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eXtasy eBooks
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Copyright ©2009 by Tierney O'Malley
First published in eXtasy Books, 2009
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CONTENTS
Wicked Night Before Christmas
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
About the Author
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He tried to make her his..
Lucas McLeod fell in love with his sister's best friend who enjoys bantering with him. He is fighting the urge, the temptation to cross the fine line between friendship and lovers. But Lucas lost. When he succumbs to passion and makes love with her, he knows she is the one he wants to grow old with. Before he leaves for Florida, he gives her his promise. He will be back.
She tried to ignore him...
Cara Saint Regis is devastated when Lucas, her best friend's brother and the man she believes will come back for her, arrives in the cabin with his high school sweetheart instead. Worse, she catches them French kissing. A few days before Christmas, Cara's heartache turns into a blinding jealousy and anger—but deep inside her heart, her love and desire remains strong and true.
Will love, passion, and the spirit of holidays help them reunite in time to celebrate Christmas?
Being around Cara is a test. Her nearness inflames his desire. Their closeness reminds him of what he's been missing—her touch, smile, and her kisses. He misses her. Lucas wonders if his burning need to be with her again can wait until Christmas eve to answer the wish she wrote on the paper and hung on the Christmas tree—a wicked night before Christmas.
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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Wicked Night Before Christmas
Copyright (C) 2009 Tierney O'Malley
ISBN: 978-1-55487-442-2
Cover art by Angela Waters
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.
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Wicked Night Before Christmas
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By
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Tierney O'Malley
[Back to Table of Contents]
Dedication
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For Tom, Francesca, and Genevieve...my inspirations, my bright stars
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter One
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Oh, yeah. Eat my snow dust!
For the first time, Cara St. Regis took the lead. She glanced back to check on Amy. Her friend was still a couple yards behind. Feeling victorious, she squared her shoulders and faced the bottom of the hill.
Downhill skiing wasn't her favorite activity. But the rush, challenges, cold air biting her exposed cheeks, concentration and butterflies in her stomach helped her forget Amy's brother, Lucas. He had opted to stay with his ex-high school sweetheart, Rochelle, at the Mongolian Restaurant, who wrapped her arms around him like a barnacle on a wet rock, batted her lashes and pouted her lips. In a annoying tone that sounded like a spoiled annoying brat, Rochelle whined she didn't want her two hundred fifty dollar Ugg Gissella Espresso to get wet. Most likely they just want to ogle each other, exchange memories and create more to come. Like French kissing in the restaurant. They'd been lip-locked since they had arrived in the morning so what would stop them from doing it in a restaurant.
Just like Seattle's unpredictable, ever-changing weather, the thought soured her already curdled mood and quickly changed it to anger. Her agitation contrasted that of the serene view of the mountains.
Earlier, Amy whispered that Rochelle and Lucas were only friends now. Friend. Yeah right. Some friend she is. She wouldn't French kiss and share saliva with Lucas unless something beyond friendship was going on between them.
And dratted Lucas obviously enjoyed the kiss. He just smiled and kept his hold on Rochelle's hips. She bet he had a hard-on for that more than friendly kiss. If they were that noxiously sweet with each other in front of people, she couldn't imagine what they'd been doing while in Florida.
Tiny, painful pricks, like getting stuck in a blackberry bush, jabbed her jealous heart. Chest hurting from the painful scene she had witnessed, Cara planted her pole forcefully into the thick snow then pushed hard. She picked up speed and for a few seconds felt airborne. Powdered snow sprayed and spattered her goggles, obstructing her view. Visibility became low, but she didn't care.
Stop, damn it! It was stupid to care about what those two were doing anyway. So what if they were exchanging saliva and bodily functions? Lucas wasn't hers. He was free to do his own bidding, sleep with anyone, French kiss anyone.
She had shared a night with Lucas. That night had been wonderful, but it had been just that. One night together. A result of drinking large cups of Margaritas on her part and single malt Scotch on his. Cara wondered if her inexperience in bed had turned him off. Maybe he liked the kind who knew how to suck tongue and maybe dick, too, like Rochelle.
A gossip magazine had printed a snippet about Rochelle sleeping around to get what she wanted, including her beauty queen crown, and something about diet pills. She could believe the diet pills part. The woman looked like a telephone pole with D cup bra size and hips that reminded her of the popular pop singer and dancer, Beyonce.
Cara never liked the woman not because she could be the human counterpart of Aphrodite, the Greek goddess of beauty. It was a female instinct and unspoken hate that the woman had been sending her. They'd met twice, both times she gave her a silent evil message she could only interpret as, touch Lucas, and I'll kill you, bitch.
Would Rochelle really kill her if she found out she had touched Lucas? Well, she'd be happy to know touching Lucas had resulted in their friendship going down the drain. Despite his promise that they would talk, she never heard from him again. Lucas must have regretted sleeping with her.
Uh-huh. They would talk. Bull. If Amy had not given her updates about Lucas's job with the Drug Enforcement Agency, his recent hookup with Rochelle and that they were coming here together for the holiday, she'd still be waiting for him, for his call. Lucas just went to his assignment in Florida and didn't look back.
Why? Could it be that after their first night, he saw what was in her heart, that she harbored a secret love for him, which scared the bejeezus out of him? Cara wondered if Lucas laughed behind her back for taking her on th
e floor. No. He wouldn't do that. They'd known each other for over six months. Perhaps not a very long time, but enough to know Lucas would never make fun of anyone. She had fallen for his kind and gentle nature, sense of humor, and dedication to protect not to destroy. Cara sighed. She shouldn't be mad at him because of Rochelle. The two were high school sweethearts where she was just his sister's friend stupid enough to open her legs for him.
It was all her fault. If she didn't cross the fine line that divided friendship and lovers, she wouldn't be in this awkward and unpleasant quandary. Holy Santa, one moment they were friends and then boom! Their friendship was no more because they—for some magical reason—made love.
That night, with their bodies still joined, hearts pounding like drums, he had said they would talk when he returned. She had believed his bullshit and had hung on to his words like some high school girl falling in love for the first time. Shit, at twenty-five, I'm still gullible. She had read enough romance books to know that any man would say the words, “I'll call you.” Or “We need to talk.” And even the three powerful words “I love you.” Those phrases were just bull men always said to appease the woman after sex. Kind of like a woman faking an orgasm to boost a man's ego.
And Lucas's words, as wonderful a person as he was, were a classic example of sweet talk after sex. No more, no less.
Gah! Clamping her jaws together, Cara avoided a small snow hill. Her body tilted to the left the way she did when riding a motorcycle. She was descending faster than she had ever done before. Cold wind bit her cheeks, but the exertion and angry thoughts about her own stupidity and lack of good sense kept her body warm.
She knew Lucas came back to celebrate Christmas here in Whistler with his family and Rochelle, the newly crowned Miss Washington State. So why did she say yes to Amy to come here, too?
Where was her brain and pride? She could have used different alibis—migraine, PMS, bulk orders. She didn't have to come here. Great Santa, who am I kidding? The truth of it was—no matter how hard she tried to deny it—she wanted to see Lucas with an intensity that destroyed her thinking brain cells and made her forget how awkward it would be to be near a man who took her virginity while he snuggled with his friend. Worse, her room was next to Lucas's. What was she going to do if she heard erotic sounds coming from his room? Listen and enjoy? God, this would be one hell of a Christmas holiday, Cara thought.
Irritated, she initiated a turn to avoid a jump using her pole for balance. Damn it. Skiing should keep her mind off Lucas not make her brain cogitate about the what if's and what should have beens.
Amy zoomed past her with a grin on her face. “Hey, ran out of gasoline? Come on little engine, choo-choo!"
Ah, shit. No way would she lose this time. She quickly planted her pole into the powdery snow again and let the velocity do its own work. When she spotted a jump ahead of her, she didn't avoid it, she took it.
Amy reached the bottom only a couple minutes after her, laughing with her goggles covered with snow. “You should have seen yourself. One minute you were going down so fast then slowed down. And then before I could blink, you zoomed passed me like a pro. It's as if there is some inner strength in you."
Inner anger is more like it caused by my foolishness and your brother and his super perfect girlfriend. Cara made a show of tapping her skis. “Eagerness to kick your butt is my strength."
"Well, it worked. You're really getting good at this. You flew, Cara. I've never seen you ski like that before."
"Like a pro.” She removed her goggles, tapped them on her thigh to shake off the snow then tucked them under her armpit. “Yeah, you said that already."
"More than that."
"What?"
"As if you were chasing someone or someone was chasing you. You look pissed, too. I hope not with me."
Oh dear, now her emotions showed on her face, too. She'd better put her act together and pull a happy face later. No way would she let Lucas know she was jealous of his high school sweetheart. Cara couldn't help but wish she were staying in a different cabin instead. Better yet, she shouldn't have come here. She'd rather be alone than share dinner, breakfast and lunch with Lucas. Cara looked at the restaurant where Lucas and Rochelle were probably sipping hot cocoa. Her stomach clenched at the prospect of being in the same room with him.
"Why would I be pissed at you? Besides, I am not pissed. I just didn't want to lose—again."
"You want me to believe that? I think it's either you're scowling because of my numbskull brother or you regretted breaking up with gorgeous Rick?"
Rick. Going out with Rick, the guy she met at one of the Glass Blowing conventions in Oregon, happened because of her rebellious nature. When Amy called and said Lucas hooked up with his high school sweetheart, she felt a jealousy so foreign to her that it dragged her down until she couldn't concentrate on her work anymore. She began to question Lucas's reason for leaving. That perhaps his job wasn't the only motive why he left in a hurry. That he wanted to see Rochelle, to watch her parade herself at a beauty pageant.
For days she moped, worked mindlessly for hours on end, which helped camouflage the pain and feeling that everything was wrong. But all that was temporary. When alone, nauseating despair smothered her. So when Rick called on her cellphone, she thought why suffer when she could even out the game. And so she began dating Rick.
"Rick is okay. Where did you get the idea I'm pissed because of Lucas?"
"Aside from how you keep looking at the restaurant? Well, let's see. You couldn't wait to leave the house when Rochelle and Lucas arrived. Also, every time I try to tell you something about Lucas you frown and turn bright red. And when you think no one's looking, you shoot daggers at my brother with your stormy gray-eyed gaze. Not that I mind you shooting daggers at him. I do that, too, when I'm mad at him."
"I'm not mad at him."
"Oh? You haven't seen each other for a month and today you acted as if you never knew him. He must have done something to upset you. What happened between you two?
We shared bodily fluids. “Nothing. Like you said, I didn't see him for a month. Just lost that friend connection, I guess.” Last thing she wanted to do was tell her friend, Oh, after giving me a ride home, he stayed to check out my special collection of glass vases. We thought about having coffee, but when we looked at each other coffee flew out of our minds. The staring progressed to removing clothes. And then he broke my hymen and gave me the most wonderful night I've ever had.
"Cara, I'm your friend. You can tell me. Is my brother the reason why you broke up with Rick?"
And the reason why I dated Rick. Cara dropped her lashes to hide the truth in her eyes, then took a deep breath and let out in a whoosh. She could tell Amy anything except the truth, but as perceptive as she was...everything she'd tell her would slide off her back like water on a duck's feathers if she thought of them as fabricated. Besides, it might help ease the bitter jealousy that had been weighing her down if she told someone about what and who was bothering her. And Amy would be that someone.
She broke up with Rick because deep inside—stupid as she was—there was still hope she and Lucas would continue what they had started. “Yes."
Amy squealed and clasped her hands together. “Yesss...Cara, you love my brother."
"Don't tell Lucas. Maybe by the end of this week, whatever I feel for him will go away.” She would have laughed at Amy's giddy, schoolgirl reaction if she weren't feeling like shit. “Shut up. Please Amy, don't tell him. I won't be comfortable around him anymore if he finds out.” She was already so uncomfortable around him that her stomach hurt.
"I won't tell him. Promise.” Amy made a cross sign on her chest.
"Thanks. He's still my friend and...you know. He might not enjoy his holiday vacation if...I mean—"
"I know what you mean. Man, this should be a happy moment. We should be sipping champagne not standing here with your gloomy face as if your pet rock died."
"I don't have a pet rock. And rocks don't die.
"
"I'm aware, silly. Just trying to make a jokey here to lighten up your mood. Did I tell you about the insane dream I had?"
"What dream?"
"That you and Lucas ended up together, got married, had children. I became an auntie to five kids. It was a nice dream. Wouldn't it be nice if my dream came true? We could all come here for the holidays."
"You will still become an auntie. Although, I doubt I'll be responsible for making you one."
"Since we've met six months ago, I thought you should be a permanent part of my family."
"Don't know why,” she remarked, glad at how nonchalant she sounded, although her heart fluttered at the thought of becoming a McLeod.
"Come on, silly. You're the best friend and sister I never had. When Lucas started asking about you, I thought—Yes! It's going to happen. He's really sweet and teases you all the time. Sparks flew whenever you two were together. Even when you stood apart in the same room. I'm positive he has the hots for you."
Wrong. He was hot only when I opened my legs to him. Damn margaritas. “No. He has the hots for Rochelle."
"I doubt it. Rochelle's just an old friend now. They were high school sweethearts, but Lucas grew up and moved on."
"He could have fooled me."
"Me, too.” Amy poked the snow with her pole. “Before Lucas left for Florida, he had been following the news about the Miss Washington pageant, which was normal. When Rochelle won the title, went to Florida to compete for Miss USA, which we both know she sucked in, and didn't get any of the consolation titles, Lucas went there, too. To work on a case, of course. But with him showing up here with Rochelle...I don't know."
No wonder he didn't call while he was there. “Well, it's obvious isn't it? Told you. He does not have the hots for me, but for Rochelle. Just watch the two. From a distance, I could almost feel their body heat. Hot enough to melt the snow."
"I know what you mean. Saw the French kissing this morning. Never thought bacon would taste so nasty after spending time in your stomach."
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