slit her throat. Besides, what could her would-be hero do? His gun was useless with her in the way.

  Though it broke her heart, she unfastened the clasp and pulled the diamonds off, holding the necklace over her shoulder.

  He snatched it from her fingers. “I don’t have time for the earrings, but this will do.”

  Giving a tremendous punch to her back, the man shoved her to the ground.

  Unprepared for the fall, the sidewalk rushed up faster than Trish could get her hands in position. She hit her head, and her cheek scraped against the rough cement.

  The criminal’s footfalls thudded away in a swift retreat.

  Although part of her wished Trench Coat’s gun would go off, Trish knew she couldn’t expect him to shoot a fleeing man.

  A few seconds later, warm hands patted her head. “Try not to move. He hit you pretty damn hard. Bastard. I’ll call an ambulance.”

  “No, no,” Trish protested, brushing his hands away and struggling to sit upright. Dark patches blurred both eyes for a few seconds and her head throbbed in time to her heartbeat, but after a few moments things returned to normal. “I’m okay. He got away with my diamond necklace, though.”

  “You’re worried about a necklace? I thought he was going to kill you while I stood here helpless.” Her rescuer snorted as though that was the best her screwed up priorities deserved. “You sure you’re alright?”

  Trish nodded, looking up into the kindest set of dark brown eyes she’d ever seen. They narrowed with frustration as the man looked in the direction the thief had run. When he glanced back at her, the compassion returned.

  “Can you help me up?” she asked, extending her hand. She didn’t want to remain on the ground, looking like a fool. “And I need to thank you. He was going to do a lot worse than take my jewelry.”

  The man frowned, his square chin jutting more aggressively. “What was he going to do? Maybe I should have shot him anyway.”

  Trish closed her eyes and shook her head gently, relief overwhelming everything else when she thought about how close things had been. “I’ll get myself up,” she decided when the man didn’t close his hand around hers.

  She struggled to get her arm beneath her and push off the ground, although dizziness overtook her and black spots again obscured her vision.

  “Easy there, ma’am.” Strong arms closed around her, pulling her upright and tight against a firm body beneath the trench coat. “I really don’t think you should stand until a medic looks you over. Your neck’s bleeding.”

  “Probably my side too,” Trish admitted, wondering if she would ever learn to listen to other people. She should have stayed on the ground like Trench Coat suggested. The throbbing spasms in her back reminded her that the knife wasn’t the only damaging part of her encounter. He had, indeed, hit her hard. “Damn, it hurts.”

  “Here.” The man procured a tissue from a pocket in the trench coat and pressed it against her throat to stem the flow of blood. “If you’re intent on getting off the ground, we should go somewhere safe and call the cops.”

  “I feel pretty safe right here,” Trish murmured, breathing in the man’s warm scent and relaxing against the arm holding her up.

  A chuckle slipped from his thin lips and he gazed down at her, his high cheekbones and hint of stubble turning Trish’s fear into something else entirely.

  “Safe, huh?” he asked. “Not too many people would describe me in those terms.”

  “Then I’d imagine most people aren’t lucky enough to have you come to their rescue.”

  Chapter 2

  Rider Stone ran a hand through his damp hair, wishing the cops had arrived before the drizzle of rain started again.

  It didn’t seem to bother Ms. Trisha Brier, defense attorney and partner at Barker & Lutz Law. Her earlier fragility when she let him hold her after the incident was all but gone. She faced the police with an air of confidence, detailing the attack and everything she could remember.

  Rider wondered if that was how she came across in the courtroom. Confident, knowledgeable, and absolutely sexy. The blonde bombshell had legs that went for miles and the perfect amount of curves to make Rider’s blood pressure rise. Not that he should be checking her out, considering she was associated with his current investigation.

  However, if Mrs. Baker assumed her powerful, high-powered attorney husband only promoted Trisha because of her beauty and the man’s insane desire to hump everything he could, Rider had a feeling his client would be disappointed.

  From what he could tell so far, Trisha was a more-than-competent lawyer, a woman devoted to her job. She would never jeopardize that by sleeping with her boss. Not to mention, Trisha was engaged to a high-powered man in his own right. Her fiancé owned a popular sports clothing line. Rider couldn’t see what the beautiful attorney would see in a good ol’ boy and cheater like Mr. Baker.

  “So the attack didn’t happen right here, but a block away from Baker and Lutz,” the sharp-eyed female detective asked for the third time.

  Trisha sighed, obviously losing patience. “I already told you, I made Mr. Trench Coat over there help me walk past the parking garage while we waited for you because my sister and her husband would have come along any minute. They have children to get home to, and I didn’t want them knowing what happened and staying to fuss over me.”

  Rider darted under the building overhang where Trisha stood, partially protected from the drizzle. “I’m sorry I let her move, but she really didn’t want to bother her sister, and I didn’t like us being right there in case the jerk came back. Since there’s no real evidence on the scene, I figured it wouldn’t matter.”

  Trisha gave a slight nod in his direction, and Rider couldn’t help but feel warm inside. She seemed grateful that he stepped to her rescue yet again. Even if she did call him ‘Mr. Trench Coat.’

  “And you’re a private investigator?” the male detective asked, scribbling something on a notepad. “How did you happen to be on the scene at just the right moment? Do you know anything about the robber?”

  “Unfortunately, I don’t.” Rider shrugged, trying to let his true sorrow at that show through. Some of the officers around town didn’t like him, considering his private investigative practice to be an affront to their jobs. “I had parked in that garage over there while running errands this afternoon. I happened to walk by at the right time.”

  “You sure did.” Trisha folded her arms across her chest and a visible shudder ran through her. “Don’t interrogate him like he’s the criminal,” she said to the detectives. “If it wasn’t for him, you might be investigating a different crime altogether. He saved me.” She looked up at Rider from beneath long, thick lashes, suddenly seeming shyer than she had previously. “There’s no way I can repay you for stepping in. Not many people would put themselves at risk that way. Trust me, I know. I see it all the time.”

  Wondering what, exactly, the woman had been through recently, Rider’s protective instincts were once again riled. He stepped even further into the space, putting his arm around Trisha’s narrow
shoulders and pulling her against his side.

  He turned to the officers. “If you don’t have any more questions, it’s getting late and it’s freezing out here with the rain. Neither one of us have had dinner, and I’m going to buy Ms. Brier something to warm her up and then make sure she gets home okay. She can come down to the station later to sign an official statement, but for now, we’re done here.”

  She glanced upward, meeting his gaze, and her blue eyes were wide with surprise.

  It made Rider’s blood pressure rise seeing the bulky bandage on her neck that the paramedics had applied before the detectives had taken over the scene. “She’s been through enough tonight,” he finished.

  The detectives gave each other a long glance, but then the female nodded. She fished a business card from a pouch behind her badge holder and held it toward Trisha. “I need you to both call first thing Monday morning so I can have you come in. We’ll do everything we can to catch this jerk, Ms. Brier, but I have to be honest. We probably won’t recover your necklace.”

  Trisha nodded, leaning into Rider’s side, proving she wasn’t holding up as well as she wanted the detectives to believe. “I understand. It’ll be enough if you can get him off the street and save some other woman from going through this. They might not all have a hero in a trench coat come to their rescue.”

  Though shaking their heads, the detectives turned and got into their car, leaving the street empty other than Trisha and Rider.

  As soon as they left, Trisha extracted herself from his embrace, much to Rider’s disappointment. Even though he knew she was committed to another man, she’d felt nice tucked safely beneath his arm.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said, “but I didn’t catch your name. I can’t very well keep calling you Mr. Trench Coat.”

  Rider hooked a grin at her and shrugged. “I don’t know. You also called me a hero. I kind of like that.”

  She chuckled but shook her head. “Maybe a proper introduction?” She stuck out her hand. “I’m Trisha Brier, but everyone calls me Trish.”

  Gently, Rider closed his hand around hers, careful not to crush her fingers even though she had a surprisingly firm grip. “Rider Stone, but my real friends call me Trench Coat.”

  Her eyes went round for a second before narrowing into a glare. “You tease. For a second there, I thought I wasn’t the only one. Made me wonder if you never take that thing off!”

  “Oh, I can take it all off,” he said, flashing a wink. “But I’m sure a classy woman like you wouldn’t be interested in that. How about dinner instead?”

  “Dinner sounds nice, but I’m buying.”

  “No way.” Rider held his arm out, offering her to take it. “What sort of man lets the woman pay?”

  Trish’s lips twitched as though she held back a laugh while she regarded his proffered arm. “The kind who believes woman aren’t possessions?”

  “Possessions?” He barked out a laugh. “Hardly. I think women are beautiful beings, superior to men, who should be treated with the respect they deserve.”

  The lip twitching stopped and Trish rolled her eyes, though she didn’t seem particularly annoyed, more like she was trying to be annoyed. “That’s laying it on a bit thick, my friend, but I’m starving and don’t feel like going home to an empty apartment, so I won’t argue over who’s paying.”

  She took his arm and then stood by his side expectantly, not giving a preference on where she would like to go or saying anything further.

  Apparently, if he was going to act the macho man, Trish was content to let him do all the so-called manly things. That was perfectly fine with him, although he had to wonder where Trish’s hotshot boyfriend was and why she hadn’t called him down to the scene. More importantly, she’d said something about an empty apartment.

  Why wasn’t Trish Brier’s man around now when she needed him most?

  Trish sipped at the raspberry margarita Rider had ordered for her, washing down the spicy fajita dish he’d also picked at an upscale Mexican restaurant in the center of town. While she normally didn’t go for letting a man make all her decisions, tonight she’d been content to remain silent whenever Rider asked her opinion, basking in the safety she felt with him in control.

  She’d never dined at Cardina’s before, but the cheerful Mexican music coupled with the bright wood floors and colorful décor was a welcomed changed to the dreariness of the weather. Even the alcove they sat in helped her feel safe. There were walls on three sides of their table with the only opening being into the main dining room. No one could approach without them being aware of it. Well, unless they closed the colorful curtains currently draped to either side of the doorway and cut off the rest of the restaurant entirely.

  Trish couldn’t help but wonder what braver people than her did behind the closed curtain if their date became too stimulating or they drank too many margaritas.

  “Is everything to your liking?” Rider asked, although his sexy, confident grin told her he had no qualms whether it would be.

  “Delicious. I sort of expected you to take me to a fast food restaurant,” she admitted. “But this place is wonderful.”

  He chuckled. “I might be a gun-slinging, trench-coat wearing private investigator, but I’m also a foodie. One of my favorite things is trying meals I’ve never eaten before. This is my third visit here, but I’ve had my eye on those fajitas since my first time.”

  “You’re full of surprises,” Trish agreed.

  She went back to picking at her food, although it was hard not to be overwhelmed by the sheer power and confidence that radiated from Rider’s side of the table. She did her best not to dwell on her attack, but if Rider hadn’t been there to save her...

  “I don’t like that look,” Rider murmured, reaching his large hand across the table and closing it over the top of hers. “Are you thinking about that man again?”

  Trish sighed. It was hard to think of anything else. Well, except for maybe the way Rider’s large, calloused hand over the top of hers made her wonder how it would feel to have him touch other parts of her body.

  Heat flushed up her neck and crept over her cheeks. Trish pulled her hand from beneath Rider’s, forcing herself to make eye contact. “I was thinking about you, actually.”

  “And looking worried?” His eyebrows rose upward, but he simply stared, waiting for her to continue.

  Maybe now wasn’t the time to be coy. She’d gone through a lot lately, and being with a handsome man like Rider could be dangerous. “I’ve recently gone through a messy breakup after dating the same man for three years. You’re extremely attractive, and you just rescued me from horrors I can’t even handle thinking about.”

  He tilted his head, and his brown eyes took on a glint of hardness that pinned her to her chair. “A breakup?”

  “Surprising, I know. Who would pass up a catch like this?” She spread her arms wide on either side, forcing a grin and hoping Rider would dial back the sudden intensity.

  Instead, he stood abruptly, yanking the curtain doors from their pegs and swishing them shut, enclosing them in the suddenly small-seeming space.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, offering her first protest of the night.

  Ignoring her, Rider scooted his chair from across the table until it sat adjacent to hers, plopping back into it. He leaned in close, and Trish wondered if there was enough air in the space for her to survive with his breath caressing her while he continued his stern gaze.

  Trish attempted to scramble away, pushing her feet against the hardwood flooring, but her chair butted against the wall behind her after hardly moving. “Rider, I don’t know what you’re doing, but you’re scaring me.”

  Perhaps the high pitch of her squeaking voice finally broke through to him, because Rider leaned away and let out a long puff of breath. He ran a hand across his chin, shaking his head. “I wasn’t trying to scare you. I just wanted to be here for you, in case you needed to talk and didn’t want others overhearing. Why does your break u
p with your boyfriend make you worried about me?”

  So he hadn’t forgotten about that through his scary intensity.

  Trish folded her hands across her lap, not moving her chair back to the table. “You’re incredibly attractive, and I’m particularly vulnerable tonight. That’s not a state I often find myself in.” He needed to know that, just in case he figured her for one of those needy females who threw themselves at the first man to walk by. “I could see myself doing something stupid with you, like inviting you back to my place.”

  A slow grin spread across Rider’s face, highlighting his cheekbones. If the man didn’t go around with a gun and a trench coat, he could certainly pass for a model with those high cheekbones, dark eyes, and oh-so-kissable lips. Or maybe he could be an exotic dancer with the rocking body he’d revealed after removing the coat.

  Trish gulped, trying to remind herself that just seconds before, his scrutiny had frightened her. She wouldn’t want to have a fling with a man that intense, no matter how long it had been since she’d enjoyed male company.

  “Why do men cheat?” she blurted.

  Rider’s smile faded, and his eyebrows narrowed. “If you invited me back to your place, I assure you I wouldn’t be cheating on anyone. Is that what you’re afraid of? I’m a monogamous type of guy if in a relationship, but I’m single now. I wouldn’t refuse the offer to warm your bed but there wouldn’t be any cheating involved.”

  Knowing he felt the same attraction made Trish more concerned about her ability to say goodnight to Rider after dinner instead of taking him home. Then again, thinking about David could certainly turn off any passionate feelings she had.

  “I didn’t mean I thought you were a cheater,” she clarified.

  “Ah.” He nodded. “So that’s what happened with your ex.”

  “We were supposed to get married in a little over two weeks from today.” She sighed and reached for her glass, sipping more of the sweet wine. “I thought we headed for wedded bliss. Boy was the joke on me! I surprised him at work and found him with his assistant bent over his desk, doing it doggie style.”