by Leslie Kelly
Until that moment, he’d put the nightmare out of his head. But now he realized that would never be completely possible. “It was,” he said. “But I’m trying to focus on other things now.”
“That’s a good philosophy,” she said with an encouraging smile. “What’s your next project?”
If only she knew, he thought to himself. Screw filmmaking; his mind was occupied with plans for a full-on seduction. “I’m considering my options,” he said.
“I have an option for you,” Marlie said.
Unless it had to do with tearing her clothes off and having at it right here in the pub, Dex really wasn’t interested. But he had the luxury to take things slow. “I don’t want to talk about work,” he countered. “Let’s talk about what you’re doing tomorrow. The term doesn’t start until after the New Year. Are you going back to the States for Christmas? What about your family? Don’t they celebrate together?”
“They do. But I’m usually working and can’t get away and I—”
“You work over Christmas in the States?” he asked. “You don’t have a school holiday?”
She looked at him, her eyes wide, then cleared her throat. “I’m not a teacher,” she said. “And I’m not interested in renting your cottage, although is a very nice place.”
Dex stared at her for a long moment, taking in the look of confusion—no, desperation—on her pretty face. “I don’t get it,” he said.
“My name is Marlena Jenner and I’m working on a documentary film about Aileen Quinn. I’ve been trying to track you down through your agent, and when he wasn’t getting any response, I decided to take matters into my own hands. Your sister, Claire, said—”
“Marlena. Right. You’re the not the teacher.” Dex quickly stood. She’d been playing him. He bit back a curse. He’d told both his agent and his sister that he wasn’t even going to think about work for at least another year. He needed a damn break, and he didn’t appreciate that his sister had sent this woman to try to change his mind.
“You know, I’m really not interested,” he said.
“But you haven’t heard about the project yet,” Marlie said, following him to the door. “I’m sure once you—”
He spun around to face her, his anger bubbling over. “Listen to me,” he said. “I’m not interested.” He shook his head, then walked back to the bar and tossed enough money on the polished surface to cover their drinks.
What the hell was happening to him? He could usually read people better than this. He should have seen that she had some ulterior motive. But the moment he set eyes on her, all he could think about was getting her into bed. Not that that feeling wasn’t still with him. But no-strings sex didn’t work unless they were both interested in the same outcome—pure lust and mutual sexual satisfaction. She was just playing along until she could pitch him her idea.
He strode outside, Marlie hard on his heels. “Wait,” she said. “Just give me a chance to explain.”
He yanked the passenger door open. “Get in. I’ll take you back.”
“No,” Marlie said.
Dex gasped. Was she really going to draw a line? He couldn’t exactly leave her standing in the middle of the road. It was at least a fifteen-minute walk in the cold, windy night to get back to her car. And he wasn’t the type of guy who’d leave a woman stranded.
Dex slammed the door. “All right. If you want to pitch your project, go ahead. Right now.”
Jaysus, she was beautiful. Her color was high and her green eyes bright. And her hair whipped around her face in windblown strands. He wanted to reach out and grab her, twist his fingers through the thick mass of waves and pull her into a very long kiss.
She shifted nervously, then stared down at her toes. “I left my laptop in my car. The pitch is better with visuals. I have a whole presentation made up.”
With a low chuckle, he pulled the door open again. “Let’s go, then.”
Reluctantly, she got inside. When he joined her, she turned in her seat and faced him. “I didn’t mean to mislead you. I just thought if you got to know me, you might trust me a little more.”
“Oh, sure. Lying is always the best way to get a bloke to trust you.”
“Can we just start over?” Marlie asked. She held out her hand. “Hi, I’m Marlena Jenner. I’m a producer at Back Bay Productions in Boston. I’d like to talk to you about making a documentary about the Irish author Aileen Quinn.” When he didn’t reciprocate, she wiggled her fingers. “Come on. It goes both ways.”
Dex laughed and took her hand. “Really? And what did I do to mislead you?” She opened her mouth, then snapped it shut, yanking her fingers away. Dex gave her a dubious look. “What?”
“You wanted to kiss me,” she said, tipping her chin up defiantly.
“I did not.” God, was he that transparent? Usually he was much more discreet about his desires. “Where did you get that idea?”
“I can just tell,” she said.
“Oh, really. How? From your vast knowledge about men? Irish men, in particular?”
She sat back in the seat and crossed her arms over her chest. “You don’t know anything about me,” she said.
“And you know next to nothing about me,” he countered.
“I know what you want.”
“Prove it.”
What happened next happened so quickly that Dex wasn’t able to stop it. In one quick movement, she leaned over, grabbed his face between her hands and kissed him. At first, he wasn’t sure what to do, but then he took advantage of the invitation and slipped his hands around her waist, pulling her closer.
Her lips parted slightly and he slipped his tongue into the sweet warmth of her mouth. When a tiny sigh slipped from her throat, Dex took it as another invitation and dragged her body on top of his until he could run his hands over her backside. His pulse pounded, the warmth of desire pumping through his body.
The kiss ended as quickly as it began when Marlie drew back and looked at him with a wide-eyed gaze. “I—I think I’ve made my point.” She scrambled over to her side of the SUV and quickly fastened her seat belt. “We can go now,” she murmured.
“Bloody hell, you must really want me to do this project.”
“I do,” she said. “It’s imperative.”
“Imperative?”
“Yes, no one else could do it like you could.” She drew a sharp breath. “I mean the documentary,” she quickly added. “Not the kiss.” Marlie cleared her throat. “But the kiss was good, too.”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought you meant.” He started the truck, his heart slamming in his chest. He’d never reacted so strongly to a simple kiss.
“Just so you know, that’s not usually part of my pitch. Nothing is going quite the way I intended.”
“Will there be more kissing involved, or is it all business from here on out?”
“Would kissing you make you more inclined to take the job?” she asked.
“Probably not,” he replied.
“Then I suppose that’s the last time I’m going to kiss you.”
“Good,” he said, throwing the truck into gear and pulling out onto the road.
Though Marlie Jenner would provide the perfect distraction from all the pain he’d experienced in the past eight months, he wasn’t about to use her just to satisfy his own lust. He wasn’t ready to work again, and nothing she offered him, even a few enjoyable kisses, was going to change his mind. Once he got her back to the cottage, he’d sen
d her on her way.
Copyright © 2013 by Peggy A. Hoffmann
ISBN-13: 9781460322628
A SOLDIER’S CHRISTMAS
Copyright © 2013 by Harlequin Books S.A.
The publisher acknowledges the copyright holder of the individual works as follows:
I’LL BE HOME FOR CHRISTMAS
Copyright © 2013 by Leslie Kelly
PRESENTS UNDER THE TREE
Copyright © 2013 by Joanne Rock
IF ONLY IN MY DREAMS
Copyright © 2013 by Karen Foley
All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
® and ™ are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.
www.Harlequin.com