Hot, Sexy & Bad
Page 18
“Thank you, ladies. That may be the woman I talked to. I’ll make sure to get this phone back to her. Merry Christmas.” Drake flashed a half-hearted smile and walked from the room.
“That’s not all he’ll make sure she gets,” one of the nurses said as the others giggled.
Elle Simpson. "I'll be damned," he muttered to himself as he rolled the idea around in his mind. No wonder she didn’t want to talk business or money. She had just as much as he did and she was probably in the exact same situation as he was when it came to dating. He just couldn’t believe the stiff CEO on the cover of Business Weekly was the same woman who stripped him down and made love to him on a bench. He could still feel her, taste her, and he responded instantly to the image of her breasts bouncing as she rode him. Drake stopped at his car and it seemed as if all the worry left him. Suddenly he was smiling. He just might have found her, but he needed to dig deeper to confirm it. It just seemed too out of character for the ruthless CEO.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Drake tried to find Elle’s address while he drove to his house to meet his parents. Just like her phone, the information seemed as if it had been made purposely hard to get. Which, it probably had been. Just like his address. But it was damned inconvenient right now.
However, he had found out with a well-placed phone call to Phillip, who knew everything about everyone, that Elle wasn’t your typical woman. Her business portfolio was beyond impressive. Instead of folding when it had gotten tough, she had pulled in her family and had told them to do whatever they loved. As a result, Simpson Global had expanded in many different directions.
It was also evident that she was a mostly private person. While she attended some events and was featured in some magazines, she focused exclusively on business. Elle ferociously protected her personal life, especially after she had a very public breakup with a man when she first became CEO. According to Phillip, the man had been nothing but a corporate spy who went on a smear campaign in order to help facilitate what turned out to be a failed takeover.
Drake was impressed, though. She’d come out stronger and more respected than ever. Elle had not only prevented the takeover; she’d also managed to beat that competitor in several business deals the following year. She had made her point without ever going to the media, never complaining, never filing suit. Nope. She’d earned respect and had sent a clear message to anyone who dared to cross her again.
He knew about her business, but he really wanted to know her. Phillip had found articles where she had been awarded numerous philanthropic awards. She’d never publicized herself like the politicians, celebrities, and other CEOs who took camera crews with them to a soup kitchen. No, Elle had gone in jeans and a T-shirt and the only evidence she had spent all this time helping others was some grainy photos taken by cell phones and the awards she had been nominated for. She spent time working with underprivileged youths, women in business, children, and animals. She enjoyed sports and her family was very close, just like his.
He looked at the clock in the car and stepped on the gas pedal. His parents were already at his home. His mother was probably fretting about overcooking the Christmas Eve turkey while his father was probably sprawled out on the couch watching any football game he could find. Even though all he only wanted to do was find out if Elle was the woman he had been with, it would have to wait.
He pressed one of the buttons on his rearview mirror and the large gate blocking the entrance to his house slid open. A tall stone fence lined the street with thick trees that blocked the view of the sprawling antebellum estate from the street.
He had been comfortable in his small downtown apartment, but his mother and father had sold their house in Atlanta and had moved to the beach. They seemed to be coming home more and more frequently and staying for longer periods of time. Suddenly his apartment had seemed microscopic.
The day his mother had woken him while picking up his underwear in his room had been the last straw. He’d called a real estate agent, had given her a budget, and had told her that the house had to have a kitchen big enough for them all to gather. Dinnertime was special while growing up and that tradition had continued. He also had told her the house had to be big enough for him to hide after said dinner to avoid his mother’s constant reminder about not letting life pass him by. If the pattern of their visits continued, it would probably just get worse if he ever did get married and have kids. So, he had instructed the real estate agent to find a house with a separate guesthouse.
So far it had been working well. Both he and his parents felt independent and they weren’t tripping over each other. But tonight, the night after the ball, he was going to be grilled. No matter how large his house, there would be no escaping it.
He parked his car in the garage and made his way to the kitchen, all the while daydreaming of Elle. The smells of Christmas Eve dinner floated through the air and mixed with the smell of the fresh evergreen tree in the nearby living room. His mother, fully outfitted with her own apron, stood guard over the turkey in the oven.
“Oh thank heavens. What took you so long? The turkey was going to be overcooked if you were any later,” Penny Charles clucked as she scolded him. The turkey would be perfect. The turkey had never been overcooked. Even when he was nineteen and was two hours late arriving from college, the turkey had been perfect.
“Merry Christmas, Mom.” Drake ignored the clucking and wrapped his mother up in a hug that brought her off the ground, screaming to be put down. He’d started doing that to his mom when he hit six feet, towering almost a foot over her.
He’d inherited his height from his father, Steven, who was six-foot-one. “Son. Glad you’re home. How were the kids?”
“Great. Mary will be released in a couple weeks.”
“Oh, wonderful.” Penny pulled the turkey out of the oven and Drake almost started drooling. “Now, tell us about the ball. Was it beautiful? Was it romantic?” She clapped her hands together before pulling out a giant knife.
“It was beautiful and everyone had a great time.” Drake knew he did. He’d found Elle Simpson.
“If only you had a wife to share it with,” Penny sighed as she prepared to cut the turkey.
Drake paused and thought about the night with Elle. It had been better than any night of his life because he was with her. Sure, there was hot sex, but the laughing and talking and dancing—all things he had hated to do with women prior to last night—had been wonderful.
“You know, Mom, you may be right about that.” Drake snagged a pinch of stuffing and headed into the living room. All he heard was the clanging of the knife on the stone floor behind him and what might have been his mother fainting. But he had a very important phone call to make that couldn’t wait.
Elle fluffed her pillow and flopped back down on it with a huff. She stared at the ceiling in hopes of finally falling asleep but knew it wouldn’t happen. She was mad. She was livid. Worst of all? It was with herself.
She had fallen in love with a man, and what did she do? She ran out leaving him naked and never even remembered to ask his name. His name. She had been so naïve in thinking she could have a one-night stand with a man like him. He was tall, handsome, kind, funny . . . Elle turned over, buried her head in her pillow, and screamed.
Slowly she raised her eyes from the pillow and looked at the red numbers on the clock. It was a little before midnight and it looked like sleep would not be coming for a while. Giving up the pretense, Elle swung her feet out of bed and pulled on the red silk robe draped over the chair before heading downstairs.
A light from the kitchen spilled onto the bottom of the stairs. She heard the sink turn off and wondered who was still awake. She walked into the kitchen and saw her mom, wearing the same fuzzy robe she’d had for twenty years, drying the last of the dirty dishes.
“You know, we have a dishwasher,” Elle said as she snagged a Christmas cookie.
“And some things are done better when done by hand.” Her mother placed her trea
sured china back into the cabinet and took a seat on the stool next to Elle. “So, what has you up so late?”
Elle pushed around the cookies and found a big star. “Just a problem I don’t have the answer to and don’t think I can solve.” Her new idea was to eat all the cookies. Maybe she’d stop feeling so horrible.
“’Tis the season for miracles, sweetie. Why don’t you ask Santa for help?” Her mother stood up, grabbed a reindeer cookie, and then kissed her forehead. “It’s a couple minutes before midnight. You still have time to make that Christmas wish. Good night.”
Elle watched her mom disappear up the stairs and took another bite of her cookie. She knew her mother still saw her as a child sometimes, but making a wish to Santa Claus? Elle rolled her eyes and got a plate to put cookies on.
She made herself a cup of hot chocolate and turned off the lights. The Christmas tree cast a warm glow across the living room and sparkled on the presents beneath it. Taking the plate of cookies and her drink, she sat on the comfy overstuffed chair looking at the tree and the childhood stockings her mother still hung.
She set her cup of hot chocolate and the plate of remaining cookies by the fireplace, walked over to the window, and looked up to the stars shining in the dark night sky. “Santa, all I want for Christmas is to find the man I’ve fallen in love with.”
She closed her eyes and made a wish, too, just for extra luck. Then she quickly looked around and made sure none of her siblings were on the stairs. She felt foolish enough as it was, but she’d never hear the end of it if she were caught making a wish to Santa for a man.
Elle snapped her fingers. She got it. She’d hire a professional investigator to find Mr. Right. Feeling as if she’d done everything she could do on Christmas Eve, she headed upstairs for what little sleep she could get. She’d need it to pretend everything was all right in the morning and to settle the nervous excitement she felt. At least she had a game plan now.
CHAPTER NINE
Elle was peacefully dreaming of dancing with the black-haired, blue-eyed mystery man beneath the mistletoe when suddenly she felt as if she were falling. And not in love. She cracked her eyes and found her two sisters smiling down at her as they bounced on her bed.
It didn’t matter that Bree was thirty-one and Allegra was twenty-nine. They loved Christmas and still woke Elle every Christmas to tell her Santa had come. When they’d grown older and had discovered there was no Santa Claus, they’d stayed up late trying to catch their mother, but never could. Somehow it just added to the magic of Christmas and Elle couldn’t help but laugh now.
“I listened all night,” Allegra laughed as she bounced again on the bed. “All I heard was Elle going down around eleven-thirty, but she was back before midnight. Do you think she pulled it off again?”
“I didn’t hear Mom, either. It’s embarrassing to admit at thirty-one, but I too stayed up to listen. Shall we see if there are more presents under the tree?” Bree tried to hide her excitement but failed.
Elle grabbed her pillow and threw it at them as she leaped off the bed. “I’m gonna beat you.”
The three sisters tore out of the room and barreled over Reid as he made his way sleepily down the hall.
“I can’t believe it.” Elle slid to a stop behind Allegra and looked into the living room. The gifts had multiplied, the stockings were full, the hot chocolate had been drunk, and only crumbs were left on the cookie plate.
“She did it again. Twenty-five straight years we’ve tried to catch her and she’s eluded us every time,” Bree shook her head and went to grab a cup of coffee.
“Maybe you can’t catch her because there really is a Santa Claus,” Reid teased his sisters. They all smacked him as Bree held his cup of coffee hostage.
Elle laughed as they teased and joked with each other until their mother came downstairs, having been awoken by their noise. They all just laughed harder. Every year their mother and father had come downstairs exactly eighteen minutes after the kids ran downstairs. When Elle and her siblings were younger, they’d enjoyed those eighteen minutes of wonder by shaking gifts and trying to guess what they were. Now they just enjoyed the time with each other dropping into the habits of old and acting like those same kids again.
“Oh, it looks like Santa came last night,” Margaret said as she took her seat. “Are we going to open them?”
“Yes,” her children all screamed as they took a seat on the floor and couch. Elle and her siblings laughed. They knew they were being childish, but this was what family was about—relaxing and being silly together. They were there for each other every day with serious and pressing business matters, but today was a day to have fun.
Elle tried not to laugh as her brother opened his last gift from her. He tore into the paper and ripped off the tape on the box. He reached in and pulled out his gift.
“Fuzzy dice? Really, Elle?” Reid smiled. “They’ll look great hanging in my Aston Martin,” he said dryly.
“I thought so, too. They’ll really make your Vanquish hot.” Elle giggled as the doorbell rang.
They all looked to the door, but her mother stood and turned to Allegra. “You get the door while I start on breakfast.” Allegra jumped off the couch and disappeared into the entranceway as her mother softly hummed while walking to the kitchen.
Elle turned back toward her brother when she was hit with a pair of fuzzy dice. She promptly returned fire and then sent a wad of wrapping paper sailing through the air, hitting Bree smack in the middle of the face.
They all froze when they heard Allegra giggle from behind them. Elle’s back was to her and she flushed with having been caught acting like a kid in front of company. “There is a man here from the art museum. He’s saying something about a lost phone?”
Elle jumped up, not even worrying about her flannel pajamas with little snowmen on them. “My phone.” She turned and came face to face with a handsome man in jeans and a red button-up shirt. Normally she’d find him attractive, but she was too excited to have recovered her phone. Besides, her mind and heart remained focused on the mystery man from the party.
“Merry Christmas, Miss. Could you turn the phone on for me to show me it’s yours?” Elle eagerly grabbed the phone and entered her password. She paused as she looked at all the missed emails, feeling a slight panic that she may have missed something important.
“Nice dice you got there,” the man who delivered her phone said to Reid. Elle cocked her head. She knew that voice. Her eyes flew up and into the smiling eyes of the man she made love to the other night.
“Thanks. They’re from my sister, Elle,” Reid said with a nod to her.
“You? I was so worried I’d never see you again,” Elle said in an excited whisper as she jumped into his arms to the surprise of her siblings.
“Me, too. But I am so glad I did. I’m afraid I may never want to let you go.”
“Merry Christmas, Mr. Charles. Would you care to join us for breakfast?” her mother asked as she walked out of the kitchen with a dishtowel hanging from her shoulder.
“I would love to. Thank you. But, please call me Drake,” he said, never taking his blue eyes off Elle’s.
Elle thought her heart would explode. It was her mystery man. He was Drake Charles, the Drake Charles.
“I’m Reid. It’s nice to meet you, Drake. Mom’s told us a lot about you,” he said with a grin.
“I’ve heard about you all, too. It’s nice to meet you in person,” Drake said as he shook Reid’s hand. “Elle told me about y’all the other night. “
“You’ve been dating Drake Charles and haven’t told us?” Allegra asked in shock. “Oh,” she cringed. “Sorry, I’m her youngest sister, Allegra.”
“Nice to meet you, too.”
“And I’m Bree. Sorry, we’re all just a little surprised. We didn’t know Elle was dating anyone, let alone you.”
“It’s been a whirlwind romance,” Drake said with a smile. Oh, he looked even more amazing in jeans. How was that possible?
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“How did you know where I was?"
“Santa told me,” he said with a wink at her mother. All heads turned and looked at a very innocent-looking Margaret.
“What? I always told you I worked with Santa Claus. It’s about time you started to believe me. Come on, y’all. Help me get breakfast on the table.”
Her mother turned and headed the short distance to the kitchen with her brother and sisters slowly following as they all kept looking back and forth between her and Drake.
Drake handed Elle a rectangular red box decorated with an elaborate white bow. “I have a Christmas gift I wanted to give you.”
Elle held out her hands and smiled up at him. He was real and he was right here. He didn’t even run when he found out it was her. Instead he found out where she was and brought her a present. So it really was everything she had thought. And more.
He took a seat on the couch next to her and brushed a kiss to her cheek. “Merry Christmas. Go on, open it.”
Elle pushed off the bow. She lifted the lid to the box and looked inside. Sitting propped up among the red tissue paper was a beautiful ivory-white mask. It was simple in its style, but on the side was a cluster of small ribbon roses and a few feathers. In front of the mask sat an open velvet box with a necklace shining up at her.
Elle started to tremble as she sat quietly looking at the golden harp necklace with a diamond set at the top of the harp. Drake moved quietly and took the necklace out of the box. Taking her hands in his, he sat in front of her.
“We may have only met the other night, but that was enough to know that I have fallen in love with you. In such a short time you've already found a place in my heart. I hope the Christmas gift is okay,” he said a little unsurely after confessing his feelings.