by Diana Palmer
Her father had gone to answer the phone, a call from a business associate who wanted to wish him happy holidays, leaving Blair and Niki alone in the living room by the tree. She felt like an idiot for making the purchase.
Now Blair was opening the gift, and she ground her teeth together when he took the lid off the box and stared at it with wide, stunned eyes.
“I’m sorry,” she began self-consciously. “The sales slip is in there,” she added. “You can exchange it if…”
He looked at her. His expression stopped her tirade midsentence. “My mother was French,” he said quietly. “How did you know?”
She faltered. She couldn’t manage words. “I didn’t. It was an impulse.”
His big fingers smoothed over the tie tac. “In fact, I had one just like it that she bought me when I graduated from college.” He swallowed. Hard. “Thanks.”
“You’re very welcome.”
His dark eyes pinned hers. “Open yours now.”
She fumbled with the small box he’d had hidden in his suitcase until this morning. She tore off the ribbons and opened it. Inside was the most beautiful brooch she’d ever seen. It was a golden orchid on an ivory background. The orchid was purple with a yellow center, made of delicate amethyst and topaz and gold.
She looked at him with wide, soft eyes. “It’s so beautiful…”
He smiled with real affection. “It reminded me of you, when I saw it in the jewelry store,” he lied, because he’d had it commissioned by a noted jewelry craftsman, just for her. “Little hothouse orchid,” he teased.
She flushed. She took the delicate brooch out of its box and pinned it to the bodice of her black velvet dress. “I’ve never had anything so lovely,” she faltered. “Thank you.”
He stood up and drew her close to him. “Thank you, Niki.” He bent and started to brush her mouth with his, but forced himself to deflect the kiss to her soft cheek. “Merry Christmas.”
She felt the embrace to the nails of her toes. He smelled of expensive cologne and soap, and the feel of that powerful body so close to hers made her vibrate inside. She was flustered by the contact, and uneasy because he was married.
She laughed, moving away. “I’ll wear it to church every Sunday,” she promised without really looking at him.
He cleared his throat. The contact had affected him, too. “I’ll wear mine to board meetings, for a lucky charm,” he teased gently. “To ward off hostile takeovers.”
“I promise it will do the job,” she replied, and grinned.
Her father came back to the living room, and the sudden, tense silence was broken. Conversation turned to politics and the weather, and Niki joined in with forced cheerfulness.
But she couldn’t stop touching the orchid brooch she’d pinned to her dress.
Copyright © 2015 by Diana Palmer
ISBN: 9781460395684
CALAMITY MOM
Copyright © 1993 by Diana Palmer
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