by Cynthia Eden
Everyone in town thinks that Jemma White is as sweet as the delicious treats she makes at her chocolate shop—but they’re wrong. Jemma is ready to let her wild side out, and she’s just found the perfect man to make all of her fantasies come true. Grayson Cole is a too-sexy-to-be-true stranger who has escaped to Holly for the holidays. He is her perfect temptation, and Jemma can’t wait to steam up the cold winter nights with him. But when danger from Grayson’s past follows him to town, she realizes that the man she is falling for has been keeping some very dark secrets…secrets that may just get them both killed.
By Cynthia Eden
This book is a work of fiction. Any similarities to real people, places, or events are not intentional and are purely the result of coincidence. The characters, places, and events in this story are fictional.
Copyright ©2015 by Cindy Roussos
Copy-editing by: JRT Editing
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Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
They Spy Who Came For Christmas
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Author’s Note
About The Author
Chapter One
Jemma White was dead tired, and all she wanted was to go home, take off her shoes, flop on the couch and bliss out as she watched the eternal holiday classic, National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation.
She was shutting down her shop, humming along to Jingle Bells as the tune played over the speaker, and maybe she was nibbling a bit on some left-over chocolate when the front door opened. The bell over the door jingled lightly, and she sighed. “I’m sorry, but we’re—” Jemma’s words stumbled to a halt when she made eye contact with her last minute customer. And she just…stared.
Stared at the seriously drop-dead gorgeous man who’d just come into her shop. Tall, dark, and…Oh, wow. His golden eyes glinted at her, and his hair—nearly jet black—was swept back from his high forehead. He wore a heavy coat, but there was no missing his wide shoulders and the guy had to be at least six foot two, maybe three.
He had high cheekbones. A long, hawkish blade of a nose, and…was that a scar, sliding across his lower lip? It was. An oddly sexy scar.
“Are you closed?” His voice was a deep rumble, and it made her shiver.
Jemma, get a grip, woman! She got a grip, fast, but realized she’d just been staring at the guy, rather foolishly, for way too long. “No,” Jemma said quickly. “Um, I’m not closed at all.” Such a lie.
But the stranger didn’t advance into her chocolate shop. He just stood right there, wearing all black, looking dangerous and sexy.
He inhaled on a deep breath. “You know, this place smells like heaven.”
Her smile came, quick and fast. “Thank you.”
He still wasn’t advancing. And he wasn’t looking at the chocolates on display. He was looking at her.
Her, in her reindeer apron. Her, with her hair pulled back in a crazy twist—loose tendrils were tickling her cheeks. Her…probably looking pretty wrecked because she’d been running the chocolate shop since four a.m. that morning.
Jemma squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. “May I help you?” She motioned toward the chocolates in front of her. “The chocolate truffles are big sellers, and um,” Jemma cleared her throat as tried to be professional and not all weirdly giddy. He may just be the sexiest man I’ve ever seen. “The Amaretto Chocolate Swirl fudge is another favorite, too.”
He stepped toward her.
Jemma tensed. She hadn’t meant to tense but…
He’s sexy as sin, but I’m alone in the shop. And I don’t know him.
She usually didn’t know her customers—Holly, North Carolina, was a big tourist town, especially at this time of the year. There were just a few days left until Christmas and for anyone wanting to get some serious holiday cheer going on—Holly was the place to be.
Holly was a full Christmas town—twenty-four hours a day, three hundred and sixty-five days a year. The cobblestone streets were filled with whimsical decorations, and the cast iron street lamps that lined Main Street all boasted beautiful garlands and fresh pine wreaths.
“I’ll take both,” he said, voice even deeper than before.
“B-both?” Oh, crap, she was stuttering. Figured.
“The fudge and the truffles.” And he took another step toward her. His head cocked as he studied her, and for a second, she pretty much got lost in his stare. Golden eyes. Insanely deep and beautiful eyes.
Her fingers fumbled a bit as she got his order ready. Jingle Bells stopped playing, and Elvis came on the speaker, singing about his Blue Christmas. She rang up Tall, Dark, and Sexy’s order, took his cash, and when she gave him the bag of chocolates, their fingers brushed.
That simple, little touch electrified her entire body. She stilled at the touch, certain that her eyes had gone wide, and she stared up at him.
Don’t even think it, Jemma.
But she was thinking it. Thinking all kinds of things, about this sexy stranger. Slowly, she pulled her fingers back. They were still tingling. “Are you…in town with your family?” Not a wife, not a wife, not a wife. That little mantra blasted through her head even as she did a quick glance toward his left hand.
No ring.
“I’m here by myself.”
“Oh, that’s great.”
He frowned.
“I mean…” She gave him her biggest, brightest smile. “It’s great that you’re in Holly for the holidays. This is the perfect place to be for Christmas.”
He glanced over his shoulder, seeming to peer out the big, glass windows that lined the front of her shop. “So I hear.” But he didn’t exactly sound thrilled by that.
Her brow furrowed. Don’t be married and don’t be a Grinch. She needed him to meet those two important requirements.
He looked back at her. “I’m guessing you love this whole deal?”
Deal? She blinked and some of the warmth she’d felt toward the stranger faded. When it came to her town, she was highly protective. “I love Holly.” The town was her refuge, always had been. “The people here…all they want to do is create a little magic. Don’t you think the world could use more of that?”
His head inclined toward her. “You’re right. Guess I forgot magic was supposed to exist.”
Now she laughed, ready to forgive him. “We can make our own magic. In Holly, that’s sort of our thing.” And then Jemma grabbed her courage and offered her hand to him. “I’m Jemma White.”
He put the bag of chocolate down on her counter and his fingers reached for hers. His hand pretty much swallowed hers, and she felt the slightly rough rasp of his calluses against her skin. “Grayson Cole.” He didn’t let her hand go.
Her heartbeat was doing a double-time rhythm. What are you doing, Jemma? “It’s nice to meet you, Grayson. I hope you enjoy your stay here.”
He was still holding her hand. Still staring at her but…his gaze was warming. Heating? She swallowed. Twice. Out of your league. He is so—
“Something tells me I’ll enjoy Holly one hell of a lot more than I realized,” he murmured. He let her hand go.
Her fingers were doing that tingling thing again.
“How long are you here?” Jemma blurted.
He smiled at her. Okay, that scar on his lip—it was way sexy. Crazy sexy. Jemma blew out a long, slow breath.
“I leave the day after Christmas.”
In town jus
t for a few days. A handsome, sexy stranger. Someone who made her actually…
Want. Need.
“Thanks for the chocolate, Jemma.”
She liked the way he said her name. All deep and dark.
You are so welcome. Wait—had she said that part aloud?
He turned and headed for the door. She gripped the counter. Hard. Do something! Call out to him! Ask him out! Something!
But she didn’t say a word. None of her friends would have been surprised. After all…Jemma is the good one. How many times had she heard that refrain? The good girl, the one who played by the rules. The one who never took chances.
Because she had taken a chance once…and the results had been the stuff of nightmares.
So she didn’t call out to him. Didn’t stop the sexy stranger as he walked out of her shop. The bell above her door gave a light, happy little peal of sound as he exited her chocolate shop.
And just like that…he was gone.
“Story of my life,” Jemma muttered. She made her way to the front of the shop and flipped around the sign so anyone else coming by would see that the place was CLOSED. Then she took off her apron and hung it up. Her right hand flexed a bit as she walked, and she knew it was mooning over a guy she’d never see again. That was desperate.
But then…wasn’t that her story? Good girl Jemma…she never did anything wild or risky. She always played by the rules. She went out on the occasional date—but was always home by nine.
And never went out on second dates because I froze out those guys.
Yeah, she knew exactly what she did. And she even knew why. What she didn’t get…well, was why she’d been so attracted to the golden-eyed man.
She turned off the music and shuffled to the back of the shop. Her fingers flipped the lights off—
And the bell over her door jingled. She’d flipped the sign to CLOSED but hadn’t locked the door. I was distracted. I should have locked that door!
She whipped back around, her heart racing. It was dark and she saw a shadow at the entrance to her shop—a shadow that appeared muscled, too strong—
“Jemma.”
Her breath whooshed out at the familiar voice. She flipped the lights right back on and saw the gleaming star on Sheriff Brad Fenton’s chest. He stood in her doorway, his hands on his hips.
“Brad, you scared the hell out of me!” She’d known Brad most of her life. Been teased by him as a kid, even briefly—ever so briefly—dated him in high school. Now he was in the friend zone, and they were both very, very good with that situation.
“Sorry, Jemma!” Brad said immediately, putting his hands up. “You know I’d never mean to do that.” His voice was gentle, soothing.
Did he know what had happened to her years before? Sometimes, she wondered if he did because Brad always seemed to be extra careful with her.
She licked her lips. “What can I do for you?”
“I was…supposed to meet an old friend here. Told him to come by, but I was running late. Got held up.” He raked a hand through his hair. “I’m sure I’ll find—”
“Grayson? Grayson Cole, is he your friend?”
Brad’s eyes narrowed.
“He was just in here,” Jemma said quickly. If Grayson is Brad’s friend, then that means he’s a good guy. Not like the sheriff would be friends with a criminal, right?
“Where is he now?” Brad asked. And he looked behind her suspiciously. What? Like she’d have hidden the guy behind her?
“He left a few moments ago.” Left when she should have seized the moment and asked the guy out. Why was she still letting fear control her? How long could she keep letting life pass her by?
Brad advanced, slowly, carefully. Always the way he is with me. “About Gray…” he began, looking all kinds of awkward. “He’s probably not the…the type for you.”
Had she said he was? Or, oh, jeez, had her expression given her away?
“Gray is…”
The bell jingled again. And, just like that, Grayson was back. Standing in the doorway. Staring at her. He was taller than Brad and while the sheriff might like lifting his weights, Grayson was just…
Yum.
“Jemma White, do you want to have dinner with me?” Grayson said, completely ignoring the sheriff.
Brad shook his head. Hard.
And Jemma smiled as she said, “Yes.”
He’s Brad’s friend. He’s safe. And maybe…maybe I’m tired of being so good all the time. This stranger was the perfect man to help her wild side come out, she could feel it.
***
“What in the hell are you doing?” Brad Fenton demanded as he pulled Grayson right out of the cheerful shop with the letters Holly Jolly Chocolatier sliding across the windows. “You can’t go out with Jemma!”
Grayson raised a brow as he studied the other man. He and Brad went back—back to a time he knew Brad would prefer to forget. But their bond had been forged in blood and battle, and when he’d needed a safe place to crash, well, Grayson had thought of Brad…and of Holly.
It’s like something out of a dream, man. Those had been Brad’s words, so long ago. If you ever want to escape blood and hell and fury…come to Holly. There’s no safer place.
Grayson was in the mood to escape, so he’d tracked down the little town…and his old friend. A guy who was now the sheriff? His gaze slid to the gleaming badge on Brad’s chest. What was up with that shit?
“Gray? Gray? Did you hear what I said? You can’t go out with Jemma.” Brad crossed his arms over his chest. “Bad idea. Really bad.”
Grayson thought it was one damn stellar idea. The woman had been pure sex appeal, with her dark, thick hair sliding down to tease her high cheekbones. Her bright blues eyes had gleamed and that apron of hers hadn’t been able to hide Jemma’s lush curves. Curves he’d sure love to explore…with his hands. With his mouth. “You interested in her?’ Grayson heard himself ask. Maybe he held his breath while he waited for Brad’s response.
And maybe he wondered if he’d be punching the sheriff in the next five seconds. Because the idea of Brad and the lovely Jemma…
No. I want her.
How long had it been since he’d been able to have something—someone—for himself? He’d been in one hell-hole after another for more years than he could count. He’d been a dozen different people—all roles that he’d had to play in order to protect his country. He’d done his job. He’d nearly lost his soul. But today, for the first time in fucking forever, he’d looked up—
And wanted.
He’d stood in that doorway and gotten lost in a pair of beautiful blue eyes. Eyes that were innocent and sweet, and he hadn’t been able to think of a single coherent thought beyond…
I want.
I want her.
“Am I interested in Jemma? Jemma isn’t interested in anyone,” Brad said, sounding a bit confused.
Grayson grunted. “She’s interested in me. We’re going out for dinner.”
Brad rolled his eyes. “I was there for that part, dumbass. And, no, you cannot go out for dinner. You need to stay away from Jemma.”
Not happening. “You’re the one who told me to come to the chocolate shop.”
“Because I know you like chocolate! Shit, because I like chocolate, too and I wanted some. It seemed like a good place to meet up once I found out you’d arrived in town.”
Grayson’s gaze slid toward the darkened windows of the shop. “I do like chocolate,” he murmured. But I think I’ll like sweet Jemma more.
“Gray…” A warning edge had entered Brad’s voice. “Jemma isn’t the kind of woman you play around with, got it?”
Grayson heard a door slam. The sound had come from the back of the shop. Then he strained and made out the soft sounds of Jemma’s footsteps, moving closer. He locked his gaze on Brad. “Who said I was playing?”
Brad’s expression hardened. “There are things you don’t know…”
“Grayson?”
Oh, but he liked
the way Jemma said his name. All husky, a little breathless, and sure sexy as all get out. He turned toward her and just…stopped.
A street lamp was behind her. An old-fashioned, wrought-iron lamp with a big, merry wreath hanging from it. The light shone down onto Jemma, making her look like some kind of angel. She’d taken down her hair and it tumbled over her shoulders. That heavy mane made her eyes look bigger, bluer.
I am in trouble.
“Do not hurt her,” Brad whispered to him.
Hurting Jemma White was the last thing on his mind.
Chapter Two
“Why are people staring at us?” Grayson asked as he glanced around the restaurant.
Jemma could feel the stares, but she’d been ignoring them. I should not have picked the one restaurant in town that most of the locals visit. But it was the place with the best food so…
“Jemma?”
She peered over her menu so that she could see him. And, wow, yeah, he was still as hot as before. He’d taken off his thick coat and the sweatshirt he wore stretched across his wide shoulders. Very wide. Had he played football back in the day?
“Is there a reason so many people are frowning at me? Not just people…the men,” he clarified. “Men are glaring.”
“Um, no clue.” And she was sure he was wrong. No one was glaring. She risked a quick glance around the restaurant. Yes, people were staring. How embarrassing. So she hadn’t gone on a date in… um, a very long time. Did that mean everyone had to make such a big deal about her being out with a handsome man? Small towns, jeez. Her cheeks burned. “Want to get out of here? I actually know another really great place to eat and we’d be guaranteed privacy there.”
Grayson blinked. “You sure? I mean, I’m fine with staying.”
She wasn’t. Jemma hated being gossiped about and, even worse, she’d just caught sight of Matthew Vail, a guy she’d gone out with—once—last year. He’d been her last date. And he was currently heading toward them with narrowed eyes.
“I’m totally sure.” Jemma leapt to her feet and grabbed Grayson’s hand. “Let’s go—”