by Alexis Anne, Audra North, Julia Kelly, Alexandra Haughton
Yes. If this was Blane Douglas, she was going to have a very happy Christmas indeed.
Chapter 2
It took everything Blane had to carry the glasses from the bar to the table without dropping them. He’d been fine from the bar until about halfway across the room. Then he’d noticed the brunette with long hair that curled in soft S’s had joined his parents. Still, he hadn’t thought anything of it until the woman turned around and their eyes met.
That’s when it felt as though someone had taken his heart and squeezed it. Hard.
She was incredible with an oval face and full lips that would be as seductive smiling as they would be puckered in a whisper. She wore a red dress that wrapped across her breasts in a perfect outline, black stockings with an old-fashioned seam running up them, and modest heels that strapped over her feet in a T. She was like something out of a movie—the siren sent to tempt and test the hero. He had no doubt she could do it. All it would take was a couple of well-placed words and he’d be chasing after her.
As he approached his parents, he schooled his face into an easy smile. No doubt the two people who stood with this mystery woman were her parents, indulging in the same dinner at the club that they were. It wouldn’t be appropriate to salivate over their daughter while they were standing right there.
“Here you are, Mum” he said, handing her the champagne. He gave his father the whiskey.
“Blane, this is Josephine and Gerald Hemphill and their daughter Allina. She’s just moved back from Chicago,” said his mother.
“Another ex-pat come home,” he said. “How are you finding London?”
The corners of her mouth inched up just a little but it was enough to make him want to see her full-blown smile, head tossed back and teeth showing. He wanted to be the man who made her laugh like that.
“I’m adjusting,” Allina said. “It’s strange to be back after so long.”
“I felt the same way. But I’m being rude, would any of you like a drink?”
He addressed Josephine and Gerald but he was really watching Allina. He wanted a moment apart with this beautiful woman.
“Why don’t I help you?” she asked. “You’ll have the same as usual, Mum and Dad?”
While her parents nodded, Blane mentally pumped his fist in victory.
“Lead the way,” he said, stepping back to let her through.
As she passed him, he caught a whiff of her perfume—something floral but deep and complex. It was unlike anything he’d ever smelled before.
He watched her hips as she swayed up to the bar, nodded to the bartender, and ordered two whiskeys and a gin on the rocks with a twist of lemon in quick succession.
“Your parents aren’t standing right here anymore, so you can tell me the truth now. How is it being home?” he asked.
She turned so that she could lean on the bar and face him. “Different. I don’t really know what to make of it yet. Sometimes it’s a little lonely because I feel like I should know more people. Work keeps me busy.”
He could sympathize with that completely. He’d moved back in February ahead of his parents. As much as he loved it in London, sometimes he couldn’t help the low ache for connection that struck him during the quiet moments on the most innocuous days.
“And your parents?” he asked.
“They’re happy to have me back, and I’m happy to be here although I could do without the fretting about my dating life.”
He cleared his throat. “My mother’s been on me about getting married ever since I left my fiancée.”
Blane never knew how women would react when he said that. He’d had everything from sympathetic cooing to out and out shock. Allina, however, only raised an eyebrow. “Left?”
“Cheating. Best man. All of the clichés you can imagine.”
“Not on your wedding day, I hope,” she said.
He actually laughed at that. “Thankfully they spared me that one.”
That little smile was back again. “I’m sorry you went through that.”
“I’m not,” he said with conviction. “Leaving was the best decision I’ve ever made. It also happened two years ago, but I imagine it will come up if my mother has another glass of champagne.”
“Loose lips sink ships,” she said.
“And tipsy mothers are the most endearing and embarrassing people on the planet.”
“So you know that this is a set up rolled nicely into a Christmas dinner?” she asked as the bartender slid the glasses in front of them.
He laughed. “On Christmas Eve?”
She shot him a pitying look laced with plenty of amusement. “I spotted it the moment your mother walked up to our table and said the words ‘my son.’”
“Is that right?” he asked as she handed him one of the whiskeys to carry.
“You’ve got much to learn. The worst is the New Year’s Eve ball. That’s when it’s easiest for them to spot the single children because they don’t have a partner standing with them.”
“My mother was just telling me about that the other night. Who goes?”
“Everyone,” she said, sweeping a hand in front of her. “Young, old, married, single. The Albion throws a pretty impressive party with fireworks out of the back garden and all, so anyone with a connection tries to make sure they’re here. Will you go? I’m sure Mr. Charles could squeeze another into the seating arrangement.”
He shook his head. “I’ll be in Venice with some friends. I leave Boxing Day.”
Disappointment passed over her face like a shadow, but just as quickly she was smiling again. “Well, at least you won’t have to get your dinner jacked out.”
He nodded but couldn’t help thinking that—set up or not—he’d be more than happy to put on a bow tie and shirt studs for a chance to see her again. “Well, shall we go back and face our scheming parents?”
“You say that like we have another choice,” she said.
“Naïve, I know.”
He stepped back to let her slide by him. There was that perfume again, wrapping around his senses and driving him just a little crazy. Suddenly finding out what it was seemed like the most important thing in the world. He wanted to know why she’d chosen it and if she put it on every morning or just for special occasions. But mostly he wanted to kiss the spots where she dabbed it, running his lips over soft skin. He wanted to taste her, to feel her. There was something about this woman that pulled him in and wouldn’t let him go.
Placing a hand on the small of her back as she maneuvered around a little cluster of chairs in the center of the room. Her shoulders stiffened, but then she melted against his hand and he knew he wasn’t the only one who was tempted.
* * * * *
The moment Blane’s hand fell on Allina’s back, everything went quiet. It was as though the whole world had fallen away and they were the only people. She turned her head a little to look up at him, a touch of mischief in his dark blue eyes.
They returned to their parents—who had no doubt been looking for signs of a spark—and slid into conversation. The tension between them lingered, but that was all. Blane simply sat next to her, sliding a look her way every once in awhile, but a look was just a look.
In the end, her parents had declared that it was time for them to head to bed. She’d been torn for a moment, but in the end she gave up. There was no way she could stay without making it clear that she was only staying for him and that would be far too embarrassing. She might as well stand up and shout, “This is the man I want to sleep with tonight!” in the middle of the club.
And so she’d tugged on her coat, stuffed her hands in her pockets, and followed her parents out the door with a farewell to Mr. Charles and a promise to visit again soon.
It wasn’t until she was halfway to Mayfair that she realized something was missing. Her scarf. Her brand-new scarf that she absolutely loved.
“Damn,” she muttered.
“What’s the matter, dear?” her mother asked, glancing back over her shou
lder.
“I’ve left my scarf. It must have gotten separated from my coat.”
“I should have realized,” said her mother. “Do you want us to go back with you to get it? The club closes for Christmas and Boxing Day.”
She shook her head. “No, it’s silly for us all to walk back. I’ve got the spare keys. I’ll let myself in.”
“Take a cab when you come back. It’ll be safer that way,” said her father in as stern a voice as he ever put on.
Rather than remind her father that this was one of the safest areas in all of Britain, she just nodded, waved goodbye to her parents, and then walked briskly back.
Mr. Charles opened the door, no doubt surprised to see her back so soon.
“I forgot my scarf,” she said by way of explanation.
“My apologies for not realizing,” said the man. “Let me go find it for you.”
He disappeared into the cloak room, leaving her alone in the entryway. She tried to fight down the temptation to bound up the stairs and find Blane again. She’d never had quite so immediate a reaction to any man. The attraction was almost palpable, and she couldn’t deny the electricity of his touch. She wanted him in a reckless, daring sort of way but there was something else there too. A steadiness. A loneliness. A desire to reach out for someone else and hold onto them. All of those things she knew about herself were reflected back at her in him. If only the logistics had been a little bit better.
There was a sound on the stairs. She looked up and there he was, buttoning the second button on his suit jacket as he descended.
“You’re back,” he said, a smile spreading over his wide, inviting lips.
“I forgot my scarf,” she said lamely.
“Isn’t that fortuitous.”
“Fortuitous?” she asked, watching him cross the room with a sure stride until he was right in front of her.
“For me. I forgot to tell you something.”
Suddenly his hand was in her hair and his lips were on hers and he melted her with the most delicious kiss.
She angled her lips to deepen the kiss, wrapping a hand around the back of his neck to pull him a little closer to her. His arms went around her waist and under the short edge of her coat to press the warm silk of her favorite dress close to her skin. She rocked her body side to side, shamelessly rubbing against the front of his trousers.
She’d wanted men before but this was something more. When Blane kissed her he seemed to reach inside and touch her very soul. In that moment, he was everything. She was breathless and yet her desire was insatiable.
The chimes of the carved oak grandfather clock that stood against one wall of the entryway began to chime midnight. Like Cinderella, it pulled her out of her fantasy. She was standing in the middle of her parents’ club, kissing a man she’d only just met. She didn’t want it to stop, but she knew that even the very best things have to come to an end.
She pulled away gently, her fingers still gripping the short hairs at the nape of his neck. “What was it you wanted to tell me?”
“Happy Christmas, Allina.”
Her eyes fluttered close for a moment, wanting to memorize everything about this moment. Maybe, if she did that, she could hold onto it and recall it back to herself in those moments when it was just her in her quiet flat.
“Happy Christmas,” she said.
They broke away as Mr. Charles came through the cloak room door, her scarf in hand. “The porter put it away on one of the shelves for safekeeping.”
“Thank you,” she said. She glanced at Blane, but over his shoulder she could see his parents making their way down the stairs. All of the magic of their kiss had dissipated.
With a quick goodbye, she made her way out the door and into the cold night once again.
Chapter 3
Around eleven o’clock on New Year’s Eve, Allina stood in the middle of the Albion Club’s largest drawing room wearing a blue and white Carolina Herrera dress, trying her hardest to mirror the cheer she saw around her. She had a glass of champagne in her hand, her hair was swept up off of her neck in a simple twist, and a pair of her mother’s sapphire drops glittered on her ears. Everything should be perfect—everything was perfect—except that she couldn’t shake her disappointment that Blane wasn’t going to be there.
She hadn’t stopped thinking about him or that Christmas Eve kiss all week. It was always there in the back of her head, nudging at her, urging her to figure out a way to see him again. She told herself that London was a small city. They would run into each other again, especially given their parents’ friendship. But all of that required patience and a little bit of luck—things she didn’t want to waste her time on. She wanted him and she wanted him right now.
She knew that she wasn’t going to see him tonight. He’d told her that he would be in Venice with his friends for the holiday, but that didn’t stop her from thinking that she saw him out of the corner of her eye every single time she turned.
“Allina Hemphill, that is a gorgeous dress.”
She turned and found herself standing in front of Pippa McDonald, both innocent and sexy in a white gown that cut almost to her bellybutton.
“Pippa! It’s been so long,” she said, kissing her old friend from school on each cheek.
“Ages, I know. We seem to keep missing each other.”
“I used to just do a quick trip for Christmas because I needed to be back at the museum in the new year,” she explained.
“But I heard a rumor you’re in London now.”
She nodded. “That’s right.”
“Well you’ll have to come over for dinner one night. My husband’s around here somewhere,” the woman said as she peered around the party. “Ah there he is.”
Pippa beckoned to a tall, handsome man with fiery red hair who swept up a couple of champagne flutes from a passing waiter as he made his way over.
“Darling,” the man said as he handed his wife a glass of wine.
“Daniel, I want you to meet Allina. We used to be such good friends before she ran off to America.”
“Well, I’m sure that London’s happy to have you back,” he said, exchanging her empty glass for a full one. “Has Pippa already made you promise to come to dinner?”
She laughed. “How did you know?”
“We just had our kitchen redone, and I’ve been itching to use it properly,” said Pippa.
“I would love to give you an excuse,” she said with a smile.
Something tall and besuited caught her attention out of the corner of her eye. She glanced over and away quickly, knowing that it wasn’t going to be Blane, but then her eyes widened and her gaze snapped back. He was there, standing at the head of the Albion’s drawing room, one hand casually tucked into the pocket of his trousers, his eyes trained on her.
Pippa must have followed her look because her old friend said, “Oh my. Who is that and why does he look as though he wants to eat you up?”
“That,” she said as Blane began to push his way through the crowd, “is someone I didn’t expect to see tonight.”
“You should bring him to dinner too. He’s delicious.”
“I’m right here,” her husband laughed.
Pippa turned and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “And I’m very glad of that dear. I’m just watching out for Allina’s interests. Whatever they are.”
“I’ll have to get back to you on that,” she said, more than a little breathless. He was here. He was here and not in Venice. Despite what she saw right in front of her, her brain wasn’t quite processing the information fast enough to keep up.
“In that case, I think we’ll give you a little space,” said Pippa, elbowed her husband away.
She broke her gaze from Blane long enough to watch her friend glide away. When she looked back, Blane was right in front of her.
“Happy New Year,” he said.
“You’re here,” she said, still not quite believing it.
“I’m here.”
“N
ot in Venice.”
He shook his head. “Not in Venice.”
“Why? When?” She knew that she sounded like an idiot but getting this clear seemed vitally important.
“I flew back this evening. I landed about an hour and a half ago and just stopped off at home to change.”
“But I thought you were gone for the new year,” she said.
He shoved a hand through his hair sheepishly. “I was supposed to be. In fact, I have a couple of friends who are going to be giving me crap for years because I abandoned them, but I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I don’t care about spending the night at the casino. I changed my flight and now I’m exactly where I want to be right now.”
He couldn’t stop thinking about her. He wanted to be there with her. It was almost too much except that it was exactly what she’d barely allowed herself to dream of.
“Look, I know this is forward but—”
“Yes.” She stopped him short. “Whatever it is, yes. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you either.”
He reached for her free hand, his fingers twining in hers. Then he pulled her close until there was barely an inch between them. “Allina…”
She didn’t wait to hear him say the rest. Instead, she went up on her tip toes and kissed him softly on the lips. It was just a brush, the merest feather of a kiss, but it carried with it the promise of more.
He squeezed her hand. “You know, everyone just saw that.”
She bit her lip. “I know. I’m more than okay with that. What about you?”