Hot Christmas Nights

  HOT CHRISTMAS NIGHTS: A LOVECATS DOWNUNDER BOX SET

  VOLUME #1

  Seven Contemporary Romances

  Rachel Bailey

  Michelle Douglas

  Louisa George

  Helen Lacey

  Stefanie London

  Kandy Shepherd

  Jennifer St George

  Copyright © 2015

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the authors’ imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  ISBN 978-0-9949017-0-5

  http://www.lovecatsdownunder.blogspot.com.au/

  FOREWORD

  Hot Christmas Nights… For those of you who live north of the equator this is probably a foreign concept. But down here in the southern hemisphere, Christmas is hot. It’s sitting-around-a-pool or going-to-the-beach hot. It’s prawns-and-salads hot. It’s t-shirts-and-cold-summer-fruits hot. There’s no eggnog or mulled wine. There are no white fields or snowy fences with fat little robins twittering away. Christmas isn’t white DownUnder—it’s ocean blue and tropical green and sunny yellow. So when the LoveCats started kicking around themes for a box set of novellas it seemed only natural that the title reflected our rather unique perspective on the festive season. And lo, seven novellas were born!

  And what a collection it is! From small town to big city, from Australia to New Zealand, there’s style, glamor and a big dose of love from authors known and adored the world over for their own unique romance voices. I’ve loved each and every one of these stories and I just know you’re going to as well! So settle in and get ready to be swept away. And from us here at the LoveCats, we wish a happy and peaceful holiday season to you all.

  Amy Andrews

  USA Today bestselling author

  Table of Contents

  ALL SHE WANTS FOR CHRISTMAS ~ RACHEL BAILEY

  CHRISTMAS WISHES, NEW YEAR KISSES ~ MICHELLE DOUGLAS

  BABY, IT’S HOT OUTSIDE ~ LOUISA GEORGE

  HER CHRISTMAS COWBOY ~ HELEN LACEY

  SLEIGH BELLS IN THE SAND ~ STEFANIE LONDON

  MILLIONAIRE UNDER THE MISTLETOE ~ KANDY SHEPHERD

  HER SMALL-TOWN CHRISTMAS WISH ~ JENNIFER ST GEORGE

  ALL SHE WANTS FOR CHRISTMAS

  ~

  RACHEL BAILEY

  Copyright © 2015 Rachel Bailey

  All rights reserved.

  CHAPTER ONE

  December 23

  Peering out the helicopter’s window, Madelyn said a silent prayer that her plan would work. Below, the jagged island landscape of cliffs fell into the water, giant waves crashed against the edges of the land, and aged trees were twisted over by years of harsh winds. And high on top of a hill that was afforded only a little protection from the ring of hills behind it, sat Ruxthorn Manor.

  Home of Samuel Ruxthorn, world famous mystery author and recluse. Owner of eyes that were slate-grey and endless, that could dance with amusement, or burn with passion. The man who refused to set her free.

  A foolish shiver of anticipation ran up her spine. “Here goes nothing,” she whispered.

  The helicopter swayed in the winds as it came in lower to land on the small private island off the southern coast of Tasmania, and Maddy saw two figures at the edge of the private helipad. One was a large, scruffy Irish Wolfhound. The other, with his shirt plastered to his tall frame by the blistering winds, was waiting for his new assistant to arrive. He was in for a surprise.

  The only thing Samuel hated more than surprises was Christmas. And, maybe, her.

  She braced herself as they touched down—partly for the landing, and partly for what was to follow it.

  “You’re good to go, Maddy.”

  “Thanks, Craig.” She turned to look at the pilot and couldn’t stop a spontaneous smile at the sight of the headset clamped over a red and white Santa hat. “Have a lovely Christmas.”

  “You, too. And give the Grinch my best for the season.”

  “Sure.” Her urge to smile vanished.

  Maddy took off her headset, then wrenched the door open and grabbed her duffel bag. Heart thumping double-time, she jumped out onto the tarmac and ducked under the slowing rotor blades. Her hair whipped around her face as she made her way over to the man who watched her with his arms crossed over his broad chest. The almighty scowl on his rugged face told her he’d recognized her. Impossibly, her heartbeat picked up even more speed.

  She spoke loudly, over the sound of the helicopter. “Good afternoon, Samuel.”

  “I’m not sure what game you and Father Christmas are playing,” he growled. “I asked for a new assistant, not an ex-wife.”

  “Ex-wife” was almost accurate—but unexpectedly painful. The reaction was unnerving since making it accurate was the reason for her visit. She straightened her spine and smiled as widely as she could. “It must be your lucky day. You got both.”

  The Irish Wolfhound, who’d been trembling with excitement, finally broke ranks and rushed to her. Maddy knelt and scratched behind his scruffy ears. “How’ve you been, Lochie?” She was rewarded with a long lick up the side of her cheek. “At least someone’s in a good mood,” she murmured to the dog then stood again to face his human.

  Samuel took a step closer, then another, until he was practically looming over her, his sensual mouth set in a grim line. “Besides the fact that we both know you have a job, this position requires the person to type, follow orders and stay out of my way. None of which are your specialties.”

  “I can type,” she teased, albeit with her poker face. “And I know how you like your coffee.”

  “I drink tea now.”

  She couldn’t resist batting her lashes. Just a little. “Given up all your vices, Samuel?”

  “Only two. Coffee and you.”

  The helicopter’s blades started spinning faster and Samuel looked up. “Hey,” he called and waved his arms, but Maddy gave Craig a thumbs up and he nodded to her and took off. Samuel’s body seemed to vibrate with tension. “I’ll kill him.”

  “No you won’t. Your sister loves him, and you love your sister. Besides, don’t be the Grinch everyone thinks you are. Cut him a break, it’s Christmas.”

  “Even more reason.”

  Maddy swallowed her retort. From their very first Christmas together, back when they’d been dating, he’d made it clear he hated the festive season, and nothing she said was going to change that. Arguing with him was going to make this all the harder. She needed to focus on the purpose of her visit. This lockdown was her only choice. Her last ditch stand with her stubborn beast of a husband. She needed it to succeed; she needed to move forward with her life. To start living again.

  “You’re not staying here.”

  She covered her eyes from the shards of sunlight that peeked through the clouds. The departing helicopter was now just a speck in the distance, but her focus was on her peripheral vision where she could see her husband. No question, he wouldn’t take this well—he hated being backed into a corner—but she’d run out of options. “It’s not like there are any hotels—or even other houses—on the island, so it appears that I am.”

  He stared at her a long moment until the anger seemed to drain out of him, leaving
only exasperation. “Why have you come, Maddy?”

  “You asked for another assistant,” she said, side-stepping the truth for now. She needed a divorce, something he’d been refusing to agree to. It was imperative she talked to him when he was calm and reasonable, two things he clearly wasn’t in the mood for yet. “Tell me something, Samuel. Why do your assistants only last a couple of weeks at a time? Have you turned into the big bad wolf?”

  His eyes flashed like the devil’s. “Honey, I was always the big bad wolf.”

  “I suppose you were.” There had always been something wild and untamable about him, even the tuxedo he’d worn on their wedding day hadn’t hidden that. And here, surrounded by the raw power of nature, she could well believe he was a wolf in man’s clothing. “At least it suits you.”

  His eyebrows slashed down. “You haven’t answered my question.”

  “I came to assist.” She picked up the duffel bag and swung it over her shoulder.

  “You, a commercial artist, are prepared to type up my notes, do some research and reply to emails?”

  She flashed him a smile. “Don’t forget organizing grocery deliveries. I’m good at shopping.”

  “Emma wouldn’t have sent you,” he said, his eyes narrowing.

  Actually, his older sister Emma—who’d been organizing his assistants from the mainland—had been thrilled Maddy wanted to see him, obviously hoping for a Christmas reunion. When Maddy had been compelled to come clean and tell her sister-in-law she wanted Samuel’s signature on divorce papers, sweetheart that she was, Emma had still helped organize the helicopter flight with her pilot husband.

  “I heard sea air was good for the complexion,” she said instead.

  “You’re here with some nefarious scheme in mind that I won’t like.”

  “Your mother always said you were bright.” In fact, his mother had told her that he was a genius, and Maddy had been completely unsuitable for him. To give the other woman her due, it had turned out she’d been right on that one.

  “Tell me, am I still getting an assistant?” he asked through a tight jaw, and planted his hands low on his hips.

  Maddy paused, unexpectedly savoring the sliver of time where Samuel needed something from her again—even if it was only information—then decided to cut him a break. “She’s booked on a morning flight.”

  He nodded once, satisfied at least with that aspect. Then he blew out a sharp breath. “Whatever you’re doing here, it won’t work.”

  “Sure it will.” She crossed her arms under her breasts as the breeze whipped up again. “So, where do the workers sleep?”

  “There’s a room made up for the new assistant. But you’re not her.” He stood, solid and imposing—he could teach a mountain a thing or two about being immovable.

  “Are you inviting me into your own room, Samuel?” she said before she’d thought it through, then bit down on her lip.

  “I’m not even inviting you into my house, Madelyn.”

  Hearing her name in his gravel-rough voice still had the power to undo her, but she ignored it and focused on her tasks…

  One: get invited inside.

  Two: talk to a calmer Samuel.

  Three: get him to sign the papers.

  Four: start her new life.

  “There are probably wolves out here,” she said, casting a glance around the trees for effect, despite them both knowing there were no wolves in the whole of Australia.

  “As you pointed out, there will be a wolf inside. Call Emma and get Craig’s butt back here now.”

  She moved the duffel bag to her other shoulder. “He said it was the last trip of the day. The light will be gone.” Samuel had a motorboat but she knew he wouldn’t risk the rough waters at this time of day either.

  He cursed under his breath. “You chose this time on purpose.”

  “How well you know me,” she said in her sweetest voice. “Seems I’m here for the night.”

  His eyes shut tight for a long moment, then opened to reveal blazing determination. “One night. You’ll return on the helicopter that brings my actual assistant in the morning, even if I have to put you on it myself.”

  Her gaze drifted to his hands, still low on his hips, and she was flooded with memories of him using them to put her other places, such as the table top.

  The kitchen counter.

  His lap.

  Goosebumps rose across her skin.

  “You always were charm personified,” she said in her best old time movie star voice. “I can see why I married you.”

  She really should try to get along with him. She didn’t have time to play games, but even after three long years, something sparked to life inside her when she sparred with Samuel Ruxthorn. Yet, if she wanted his signature on the divorce papers in her bag so she could move on with her life, get married, start a family, she’d have to try harder at playing nice. At being conciliatory instead of contrary.

  “One night, Maddy. I mean it.” He stalked off, Lochie trailing at his heels.

  She watched him go and sighed. “Great start, Maddy. Got some real peace on Earth and goodwill to all men buzz happening,” she murmured and trudged after him, praying she’d done the right thing, because, like it or not, her one-night lockdown with Samuel had begun.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Keeping his temper in check through sheer force of will, Samuel strode into his kitchen and flicked the switch on the electric kettle. After the events of the last twenty minutes, he’d prefer a scotch, but he needed to have his wits about him for whatever was still to come with Maddy. There was always more to the story with Maddy.

  Footsteps sounded on the stone-tile floor as he grabbed his mug off the draining board. Lochie, the traitor, jumped from the basket he’d dropped into only seconds before and danced around Maddy’s feet. And wasn’t this just like old times? Well, like old times while being nothing like them. Having her so close but not being able to touch her was pure, excruciating torture.

  Samuel swore under his breath. Much as the idea pained, he’d been thrust into the role of host. But he was drawing a line after he provided a bed—on the other side of the house to his. She knew where the food was kept, and she’d be out of here in the morning.

  He reached into the cupboard and grabbed a second mug. A cheerful reindeer smiled at him from the glossy china, its ridiculous red nose almost glowing. Hell. Maddy’s Christmas mug. He gripped the smooth surface till his knuckles turned white. What malign spirit had made his hand find that particular mug? Scrap that. Not a malign spirit at all—his last assistant had been intent on bringing out the Christmas decorations, including various bits of china. She’d resigned after he hit the roof when he saw what she was doing.

  He should have simply thrown out the decorations and dropped the mug.

  He could drop it now…

  Instead he thrust it to the back of the cupboard and selected another one.

  Sixteen hours, tops. Then she’d be gone. He could survive that.

  He winced. Sixteen hours, most of them night-time. Shadowed hours, minutes, seconds of dark temptation with Madelyn Walker sleeping under his roof. Of Maddy being closer than she’d been in three years, but off-limits to him. The tug-of-war between those two things inside him might just send him into meltdown.

  Out the window, the wind was mercilessly whipping the trees and scattering the leaves it managed to dislodge. He’d swap places with those trees in a heartbeat—it was safer out there than being here, so close to the one thing he wanted more than any other but could never have. His wife.

  “Tea?” he asked, gaze still on the damned lucky trees getting shredded by Mother Nature.

  “Yes, please.”

  Sucking in a fortifying breath, he turned back to his evening’s fate. He took the kettle of boiled water, a basket of tea bags and the two mugs and dumped the lot on the old wooden table. “Help yourself.”

  As she took in the variety of high-end tea bags, her eyes widened. He’d surprised her. Good. Ha
d she expected to march back into his life, dark curls rioting about her face like she’d just woken in his bed, insinuate herself into his Wednesday evening two days before Christmas, and find things the way they’d been before? He wasn’t the same man she’d walked out on three years ago, and he wanted her fully aware of the fact. He wasn’t the man who’d been so dazzled by her from the day they’d met that he’d barely thought straight since. Wasn’t the man who’d started to believe in happily ever afters.

  “You weren’t joking about taking up tea,” she said, looking up at him.

  He took a tea bag and tossed it in a mug before adding water. “I don’t joke.”

  “You used to,” she said, her whiskey-brown eyes far too speculative for his comfort.

  “Times change. People change.” He rested a hip on the edge of the table and surveyed her. “Why are you really here?”

  “I came to see you.”

  For a split second, his treacherous heart leapt up high in his chest, until he squashed its betrayal. She didn’t want him—that had been clear since the day she left. If there were parts of him that were yet to accept the message, then he’d simply have to try harder.

  He took a mouthful of scalding tea and swallowed before replying. “You couldn’t get away from me fast enough last time we were together.”

  She unzipped the light jacket she’d worn against the wind, shrugged out of the sleeves and threw it over the back of a dining chair. “I need you to do something for me.”

  “You know I live to serve you,” he said, heavy on the sarcasm.

  “I want a divorce, Samuel.” She leaned on the back of the chair that held her jacket, eyes steady on his.

  He stilled, even his heart seemed unable to beat, his lungs unable to draw breath. Divorce. Damn how he hated that word and the failure it implied. The finality of it. The death of the most precious thing in his adult life.

  Then his heart burst back into action. Of course this was why she’d come—she’d served him with divorce papers three times already. He’d burned them. He kept very still, unwilling to divulge his deepest feelings to Maddy of all people.

  “Why?” he asked and gulped his tea.