by Lynn Patrick
But Rafe was expecting a surprise, not a miracle, and he gaped when Melissa raised her sweet, flowerlike face and spotted him at the top of the stairs. Obviously as disconcerted as he, she stood still.
The rest of the scene was magical. Rafe didn’t know who moved first. Afterward he only remembered beckoning and reaching out to the shimmering vision, crystal combs sparkling in her soft hair, while she lifted her flowing sleeves and quickly flew up the steps and into his arms. Accepting the enchanting gift, Rafe embraced Melissa with all the fervor of his love and passion.
“Daddy!” complained Gretta. “You’re always crushing her wings!”
About to thoroughly kiss his lady, Rafe loosened his hold. In puzzlement he ran his hands over Melissa’s back and asked, “What wings?”
Melissa held out an arm and laughed breathlessly. She told Gretta, “These aren’t wings, honey. They’re just my sleeves.”
Louise and Hank had joined the little girl to surround the couple. Melissa and Rafe would have to wait until later for more complete intimacy.
“Surprise! Merry Christmas, Daddy!” Gretta cried, hugging his legs.
“Yeah. Merry Christmas, Dad. We invited Melissa,” Hank said proudly, acting as if he were giving Rafe a present.
“I get my very own—” Rafe began.
“Christmas fairy!” interrupted Gretta. “She’s the tooth fairy only for me.”
“I’ll have to remember that,” Rafe said dryly.
“Merry Christmas! Happy March 22!” Melissa cried, disengaging Rafe’s hold to pull a small bag out from a hidden pocket in her dress. Giggling, she sprinkled everyone and most of the floor around them with sparkling powder.
“Fairy dust!” exclaimed Gretta. “Are we gonna turn into punkins now?”
Hank groaned and poked his little sister.
“It’s love magic,” said Rafe. Although Melissa was laughing he could tell there were unspoken questions lurking in her bright blue eyes. Quickly taking her in his arms again, he whispered, “I’m sorry. I was such a fool. Can you forgive me?”
“Leave them alone for a minute. Let’s go back to the table,” said Louise, grabbing Hank and Gretta to lead the reluctant children away. “Did you think of this all by yourselves? I never even guessed. How clever you are!”
Gretta turned as she was dragged off. “Look, Daddy!” She pointed up at the light fixture above them. “Mistletoe! You’re supposed to kiss her!”
“Come on, sweetheart,” said Louise, propelling her around the corner.
Rafe didn’t need further prompting. He pulled Melissa into the stairwell leading upstairs, trying to get as much privacy as possible in the semiopen area. “Mistletoe magic,” he murmured, pressing her tightly against his body, claiming her lips with a long, exploratory kiss. How he needed his little fairy, he thought fiercely. “I’ll never let you go again,” he whispered before reclaiming her willing mouth.
Her heart warmed by his words, Melissa responded by putting her arms about his neck, oblivious to the way his tight embrace pressed the dress’s beading into her breasts. It had been so long since she’d felt this excitement that streaked through her like a shooting star. Their separation had seemed like an eternity. Yet now, anchored once again in Rafe’s arms, Melissa felt as if she’d come home.
Without thinking, she gently nipped Rafe’s lower lip, sensuously rubbing her body against him.
Groaning, he ran his fevered hands up her sides to possessively cup her breasts. His slight movement backed Melissa gently into the nearby railing of the stairway.
“Oh!” she gasped, suddenly realizing where they were.
“Damn!” he cursed as he relinquished her breasts and looked around him. “We can’t do anything here.”
“Or in there, either. We’ll have to wait.”
Taking a deep breath and caressing her hair, he gazed deeply into her eyes. “Well, little sugarplum, that’s the problem with having children.”
“There’s only one problem?”
“Well, there are a few others,” Rafe admitted sheepishly. “But those are usually caused by parents. Can you find it in your heart to forgive me—and the innocent kids I led wrong? What they did was my fault, you know. I let them get away with too much. And I compared you to Nicole with all her problems. I was so afraid you’d leave me like she did, I couldn’t see you as yourself. Then I went and drove you away. Can you believe I loved—love you anyway?”
“I believe you and forgive you. I love you, too, Rafe.”
She touched his lips with a kiss as light as gossamer wings, all the time thinking she’d do much more if they were entirely alone.
“I was planning on telling you tonight,” he continued between short, sweet kisses. “But the kids planned this dinner, and then you beat me to it.”
“Hey, Daddy! Melissa! Are you going to eat or not?” Gretta yelled, sticking her face around the stairwell corner.
“Gretta! Come back here!” Louise shouted.
“We may as well have dinner,” Rafe said, then whispered, “I’ll make it up to you later!”
Seeing the promise in his penetrating dark eyes, Melissa felt delicious chills climb up and down her spine. It would be difficult to behave during dinner. She would simply have to steel herself to be patient.
As they headed toward the dining room she asked, “Did you know your misguided children came to find me at one of my library jobs, Rafe?” When he shook his head she told him, “They invited me to this dinner. I don’t know why or how, but I think they want us to get back together.”
“I told you I had great kids!”
When they were seated Louise exclaimed, “What a wonderful dinner this is going to be!”
Sitting beside Melissa, Rafe held her hand tightly, managing to eat with his left hand. Though the food was barely lukewarm, it didn’t matter to Melissa. She wasn’t hungry anyway. She was satisfied to sit and merely look into Rafe’s velvety brown eyes.
“I was afraid our fairy tale wouldn’t have a happy ending,” she told him.
“So was I.”
“What kinda fairy tale are you talking about?” asked Gretta. “I wanna hear it.”
“You do?” Rafe turned to the child. “All right. Once upon a time, there was a little fairy who flew over a huge city. She was searching for something. She looked all over as she flew between the spires and the towers of the buildings. The city was beautiful—it shone like gold in the daytime sun and sparkled like it was decorated with strings of diamonds at night. But the fairy kept searching and searching and she couldn’t find what she was looking for.”
Melissa smiled with delight. She had no idea Rafe was good at storytelling.
“What was the fairy looking for?” asked Gretta, her eyes wide.
“A job in a department store?” questioned Hank jokingly.
“A tooth? Some choc’late candy?” Gretta licked her lips.
“Some friends?” asked Hank.
“No, the fairy was searching for love,” declared Louise knowingly.
“That’s true.” Melissa leaned over the table as she continued Rafe’s story. “The fairy was looking for love all right and she found it when she saw the dark prince. She hoped he was looking for her also when she flew down into his arms.”
“I hope she didn’t knock him over,” teased Hank.
“She wasn’t flying that fast, dummy!” Gretta hit her brother playfully with a piece of bread.
“Gretta! Don’t throw your food around,” remonstrated Louise, but the little girl had already retrieved the slice and placed it back on the table.
Rafe’s warm breath tickled Melissa’s ear, making her shiver. “Am I your dark prince?” he asked gruffly, caressing her with his eyes and tickling her knee under the table. “You’re definitely my fairy.”
“Hey, Daddy! Are you gonna make Melissa our wicket stepmother?” Gretta asked. Everyone stopped eating to stare at the child. “Ow!” Gretta jumped as Hank kicked her under the table. “’Scuse me! I m
ean magical stepmother, okay?”
Laughing, Rafe told Melissa, “You can take that as an official marriage proposal.”
“I accept,” she said quickly, the full realization of what she was promising sinking in as she looked around at the family. Not only would she be marrying the man she loved, but she’d be taking on the task of helping him raise his children. Could she do it? Her heart answered a resounding yes.
“Yea!” cried Gretta, waving her spoon and leaping up to hug Melissa. “Can I be the little girl in the wedding that walks around and throws flowers on top of everyone?”
“The flower girl,” Louise said. “It’s really true? You’re going to get married? How wonderful!”
Kissing Gretta and rising to hug Louise and then Hank, Melissa was elated by the family’s positive reaction. She sat back down beside Rafe. “We can tell everyone we pledged our troth on Christmas Day. Won’t that be romantic?”
“Except it’s really March 22,” Rafe corrected her.
“So? Holidays are magical. Christmas has no season—just like love,” she explained, feeling like her own heart was running over with joy. “You can celebrate a holiday whenever you want. Today is Christmas for me.”
“Okay, little Christmas Fairy,” he agreed softly. “I only know today’s the most wonderful day of my life.”
As she gazed into Rafe’s beckoning eyes Melissa couldn’t wait to be alone with him.
“Come on, kids,” said Louise. “Dinner’s over. We’re going out for dessert so your dad and Melissa can have some time alone. How would you like ice cream in thirty-five different flavors with hot fudge sauce and whipped cream?”
“Whew!” exclaimed Hank. “I’m glad Dad’s happy now, but I don’t know how much longer I could take the mushy stuff!”
“Then we can go to a movie,” Louise added. “Don’t worry about the pie I fixed, sweethearts. We can eat it later. Go get your coats.”
“I can stay up late tonight? Yea!” cried Gretta, “Merry Christmas!”
“To all,” said Hank.
Louise pushed them toward the stairs, but turned to Melissa and Rafe, who were already in each other’s arms. Winking, she added, “And to all a good night!”
About the Author
Lynn Patrick is a pseudonym of two authors who have been friends for thirty years. Also known as Jeanne Rose, Roslynn Patrick and Roslynn Griffith, they wrote 23 romances for 5 traditional publishers and have more than a million books in print together. Patricia also writes as Patricia Rosemoor and Linda is a college professor.
Look for these titles by Lynn Patrick
Now Available:
The Mermaid’s Touch
The Perfect Affair
Mistletoe Magic
Coming Soon:
More Than a Dream
Double or Nothing
Just a Lot More to Love
The Gentleman Farmer
Mystery in the Moonlight
When a free spirit and a rigid outlook collide, only love can find common ground.
The Perfect Affair
© 2012 Lynn Patrick
Morgana Lawrence makes dreams come true. The part-owner of a company that produces fantasy weddings, she needs Nicholas Bedford’s business—a medieval-themed wedding for his sister—but could do without his bossy advice on how to handle her business.
As a financial consultant, Nicholas can’t stop himself offering his opinion on the way Morgana runs things. It’s just so….inefficient! She’s a flighty artist who lives in the fantasy worlds she creates, and he’s firmly grounded in the real world. But still, he can’t help but be captivated by her vibrant personality and beauty.
But can a man who views love and marriage as just another business contract hope to capture such a free spirit?
Enjoy the following excerpt for The Perfect Affair:
Adding the final box of flowers to the pile, Morgana Lawrence blew a sigh of relief as though it might cool her flushed face. She checked the thermostat: eighty-six degrees. That worried her. If the temperature didn’t drop rapidly, she would be stuck with hundreds of wilted orchids and gardenias in the morning.
Pulling her sweat-soaked hair away from her face, Morgana pinned up her black tresses. She usually refused to wear her hair that way since it accented her long neck, but she was too hot to care. Longing to do nothing more than strip off her skimpy T-shirt and shorts and jump into a refreshing shower, Morgana picked up her clipboard instead. It wouldn’t hurt to do one more inventory.
Everything had to be perfect for the sunrise wedding ceremony. Although she tried to ignore the chattering chimp and screeching birds, it was impossible. With a sigh of resignation Morgana crossed the room, opened the cage door, and held out her hand.
“Come on out, you little creep,” she said to the chimp.
Like a small child that knows it has won its way, the chimp eagerly took her hand and waddled alongside her.
“I don’t think they’ll miss one banana, do you?” She lifted a bunch from one of the dozens of crates stacked along the walls. He took the fruit she offered him, then, engrossed in removing the peel, sat quietly.
“If only you two could be silenced so easily.” She scolded the macaw and cockatoo. Their screeching was giving her a royal headache!
“I’ll be glad when this wedding is over,” Morgana complained as she eyed the clutter. Would the van hold all this? Across the room the phone rang. Morgana glanced at the chimp before going to find it. He was absorbed in eating his banana. She was sure he’d be all right for a moment.
Unable to see the telephone, Morgana followed the cord to its hiding place behind the boxes of flowers she had stacked so carefully. She hunted for the phone anxiously, hoping the caller would hang on for a few rings longer. In her haste she managed to dump an entire box of orchids around her feet.
“Damn!” Her hand closed over the receiver. “Hello. Lawrence and Smythe, Fantasy Weddings.”
“Wake here.”
“Oh, Mr. Wake.” Morgana was relieved to hear from him. She had tried unsuccessfully to reach him all day. “The deliveries have been made, and everything’s ready for tomorrow,” she said, assuring him with her fingers crossed.
“Miss Lawrence, I don’t know quite how to tell you this, but I have some news for you.”
“Another change?” she asked wearily, pulling her hand across her forehead. She couldn’t believe her luck. Every time she thought everything was set, the Wakes threw her another curve. If it weren’t for the money…
“Mr. Wake, I’ll do the very best I can, but it is Saturday afternoon. That only leaves us about thirteen hours—”
He interrupted her. “The jungle wedding is off.”
“What?”
“Lavinia and I have decided to elope.”
“Elope?” The word came out in a strangled sob. She’d gone through all this for nothing?
“The family’s impossible, just like the first time we got married. We eloped then, too.”
“Mr. Wake, the wedding is scheduled for sunrise. Everything had to be delivered here. At my shop!” Morgana waved her free hand in agitation. “I’m surrounded by crates of fresh fruit, gallons of piña colada mix, boxes of flowers, one screeching chimp, and two squawking birds!” On cue each animal tried to outdo the other, so Morgana used her free hand to cover her left ear. “What do I do with all this?”
“Sell everything,” Mr. Wake said.
“What?”
“We’re leaving for Africa tonight,” Wake told her. “We’ll be married at the safari camp where we reconciled. My bush outfit and Lavinia’s suede wrap dress will be a little fancy for the real jungle, but we’ll wear them anyway. You did do a nice job designing them,” he conceded, as if playing up to her ego would smooth over things.
Morgana found herself in the middle of a nightmare. There had never been a cancellation before. She’d sensed this wedding would be trouble, but she’d gone along with her sister when Blanche enthusiastically accepted the Wa
ke wedding, assuring the reconciled couple their ideas were perfectly within reason.
“Mr. Wake, there are outstanding bills—”
“I’m sure my lawyer will be able to convince you they are your responsibility.” His voice had lost its congeniality.
Morgana studied the flowers strewn around her feet, crushing one under her heel in disgust. From the corner of her eye she saw the chimp climb over the crates and cages while stuffing himself with bananas. He was throwing the peels around the room.
“Mr. Wake, make no mistake. I’m a businesswoman. Your lawyer doesn’t frighten me. You will receive an invoice for the unpaid portion of your wedding bill. I suggest you pay it promptly!” She slammed down the phone, barely missing her own fingers. “What nerve!”
Her adrenaline pumping like mad, Morgana turned to face the clutter. She was calculating her losses, trying to find a way to minimize them, when the impact of the chimp’s mischief hit her. Morgana closed her eyes to shut out the sight.
Knowing the mess would not disappear because she refused to look at it, Morgana reluctantly surveyed the damage. The chimp had strewn banana peels and mangoes around the room, but he hadn’t done any real harm. At the moment he was on the highest stack of crates, trying to open a plastic jug.
“The piña colada mix. No, you don’t,” Morgana scolded him as she crossed the room to the devilish animal. “Come on, give it here,” she coaxed.
Just out of her reach, the chimp seemed to delight in her efforts to take hold of him. He jumped up and down, screeching at her, then moved back and took the jug with him. While he renewed his efforts to open the bottle, Morgana pulled another crate next to his refuge. This time her long arms and legs couldn’t do the trick alone.
“Be a nice boy, would you? I’ve had a hard day,” she complained.
Morgana managed to get a grip on the bottle while the chimp succeeded in loosening the top. The struggle was short-lived. Morgana gave a huge tug. The chimp let go! It might have been an ocean wave approaching. Morgana saw it in slow motion. An undulating, rippling swell of whitish fluid separated into tiny splashing streams, missing her clothes by a scant few inches but spraying her face.