by Debra Fisk
She dreaded speaking to Chase after the way she overreacted, but at the same time, he did overstep his bounds. They were on a mission, and after it was over, they would go their separate ways. They had to keep it clearly a business arrangement.
She picked up her cell phone and sent him a text.
Sorry about last night. Let’s start over.
Chase replied: I’m sorry too. I’ll call you in a bit.
Okay. Talk to you then.
Tossing her cell phone back down on the table, she lifted her mug to her lips and finished her coffee. Troy Hughes. Handsome, wealthy and single—why get married now? If he desired children and the whole family thing, she’d understand. However, her mother was well past those years.
Her cell phone vibrated, snapping her back to reality. On the screen was illuminated the word MOM. “Hey, I’m finishing my coffee, then I’m jumping in the shower.”
“Good morning to you, too. Honey, Aunt Fiona is meeting me for breakfast. Care to join us?”
“No, I won’t have the time. I’ll see you both at the fitting, right?” Aunt Fiona had a habit of monopolizing the conversation, and since she had missed joining them for dinner last night, they would be forced to endure a blow-by-blow replay over breakfast.
“Yes, of course, but we are going to spend some quality time together whether you like it or not,” she warned.
“I’ll see you soon. Bye!” She stood up and gave the gulf one final look before making her way inside. She showered, changed into comfortable clothes and hurried over to Barefoot Brides, arriving five minutes late.
Her mother and Aunt Fiona were having a heated discussion concerning the color of Fiona’s gown.
“Christie!” Her mother reached out and grabbed her hand, dragging her toward the mirror. “Would you please talk some sense into my sister? She insists on wearing holiday red!” her mother shrilled. “It’ll clash with my color scheme of the metals, you know, gold, silver, bronze. My sister likes to dress like she’s in her twenties.”
“Fine!” Aunt Fiona stormed into the fitting room around the corner, out of sight.
“I’m being very generous,” her mother whispered in a tone only Christie could hear. “I told her, pick any color from my color scheme, and it’s yours.” She added, “By the way, your color metal is silver.”
“Oh, okay.” Her mother led her to a gorgeous, sleeveless, asymmetrical, silver chiffon, floor-length gown. The tiered skirt and beaded strap on one shoulder gave a classic style some festive flair.
“As soon as I saw it, I knew it was perfect for you. It’s an Adriana original.”
Christie groped for the price tag. “This must cost a fortune.” Her eyes almost popped out of her head when she saw all the zeros. “Mother, this is ridiculous. The price of this gown, as incredible as it is, is crazy, especially since we’re not even sure your marriage is going to last.”
The last part slipped out. She hadn’t meant to speak her thoughts out loud for them to hear, but she didn’t regret it. Sometimes the truth hurt, and she wanted to snap her mother back into reality. This entire vacation fantasy—falling in love in two weeks—had to come to an end before it was too late.
Tight-lipped, her mother leveled her with a stare. “I’m going to ignore your rudeness. Believe it or not, Christie, I know what I’m doing.”
Aunt Fiona popped up out of nowhere behind her mother and mirrored her sister’s expression of disappointment. Facing the two older women was a tad intimidating. Dressed in a bronze-colored, age-appropriate gown, Aunt Fiona stood a head taller than her sister. “Both your mother and I became widows at a young age. Despite what you think, we can distinguish between love and infatuation. If there is one thing the two of us have learned, it’s that life is too short. We were both robbed of time with the men we loved.”
Aunt Fiona’s words made Christie regret speaking her mind. Both men had died suddenly, Christie’s father from a heart attack and Fiona’s husband in a car accident.
“I’m sorry.” She carefully reached for the hanger holding the Adriana original, taking extra care to be sure she didn’t let the ends touch the floor as she went into the fitting room to change. Could she be making a mistake?
She heard footsteps outside the changing-room door.
“Oh,” her mother said, “I forgot to tell you, tonight I expect you to join us at the Jingle Bell Ball.”
“Jingle Bell Ball?” She hadn’t heard a word about it, but then again, she had been here only a few days.
“Troy, Chase, Fiona and I are all going. There’s a tree trimming at seven during the cocktail hour, too.”
“Great,” was all she could squeak out. She hadn’t participated in anything Christmasy in a long time. She slid the gown over her head. The silky fabric glided over her body like it was made for her. She stared at herself in the mirror. Wait until Chase saw her in this! She thought about the mistletoe incident. Hot lips pressing down on hers, with his strong arms wrapped around her waist. Tonight she wanted to get Chase’s full attention at the Jingle Bell Ball. Something in black ought to do it.
Tonight, Chase Barrington would see her as desirable as Black Ice.
Chapter Six
Chase had just left Clay Walker’s office. Thanks to Troy’s recommendation, Clay and Lacey were as enthusiastic as he was to create a line of exclusive wines for Casa Blanca. Something sophisticated, upscale, with a hint of the tropics.
He couldn’t wait to tell Christie. They’d been playing phone tag all day, and it looked like they wouldn’t meet up until the Jingle Bell Ball. He’d better hurry; otherwise, he was going to be late for the tree trimming. How the heck did he get roped into these things? It sounded a bit ridiculous—the ball, a tree trimming—a lot of things he didn’t have time for. Clay and Lacey would be there, and of course, Christie, hence another reason to go.
He phoned his office to relay the details of his meeting to get the project rolling. When he had finished, he showered, changed and, in thirty minutes, was downstairs making his way through the lobby.
He stepped into the dining room where the restaurant had been transformed into a winter wonderland for the Jingle Bell Ball. He scanned the room. Bouquets of white hydrangeas were on each table, surrounded by icicle LED lights, which made the crystal stemware sparkle. Tall leafless branches had been painted white and covered with matching ice colored glitter, while faux snow filled the corners of the room. Specialized lighting illuminated the floor to look like snowflakes. White linens and chair bows accented the table settings. Ice-blue lights glowed in the room; the dim lighting set a magical mood.
His eyes locked with Christie’s. Her long blond hair was piled high on her head in a tower of curls. A few loose strands bounced as she walked over in his direction, and he began to meet her halfway. She wore a sleeveless black velvet gown that crisscrossed around her neck. An exposed lace-covered midriff caught his attention. His breath quickened, and he licked his lips. If they weren’t in a crowded room full of people, he’d kiss her as soon as she was within reach.
They met under a bouquet of mistletoe dangling in the center of the room. He looked up, and her gaze followed. “Mistletoe,” he said.
She smiled, and his heart melted. He stared into her blue eyes, trimmed with black lashes. He placed his hand on the side of her face and rubbed his thumb along her cheek. Slowly, he leaned in for a kiss. Their lips met. He found himself melting into her like there was no quarrel from the day before between them, nothing but this incredible pleasure, the pleasure he couldn’t ever remember getting out of a simple kiss. He pulled her in a little closer, and his heart pounded harder at the scent of her, sweet clean jasmine—feminine. His head was overrun with wicked thoughts involving his tongue and every part of her body. He didn’t want it to end. He craved something he hadn’t realized he needed or existed, and now that he’d found it, he didn’t want to ever let it go.
*****
One touch of Chase’s lips, and Christie became a pool of Jell-O.
Knees buckled, legs weakened, and if it wasn’t for Chase’s strong hold, she was sure she’d be lying flat on her back in the middle of the ballroom floor. She had never experienced this level of desire. Ever. Her heart raced, and she could hear the blood pounding in her ears. She was sure Chase could hear it, too. She inhaled. He smelled so good. Spicy—sandalwood blended with a fruity mixture of applewood and citrus. His scent clouded her head. Especially today, after the craziness of the wedding preparations she’d tried so hard to get out of. She could get used to this. Daily.
She placed her arms around his neck, not caring if anyone in the room was watching. Drawn draperies in the darkened restaurant, cool air and the winter wonderland made her forget they were in sunny Florida and not back home in chilly Vermont, but even in the chilled room, she could feel his body heat up. She imagined what it would be like to be lying in bed with him. She planted her hands on his chest to pry herself reluctantly away.
“Chase, people are watching,” she said as if the thought had just dawned on her.
“Let them watch,” he growled. Taking her by the hand, he led her over to a darkened corner. She caught her mother watching, following them about the room with a smile. Christie bit her lower lip. Perhaps she’d been wrong. Maybe it was possible to find the right person and in an instant, know it.
Chase had the most amazing eyes, warm and full of passion—for her.
When they’d reached the darkened area, he pulled her close, lifted her chin with his finger and smiled, “You know what this means.”
She raised her eyebrows in question.
“Something I don’t usually like to admit. I was wrong.” He placed a kiss on her forehead. “In a matter of days, I’ve fallen for you. Hard—really hard. If this isn’t love at first sight, I don’t know what is.”
Christie giggled. “I feel like such a fool. I feel the same way, and after I made a complete idiot out of myself. Criticizing my mother and Troy, projecting my fear of commitment on them—I should stay out of other people’s lives and try to manage my own.”
“Agreed.” He rubbed his hand down the length of her arm. “I am through with the breakup. Who am I to judge what Troy and Barbara feel? Besides, I’d rather focus on our future than focus on theirs.”
He placed a long, hard kiss on her lips, kiss that fulfilled the promise of their first encounter under the mistletoe, and once again, Christie could feel the magic.
Meet the Author
Debra Fisk grew up in a small town New Jersey but relocated to Central Florida because she loves the warm weather.
While working at one of her first jobs she discovered the world of romance novels and fell in love. She is the wife to a doctor and the mother of a son, two dogs, two cats and three parakeets. Her first book, Irresistibly Delicious, hit number three on the Bookstrand Bestsellers list for over 5 weeks straight.
Debra loves to connect with readers! Email her at [email protected] or find her online.
Website | Facebook | Twitter
Join Debra’s mailing list to be the first to learn about new releases, enjoy exclusive content and fun giveaways.
Books by Debra Fisk
COZY COVE SERIES
Irresistibly Delicious
Irresistibly Dangerous
BAREFOOT BAY KINDLE WORLDS
Only in Your Arms
4M RANCH SERIES
Summer Heat
SWEETHEART MYSTERY
Deadly Interest