The Naughty List Bundle with The Night Before Christmas & Yule Be Mine. Fern Michaels

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      So, what should she do when the bubble burst, and they were forced to return to the real world, and the very real people in it? They were on opposing sides. Granted, she saw his side far more clearly…but the insight hadn’t changed her opinion on his proposed changes to her home.

      “Should I bring the larger cake over now?” he asked, as he gracefully took the tray of cupcakes she’d finished detailing and slid them onto the last storage rack. “Is the fondant soft enough for rolling?”

      She smiled at that. “Listen to you, sounding like a pastry chef.”

      He shrugged, but smiled. “Not me. Growing up, I never fancied making desserts. Was always far more attracted to chopping things up, I suppose.”

      “Well, you’d have made a good baker. You’ve got the hands for it.”

      He laughed outright. The sound of it was rich, melodious, and surprisingly infectious, much like his voice. “These hams?” He held them up, the latex gloves he was wearing stretching tightly over his knuckles.

      “You’re surprisingly graceful with them,” she said, her tone as dry as her smile. But she’d been sincere with the compliment. “If you ever decide to give up your burgeoning empire and the need to make the world over, I could use them here. A little bit of time and training, and I daresay you’d soon be challenging me as lead baker.” She cocked her head. “Goodness knows what kind of innovative things your mind could come up with. We could put Cups & Cakes on the map.”

      She’d been teasing, but hadn’t expected his expression to change like it did. She’d expected, maybe, some double entendre about her needing his hands, had—maybe—said something along those lines for that very reason. She just…was mixed up and turned on and tired out.

      She wasn’t prepared at all for the way his expression grew serious, or the way he took her shoulders in his big hands and turned her gently but firmly so he could trap her between him and the table.

      She didn’t reject the invasion of privacy. Hell, her body was all but throwing a welcome party. If she were being honest, she’d wanted his hands on her again since the damn oven beeper had gone off hours ago. But the look in his eyes wasn’t sensual, or even predatory, though it felt like both to her. He was just…serious.

      “You need to know something, Melody.”

      “What?” she said faintly. Her thoughts were all jumbled up with the riotous reactions his touch was setting off. She wished she could be more collected, more cool, but the simple truth was that despite the very civilized couple of hours they’d spent together, she was feeling anything but cool with him. No matter how well she got to know him, the civilized him, she’d bet there would always be that less-than-civilized element between them. Beneath all the refinement, he was still rough. In all the ways that appealed to every primal instinct she had. “Wh-what is it?”

      “About the town, about…”

      That jerked her thoughts back to some semblance of sanity. “Hamilton? What—what are you talking about?”

      “You need to know, should know, but—dammit.” He broke off, looked down, but didn’t release her.

      “Griffin?”

      He lifted his gaze to hers. She’d never seen him so serious. She remembered his earlier comment after she’d asked him what the big rush was to change Hamilton into some resort town. The alarm she’d felt then was nothing compared to the sudden, sick squeeze that knotted her stomach.

      “I know we’ve danced a lot around the idea of trust,” she began, “but if you think this affects my life here, my future—”

      “I don’t think,” he said quietly. “I know.”

      “So—”

      “So, you’re right. We’ve talked about trust. I need to know I have yours, Melody. To allow me to handle this my own way, on my timetable. I realize now”—he stopped, then started again before she could say anything—“we want to fix things, and we will. But explaining everything would cause panic, fear. This way—”

      “Who is we?”

      “Lionel.”

      “And you.” She’d made it a statement.

      He nodded. “Yes. He had things that needed working out, solutions that he wasn’t finding. Then I came along and—”

      “Offered him those solutions.”

      “Basically, yes.”

      “Because Hamilton Industries is in trouble.”

      He simply held her gaze.

      The knot of dread returned. “Does it have something to do with you being Trudy’s grandson? There’s been talk of Lionel using a chunk of the Haversham fortune to save Hamilton Industries. He came into all of Trudy’s money eventually. Money that would have rightfully been—”

      “That was a long time ago. And no, I’m not trying to swindle the old man out of his empire. I was happy building my own. I came here to understand where I came from.”

      To his credit, he didn’t get angry or insulted at the question, but simply answered it directly. She liked that. He wasn’t hotheaded or overly sensitive. She’d thought, given the scars, that he might be. She liked that he had himself under control. But just barely. Yes, she admitted, she liked that part, too.

      “What has Lionel offered you?”

      “That’s just it, Melody. Everyone thinks I popped up out of nowhere, the lost grandson of an heiress, come to claim his fortune. And that Lionel is an old man with no heirs of his own, at least none who are willing to take on what he spent a lifetime sustaining and building. It’s a huge burden, the one he was handed. Don’t get me wrong, I know it was a challenge he relished. He’s made life tough on Trevor for not being willing to take on what he sees as Trevor’s rightful duties. Duties Trevor walked away from. The way Lionel sees it, Trevor essentially thumbed his nose not only at the family fortune but the family itself. Seems he wasn’t too keen on playing Lionel’s game.”

      “Are you?”

      “I like knowing I’ve made a difference. And yes, I bloody well like to succeed. If success brings along creature comforts, I’m not going to play martyr or live like a monk. I worked hard for what I have. But ’tis no’ the gain that motivates me, Melody.”

      “It does Lionel.”

      “Aye, it does seem so. He doesn’t understand a man like Trevor.”

      “Do you? How well do you know him?”

      “We’ve spent time together. I met with him before meeting Lionel. To answer your question, yes, I do. I respect his desire to live life on his own terms.”

      Melody’s gaze sharpened then. “You’re a lot alike, the two of you, aren’t you? Only your terms are more in line with Lionel’s than Trevor’s.”

      He nodded, a glint of respect in his eyes. “’Tis true. Thank you for no’ sayin’ that as if it’s something to be ashamed СКАЧАТЬ