“Please, Damien—don’t assume all the blame. I never gave any consideration to your fears. You had your own issues with your parents—you saw their love turn sour. I didn’t even think of how my bullheadedness would affect you. And to know that it made you afraid we would end up like your parents…” She sighed. “That hurts. I feel like if I had been different, we never would have broken up.”
“We were young, Kendra. That’s the bottom line. Young and innocent and in love and clueless about how to make that love work through challenges. We had a lot of growing up to do. And here we are, the two of us having reconnected after all this time. And you know why—because the one thing that didn’t change, the one thing that was solid, was our love for each other.” He extended the gift to her.
Warmth filled Kendra’s heart. She wanted to see what he’d gotten for her but not until she gave Damien her present. It would reinforce everything she had just told him.
“I have something for you, too,” she told Damien. And before he could say another word, Kendra scurried off, knowing that he was confused. She hadn’t even taken the present from him. But she wanted to give him her gift before accepting his.
Kendra walked over to the nearby Christmas tree, where she lifted a large box. She walked back to Damien and presented it to him with a huge grin.
“What is this?” he asked.
“You’ll have to open it and see. And I want you to open this gift first.”
He eyed her quizzically. “I’d actually prefer if you open mine first.”
“I know you might think I’m being stubborn again, but you really need to open my gift,” Kendra told him. “This one last time, let me get my way.”
“Okay,” Damien gave in.
Kendra’s face lit up with joy, and she led the way to the sectional. She couldn’t wait to see the look on Damien’s face when he saw her gift to him.
Damien ripped off the wrapping, excitement clearly taking hold. And then his eyes widened and his lips parted when he saw the LEGO box.
“I’m sure it’s not what you were expecting,” Kendra began. “But…I wanted you to know that I remember everything. I remember all of our conversations. I remember our deep connection. I remember how you told me your Christmas was ruined that year because your brother took your LEGO set and burned it in the fire.” Kendra offered Damien a smile. “Damien, I never forgot us. You never stopped mattering to me.”
Damien placed a gentle hand on her face. He stroked her cheek with the pad of his thumb, saying nothing as he regarded her.
“Now open yours,” he told her.
“Wait, there’s more,” Kendra told him. “In the box.”
“I opened yours. I want you to open mine.”
Kendra’s heart was beating rapidly as she stared at the small box wrapped in elegant gold foil. She could only assume that it was some sort of jewelry. Perhaps a bracelet or some other trinket.
“Okay,” she said. The suspense was killing her.
Unlike Damien had done, Kendra delicately pulled open the white ribbon, then carefully lifted the tape from the foil and removed the wrapping.
A pale blue box came into view, and her breath caught in her throat.
“Go on,” Damien told her.
Kendra lifted the lid on the Tiffany box, in which there was another, smaller box. The kind that would likely hold a ring.
She raised her eyes to his, her heart slamming into her rib cage. “Tiffany?” There wasn’t one in Louisville. “Damien…”
“I took a trip to Cincinnati to visit the store there,” he told her. “Now open it,” he urged, a smile dancing on his lips.
Kendra withdrew the smaller box, and opened it. And then she gasped when she saw what it contained.
“You may think this is too soon,” Damien explained. “But I’ll deal with a long engagement, if that’s what it takes for you to be sure. Just say that you’ll marry me.”
Tears filled Kendra’s eyes. “This is the most beautiful ring I’ve ever seen.” And it was. It was a cushion-cut diamond ring, the large stone in the middle framed by a rim of tiny ones. There were also small diamonds embedded in the band.
“Is that a yes? Or a maybe?”
“Look inside your gift,” Kendra told him.
“You’re not going to answer me first?”
“You’ll understand once you look inside the box.”
Damien rummaged around in the LEGO box, taking out some of the colorful pieces. And then he found the small box wrapped in silver.
He met Kendra’s gaze with a question in his eyes.
She beamed at him. “Open it…”
So Damien tore off the wrapping and opened up the box. Inside he found a silver locket in the shape of a heart.
“You told me that you felt I had a wall up during our relationship, that you never felt I had given you all of my heart.” Kendra paused. “So that’s what I’m doing—giving you my heart. Symbolically…and literally.”
Curling her fist around the box containing the engagement ring, Kendra moved closer to Damien. “And yes, I’ll marry you. I love you, Damien. I always have and I always will.”
“I love you, too, baby,” Damien told her, his eyes holding hers, so filled with meaning. “And this heart locket…this is the best gift.” He placed a hand on her chest, over her heart. “To know that I have your heart…” His voice trailed off, and it was filled with emotion.
“I know,” Kendra said. “I know. Because I feel the exact same way.”
“Who knew?” Damien asked. “Who knew when I saw you at the airport that this was where we’d end up?”
“Fate,” Kendra said softly. “And perhaps some Christmas magic.”
“I love you.”
And then Damien slipped his hands into her hair, urged her face close to his and kissed her. It was a kiss that proved the love of yesterday was still alive and well and that it would last a lifetime.
* * * * *
A Holiday Affair
Maureen Smith
A huge thank-you to Pamela Samuels Young,
for generously taking time out of her busy schedule to share her legal expertise with me.
Any mistakes made or liberties taken are my own.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 1
Ava Cameron wove her way through the crowded Midtown Atlanta restaurant to reach the gleaming mahogany bar near the back. Barely seconds after she’d slid onto an empty stool, the bartender materialized.
“What’s your poison, beautiful?”
Ava smiled. “A vodka martini, please.”
“Your wish is my command.”
Ava watched as the attractive bartender fixed her cocktail, then served her with a friendly wink. “Enjoy.”
“Thank you.” Wearing a tailored charcoal skirt and jacket over a blue crepe shell, Ava turned on the leather stool and crossed her legs. Sipping her drink, she glanced around the busy restaurant.
Wolf’s Soul was a world-renowned establishment made famous by owner and executive chef Michael Wolf. The excellent food and classy ambiance—combined with regular sightings of the hunky celebrity chef—made this the place to be any day of the week. Hence the crowd even on a Tuesday night.
As Ava surveyed the scene, her gaze was unerringly drawn to a table occupied by a group of men. She counted seven, and every last one of them was hot enough to set any woman’s pulse racing. So she wasn’t surprised to see their young waitress flirting shamelessly with them, while several other females looked on with hungry stares.
Taking a deep swallow of her martini, Ava turned away from the table full of eye candy. The last thing she wanted or needed was an
other man in her life.
Three weeks ago she’d been dumped by her boyfriend, Neal, who’d accused her of being more committed to her career than their relationship. Ava had been totally blindsided. Not only because he’d broken the news to her over a romantic candlelight dinner, but also because she hadn’t realized that their relationship was in trouble. Sure, working eighty hours a week had forced her to cancel more than a few dates and weekend getaways. Sure, she often brought work home, and she didn’t always know how to separate her personal life from her professional one.
But she was on track to make partner at one of the top corporate law firms in Atlanta. So sacrifices had to be made.
She’d thought Neal understood that. She’d thought he admired and respected her career ambitions. She’d thought he was with her for the long haul.
Apparently she’d thought wrong.
So there she was on a Tuesday night, sitting alone at a bar and hoping to drown her sorrows in top-shelf vodka.
She stared broodingly into her martini glass, then heaved a small sigh at the idea of returning to her silent, empty house.
She heard him before she saw him.
He had a deep, smoky drawl that conjured erotic images of glistening bare skin, tangled satin sheets and sultry Southern nights. It was a wicked voice that sent shivers down her spine and made her stomach clench.
“I’ll have the usual, Joe. Thanks.”
Ava lifted her gaze to the long mirror that backed the length of the bar.
Her breath caught in her throat.
The hunk standing behind her was as sexy as his voice had promised. His skin was the color of dark chestnut, his jaw was square, his lips were full and his midnight eyes were nothing short of mesmerizing. He was at least six-three with broad shoulders, a narrow waist, lean hips and powerful thighs encased in Armani. Ava worked at a law firm, so she saw men clad in designer suits every day. But whoever had coined the phrase, “The clothes make the man,” had never met this man.
He definitely made the clothes, and then some.
Ava’s mouth went dry as their eyes met in the mirror. The cell phone pressed to his ear seemed forgotten as he and Ava stared at each other.
After several breathtaking moments, the stud smiled at her.
She smiled briefly and glanced away, then watched out of the corner of her eye as he sauntered toward the end of the bar and sat down. She didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed that he’d left three empty seats between them.
Dismissing the thought, she looked up at the large plasma television mounted above the bar. The channel was tuned to the most recent episode of Michael Wolf’s Emmy-winning cooking program, Howlin’ Good. As Ava watched, the handsome chef accepted a spoonful of food from his adorable baby daughter, who beamed delightedly when Michael made an exaggerated show of smacking his lips while his beautiful wife looked on and laughed.
Ava smiled and sipped her martini, trying to ignore the dark, velvety timbre of the sexy stranger’s voice drifting from the other end of the bar. As he spoke on his cell phone, she kept her eyes trained on the television. But she could feel the heat of his gaze on her, making goose bumps race across her skin.
Just as she found herself wondering whether he was talking to a woman, he ended the call and reached for the bottle of beer that had been placed before him.
“Long day at the office, boss?” the bartender asked conversationally.
“Yeah,” came the drawled reply, “but is there any other kind?”
“Guess not when you work as many hours as you do. Come to think of it, I’m shocked to see you here this early on a weeknight. You must have snuck out when no one was looking.”
The man gave a low chuckle. “Something like that.”
“So you’re not joining the fellas for dinner tonight?”
“Nah. I like the scenery over here much better.”
Ava blushed as the bartender slyly intoned, “I bet you do.”
As Ava gulped down the last of her martini, the stranger ordered her another one.
Surprised, she turned to stare at him. “Thank you, but—”
“What’s your name, beautiful?”
That disarmed Ava. “Wh-What?”
“Your name.” Those dark eyes glinted at her. “What is it?”
She hesitated for a moment. “Ava.”
“Ava,” he repeated softly.
She nodded, marveling at the way his deep voice transformed her simple name into something exotic and beautiful.
“It suits you,” he told her.
“Thank you. My parents thought so, too.” She smiled at the bartender as he served her a fresh martini and winked before moving off to tend to another customer on the other side of the counter.
She returned her attention to the hunk. “And you are?”
He took a lazy sip of his beer. “Colby.”
Sexy name, she thought. Smiling, she raised her glass to him. “Nice to meet you, Colby.”
“Mmm.” With deliberate ease he rose to his feet and sauntered over to her.
She swallowed hard as he lowered himself onto the barstool beside hers, surrounding her with the heat of his body and the subtle, woodsy scent of his cologne. She felt flushed and intoxicated in a way that had nothing to do with the vodka she’d just consumed.
Holding her gaze, Colby tapped his beer bottle against her glass and murmured, “The pleasure’s definitely mine, Ava.”
They sipped their drinks without taking their eyes off each other, the electricity between them scorching the air they shared.
As Colby slowly lowered the bottle, Ava couldn’t help staring at his full, glistening lips. She wondered how they’d feel against hers—sliding, sucking, sensually coaxing her tongue from her mouth.
She shivered at the thought, heat pulsing through her veins.
As Colby set his drink on the counter, a platinum wristwatch peeked from beneath the cuff of his crisp white shirt.
“Are you here alone?” he asked Ava, his midnight eyes roaming across her face. “Or are you waiting for someone?”
She hesitated. “Yes.”
One thick brow lifted. “Yes to what?”
She met his gaze, smiling enigmatically. “What if I told you that I’m waiting for someone?”
He leaned closer. “Are you?”
She swallowed tightly. He was so close she could count every strand of his thick, sooty lashes and could detect the beginnings of a five-o’clock shadow that darkened his strong jaw.
“No.” Her voice was appallingly breathy. “I’m here alone.”
Colby’s lips curved in a slow, sexy smile that launched her pulse into the stratosphere. “Good.”
Ava glanced away to take a sip of her martini, trying to calm her rampaging nerves. She couldn’t remember the last time any man had wreaked such mayhem on her senses. But then again, she’d never met another man who oozed virility and testosterone like a biological weapon.
She licked salt from the rim of her glass, watching Colby’s dark gaze dip to her mouth.
“So what about you?” she asked conversationally. “I heard the bartender ask you about joining the fellas for dinner. Am I keeping you from your friends?”
“Nah.” His eyes lifted slowly to hers. “I’m good right where I am.”
A thrill of pleasure ran through Ava. She knew she should probably stop this from going any further. But she couldn’t. Worse, she didn’t want to.
“So,” Colby drawled lazily, “is this your first time at Wolf’s Soul?”
She shook her head. “I’ve been coming here since the restaurant opened.”
“Yeah? So have I. Damn shame that we never ran into each other before tonight.”
“Better late than never.”
“My sentiments exactly.”
They smiled at each other.
“So, what do you do?” The moment the words left her mouth, Ava wanted to snatch them back. Hadn’t she read on some dating advice blog that asking a man
what he did for a living was tantamount to asking him how much he made?
“I’m sorry,” she murmured. “Was that too personal?”
“Not at all.” He smiled. “My profession deals with numbers.”
“Really?” Ava was surprised. Somehow she couldn’t picture him as a number cruncher.
“By day anyway,” he added.
“Oh? You have a night job?”
His eyes glinted. “You could say that.”
“Oooh, sounds mysterious,” Ava teased. “Do you become a spandex-wearing masked crusader who battles the forces of evil?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I wouldn’t be caught dead wearing spandex.”
Ava threw back her head and laughed.
Colby smiled, staring at her. “What an amazing sight and sound.”
She met his gaze, still grinning. “What?”
“You. Your laugh.” He shook his head at her. “Takes my breath away.”
Ava blushed, her belly quivering with pleasure. Holding his gaze, she took a sip of her martini. When she found herself trying to remember whether she’d donned matching bra and panties that morning, she knew she was in trouble.
“Do you like to dance?” Colby asked.
“Dance?” she echoed blankly.
“Yeah.” His mouth twitched. “You know, the thing you do where you move your body rhythmically, usually to music.”
“Mmm,” Ava purred, feeling naughty. “I can think of at least one other activity that matches that description.”
Colby’s eyes widened, then darkened with arousal. Leaning closer to her, he murmured in her ear, “Which activity do you prefer?”
Ava shivered at the heat of his breath on her skin. “It depends on my partner. A bad…dancer can ruin the experience.”
“So true.”
“However,” she said, enjoying their wicked repartee, “a good dancer can help me work up a really good sweat.”
“Mmm. You like sweating, Ava?”
Merry Sexy Christmas Page 19