Love Under the Mistletoe Read online

  ‘I’ve not said anything about who you are, and I won’t.’ He spoke without turning. ‘It’s not my place. But Howard Hailey is right. You should let the world know who R. M. Valentine really is.’ He turned to face her, and she could see that the end of the ribbon was tied to his right wrist. He motioned her to him and she moved forward on unsteady feet, but stopped several yards from him as though she were rooted to the floor.

  ‘This is a business meeting,’ he said, looking down at the ribbon. ‘Otherwise I would be standing here naked and bound, waiting for you to untie me.’

  ‘I don’t understand.’ Her words came out a breathy whisper.

  ‘First of all, I want to apologise for my really bad, really unprofessional behavior the last time we met. I’m usually careful not to speak before I fully understand the situation.’ He closed the distance between them and took both of her hands as though he feared she might turn and run. Little did he know, at the moment, she could barely stand she was trembling so badly.

  ‘Needless to say, Howard Hailey tore me a new one, and I absolutely deserved it. Moira, I …’ He squeezed her hands until they almost hurt. ‘I was so wrong. So very wrong.’

  Before she could speak, he continued. ‘But as I said, this is a business meeting, and here are my conditions.’ This time before she could respond, he placed a finger against her lips to shush her. ‘First off, you and I sit down and discuss this merger like two people who really do want both companies, the companies that will soon be one company, our company, to benefit the most. No one-upmanship, no second-guessing.’

  She blinked and nodded her agreement.

  ‘Good.’ He continued. ‘Secondly, when we make the public announcement, I want to make it with the real R.M. Valentine standing at my side. I know you’ve worked behind the scenes all this time. I know you took the company your father practically ran into the ground and turned it around, and I know why you kept all of that a secret. But your father was wrong, Moira. He was so wrong. You deserve the credit, and you deserve to be able to live your life honestly and in the open. I can’t demand this of you, but I’m asking because I want you to share in the limelight with me. Acceptable?’ he asked, cupping her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze.

  ‘Acceptable,’ she managed, blinking hard to hold back tears. She had dreamed of being able to take the reins of the Valentine Corporation openly and honestly for so long, she could barely believe it was really going to happen, and for the first time, she wondered why she had waited so long.

  ‘Good.’ He stripped out of his jacket and tossed it on a rattan rocker, then started to work on his tie. ‘And finally, when the announcement is made about the merger, I want it to be perfectly clear that the CEO of Jasper Inc. absolutely adores the CEO of the Valentine Corporation and is seriously hoping for another merger of a much more personal nature. God, I hope that’s acceptable, because it’s the truth, Moira Valentine, it’s the absolute truth, and I’ve been dying to tell you since you showed up under my Christmas tree. Please tell me it’s acceptable.’

  ‘Yes! It’s acceptable.’ She spoke around a sob, and it was only as her brought his thumb to her cheek to wipe away a tear that she realized at some point she had given up trying not to cry. With a hiccup, she continued. ‘I want you to know that what I did, how I came to you, I’d never done that before. I didn’t know it would be you or I never would have … I just wanted to … to be with someone, to feel something.’

  He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her hard, then pulled back so that he could look into her eyes. ‘I don’t care why you did it or how many times, but I’m so glad that it was my Christmas tree you ended up under, because you have to know, Moira Valentine, you’re amazing. You were amazing under my Christmas tree, you’re an amazing businesswoman, you’re an amazing lover, and you’re an amazing person. You’re the best gift I ever had, and I want you in my life.’

  Just then, cheers from outside echoed upward from the canyon of skyscrapers that was Time Square and they both turned to watch the ball drop. Fireworks erupted across the sky, which was unobstructed from their view. For a long moment they stood watching then he turned and kissed her again, this time lingering long to explore and to reacquaint himself with her mouth. When he pulled away, his voice was breathless. ‘Happy New Year, Moira. I have a feeling it’s going to be a good one.’

  ‘Happy New Year, Gerard.’ It was a good thing he held her close because she wasn’t entirely sure she could stand. ‘I have a feeling you might be right.’

  With hands that seemed to be trembling almost as badly as hers were, he pushed her jacket off her shoulders and raked her with a hungry gaze. Then he guided her hands to the buttons of his crisp, white shirt. ‘And now, if you’d like to open your New Year’s gift because it’s practically bursting from its wrapper.’

  As fireworks lit up the sky above them, she tortured him with slow, deliberate movements, undoing the velvet ribbon from around his wrist, then carefully unbuttoning each button of his shirt and removing each cufflink as though it were a delicate task. She might have passed for the cool-handed CEO she was if not for her nipples threatening the integrity of her white silk blouse and her breath coming in quick little gasps between slightly parted lips, which she raked periodically with her teeth. But when he reached for her buttons, desperate to feel her naked flesh, desperate to cup and caress, she slapped his hands away.

  ‘I like to unwrap my gifts slowly,’ she said, offering him a wicked smile. ‘I like to anticipate the pleasure, to wait for it, savour it. I usually even fold the wrapping up paper neat and tidy before I enjoy my gifts.

  He glared at her as she finally slipped his shirt off his shoulders. ‘Don’t you dare.’ But she simply let it slide down his arms and off onto the floor while she admired his bare chest – first with her hungry gaze and then with her hands, thumbs raking his nipples, then plunging her fingers dangerously into the waistband of his trousers. ‘Oh God, woman. You’re evil,’ he gasped as her hand slid down deeper to stroke his cock through his boxers.

  But even her patience wasn’t endless as she squatted in front of him, balancing beautifully on her black heels with her legs demurely pressed together beneath the black pencil skirt. She undid his belt and his fly as though she were an escape artist at work, and she planned to spring him from his prison. Her warm breath against his erection as it bounced free into her hand was nearly his undoing as she yanked both his trousers and boxers down and practically unbalanced him in her efforts to get his shoes off.

  ‘Woah,’ he laughed, catching himself against her shoulder. ‘I thought you liked to unwrap your gifts slowly.’

  As he kicked his way out of his trousers, she stood and stepped back just out of his reach. ‘Ah, but when I know what the gift is, I get very impatient,’ she said. Watching his cock as though she were afraid it might suddenly grow legs and run away, she practically tore off her blouse and, God, the view was exquisite when she took off her bra, her breasts dancing and swaying in the light of the fireworks as she stripped off the rest of her clothes as though they were burning her. The sight of her standing naked and willing in front of him after he thought he’d lost her forever made his chest ache. She was really here with him now, and he had no intention of letting her go again. He kissed her lips, then felt her breath catch as he settled a kiss on each of her nipples, then dropped to his knees in front of her, drawing her close so that his cheek rested on her belly, which tensed against him. ‘It’s been a whole week since I’ve made love to you, Moira Valentine, and I don’t think I can wait much longer.’

  She followed him down to the floor and helped him into a condom while he was distracted by the sway of her breasts, by the soft curls shielding the silky-wet heat of her. Then she rose above him, squatting just long enough, just high enough for him to get a glimpse of the juncture between her thighs open and ready for him. Then she sheathed him and began to rock and sway on top of him, arching her back so that the shimmy and dance of her breasts was i
n easy reach for him. Somewhere in the city he could hear cannons firing, bells ringing, a choir singing. But all that gave way to the sound Moira’s urgent moans and whimpers as she drew near her orgasm and the sound of his heart hammering in his ears and his blood rushing hot through his veins as he thrust up into her velvet and iron grip, losing himself in her depths, in her need, in the sheer joy of their joining. And as the fireworks climaxed in a blinding explosion of color across the sky above Times Square and darkness settled back over the city, they came together, growling and clawing, laughing and gasping. And when at last they could breathe again, he pulled his jacket over them and held her there on top of him, still fully impaled.

  She lifted her head enough to look into his eyes and offered a bright smile. ‘After your very persuasive presentation, Mr Jasper, I’d like to heartily endorse the Jasper/Valentine merger as a definite win-win deal for both parties. However,’ she wriggled deliciously against him, ‘I’d still like to see all of your data.’

  He ran his hand down to cup her bottom and rolled until she was beneath him with her legs wrapped around his hips. ‘I’m happy to share all my findings with Madame CEO, but I have to warn you, it could take a very,’ he kissed her with plenty of tongue, ‘very long time.’ He kissed her again, and she giggled into his mouth.

  ‘I’m nothing if not thorough, Mr CEO. Time is not an issue, so go ahead.’ She bit his bottom lip then ran her tongue across it. ‘Show me all you’ve got.’

  The Sharpness of Holly

  Demelza Hart

  Chapter One

  ‘Hasn’t changed, has she?’

  ‘No. She’ll never find anyone with an attitude like that.’

  ‘And all that money spent on education. For what? She’s as moody and spiteful as ever.’

  ‘She’s got brains, I’ll give her that.’

  ‘Won’t get her a man though. So different to her sister. Hard to believe she and Rosa are from the same womb.’

  ‘Not that Rosa holds onto them either. Goes through them like a bag of Jelly Babies.’

  ‘Bites their heads off first, you mean?’

  ‘Something like that. But I hear Rosa’s new one may be a keeper. First one she’s brought along for Christmas in an age.’

  ‘Jane will be happy. Hopefully that’ll be the end of the lectures and queries.’

  ‘Well, it seems at least one of the Merchant sisters can find a man, after all. The other, God help her … She may only be young, but who the hell’s going to want that one?’

  The Merchant sister in question stared out over the lawns of Highmoor House, safely hidden behind the curtain in the bow window. She’d heard every word of her aunts’ conversation.

  Holly Merchant scowled as she stared through the panes. Their words didn’t hurt any longer; they were a common enough refrain, but the thought of her sister bringing a future husband to the annual Christmas gathering filled her with rage. He would be fawned over and so would Rosa. Rosa: the pretty one, the luminous one, the one everyone liked.

  It had been that way for as long as she could remember. At every stage of their upbringing she was reminded of her sister’s perfection. ‘Rosa wouldn’t have done that.’, ‘Why don’t you take a leaf out of Rosa’s book?’, ‘Try to dress more like Rosa.’

  As far as Holly was concerned, she’d done alright. She was at Cambridge studying English Literature, wasn’t she, coming to the end of her first term? Rosa hadn’t managed anything like it.

  She did love her sister; their bond was deeper than anything family spite could throw at it, but she resented the shift her presence brought to the household.

  The Merchants always came to Highmoor for Christmas. Holly’s Great-aunt Flora had for decades lived alone in the rambling Georgian pile in Devon. At Christmas the wider family with its large entourage of maiden aunts and mad uncles would descend en-masse from the Home Counties. Holly was apparently pre-destined to become one of those maiden aunts. She was too stubborn, too plain, too intelligent for her own good, it was said.

  Holly agreed. She was all of those things, but she thought they were very much for her good.

  The family Christmases could have been a nightmare, but in a perverse sort of way Holly was happy to skulk in the shadows, observing and considering. Ten years before, she and Rosa used to skulk together and spy on their curious relatives. Not anymore. She didn’t want to tell her, for fear of making it irreversible, but Rosa just bored her now.

  Recently, Rosa had started abandoning the traditional gathering and going elsewhere for Christmas, normally to some far-flung, exotic location. If Holly had done that, she would have been accused of deserting the family, of not caring. When Rosa did it, it was put down to her admirable quest for personal development. But this year Rosa had stayed in the UK, and not only that, she was bringing someone. Mother would be pleased.

  Jane Merchant had been desperate for her eldest to settle down and produce a little Merchant since she’d finished Benenden. Christmas was particularly tough; it seemed to bring out Jane’s broody side, a side which should have been buried after the birth of her second daughter nineteen years previously.

  Rosa hated the pressure and the questions, Holly knew that. This year, it would be simpler for her. There was a man. That at least was a start.

  But Holly hated him already. All of Rosa’s exes had been predictable and hopeless. They all doted on her and she rewarded them with a simpering affection which hid bored disinterest. He was sure to be boring too. Daniel, that was his name. He was an engineer of some kind. She hadn’t bothered to ask more.

  Holly arrived at Highmoor a week before Christmas. Rosa was due later that day. Holly couldn’t pretend she wasn’t excited to see her sister again. It had been a few months. But she couldn’t care less about meeting Daniel. All Rosa’s men were so bloody boring. Nevertheless, when she heard the car pull up she rushed down the stairs, remembering at the last minute not to look too keen to see her.

  Rosa wafted in, as effortlessly beautiful as ever in her cream cashmere coat and immaculate blonde hair straight out of a shampoo commercial. Behind her walked a tall man with thick and curiously dishevelled dark hair. He had on jeans and a shirt and jacket.

  Rosa embraced her and Holly couldn’t help giving her a lingering hug. Her sister’s slight frame always seemed to need a good hug. Rosa smiled, then turned to the man behind her.

  ‘Holly, this is Daniel.’

  ‘Hello.’ He held his hand out. Holly didn’t bother to look up at him.

  ‘Hello,’ she muttered, determined to convey her lack of enthusiasm.

  He was still extending his hand. She would have to shake it. She held up her hand reluctantly and let him take it. His fingers closed around hers and held them with surprising assurance. He had a very firm grip. She gave in and her eyes flicked up. He was looking at her. Large, dark eyes, surprisingly deep. Holly looked down again quickly and turned away.

  ‘Don’t mind Holly,’ Rosa sighed to Daniel. ‘Don’t take it personally. She’s bloody miserable with everyone, aren’t you, Hols? Bloody awful journey. The M4 was a nightmare. I could murder a drink,’ said Rosa, walking through to the living room. ‘Daniel? Drink?’

  ‘Hm?’ He seemed distracted. Holly didn’t dare glance back at him, but she was curious. ‘Yes, alright.’ He sounded terse. It annoyed her instantly.

  Holly stayed away from the other family introductions, but she could hear her mother’s gushing tones as she was introduced to Daniel, even from the safety of her room. She gave them time, then when boredom got the better of her, made her way back to the living room where Rosa sat with Daniel.

  The two of them were sitting beside each other. Holly put herself as far from them as she could on the opposite sofa.

  ‘So … what’s the gossip, Prickles?’ inquired her sister.

  Prickles. Rosa’s pet name for her. She’d been flattered by the acknowledgement of her ferociousness when they were children, but now it embarrassed her and she suspected her si
ster knew this. ‘Who the hell’s that?’ she countered.

  ‘You are, silly.’

  ‘Don’t call me that anymore. I’ve told you before not to.’

  ‘See what I mean? The cat’s been sharpening her claws.’ Rosa turned to Daniel with the slightest sneer. ‘I thought perhaps you’d make an effort this year.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Well, isn’t it about time you grew up?’

  ‘What makes you think I haven’t?’

  Rosa sighed. ‘Petulant misery, for one. Anyway, how are the studies going? Is Cambridge everything you demand of it?’