Mistletoe Not Required. Anne Oliver

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СКАЧАТЬ Brie laughed. ‘Nothing like that. But he’s in the media—’

      ‘Famous?’ Olivia nodded slowly. ‘I’d know him.’

      ‘Livvie, you’ve been so focused on your work and studies and getting Snowflake up and going these past few years, I doubt it. And you really know how to deflect the conversation away from you.’

      ‘I told you. Okay, I didn’t tell you.’ She lowered the window to let the breeze cool her face. ‘We didn’t... But he... I...’ She smiled—she couldn’t help it. ‘It truly was an orgasmic experience.’

      ‘Wow.’

      ‘Totally.’ But Olivia’s buoyancy faded and something not so cheerful hooked in her chest. She pushed it away hard and joked, ‘Sinner-Santas are strictly for Christmas Eve. They disappear in a twinkle of Santa’s sleigh bell at midnight. And...’ she checked her watch ‘...Christmas Eve’s over.’

      It was officially Christmas Day. The two of them were supposed to be having Christmas lunch with the mysterious brother—if he bothered to turn up. And Boxing Day it was all hands on deck, meaning if he didn’t show Brie wouldn’t catch up with him for days. ‘You’ve heard nothing from Jett?’

      She gave a tight shrug. ‘He texted he was on his way to the party. Since then, nothing.’

      ‘He knows you’re in the race, doesn’t he?’

      ‘Yeah. He was coming to Sydney anyway, so I suggested we could celebrate the festive day together. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea.’

      ‘He’ll turn up, Brie. And I can’t wait to meet him.’

      * * *

      Well, if that didn’t take the celebration cake. Jett watched her flee, red hair flying, relieved he hadn’t gone any further. Still, it could’ve been an even hotter night in the city—if he hadn’t found out who she was. He shifted his stance to accommodate the swelling in his trousers that wasn’t likely to subside any time soon.

      Trouble in strawberry lace D-cups. In the flesh.

      And there’d been an abundance of that. Smooth and creamy and damn. Dragging off the feathers she’d left around his neck, he stuffed them in his back pocket. He could smell her skin—apricots and cucumber.

      He might have followed, if only to return her shoes—then persuade her that the festivities should be extended a few hours because it was still Christmas Eve somewhere in the world—until he’d heard her mention his name. His name.

      He’d been fooling around with Breanna’s friend.

      A harsh bark of laughter escaped. What were the odds? Walking to the balcony, he searched out the driveway mostly hidden by a corner of the house. He caught sight of Breanna in the car’s headlights. He didn’t have to wait long to see a flash of red zip past her and disappear into the car.

      The car accelerated down the drive and he turned away, facing into the breeze blowing up from the harbour. He needed to cool off. One minute without an audience—he shifted again—better make that five minutes. The excruciating pity of it all was she’d had no idea who he was and he might have enjoyed an evening—and a hell of a lot more—with someone who wasn’t out for his name and fame.

      Breanna’s friend.

      Sexy.

      Available.

      Not a good idea.

      He scowled at the wall where she’d come apart beneath his hand, dress hiked, thighs quivering and her moans of pleasure sobbing on the air. The scent of her arousal lingered. Hell. He’d be lucky if he slept a wink tonight.

      He’d known she was trouble the instant he’d clapped eyes on her.

      But—he couldn’t help but grin—trouble had never come in such a tempting package.

      THREE

      ‘This is the life.’

      After five days of hard slog on the harbour, Olivia was enjoying a traditional Christmas Day breakfast of champagne, strawberries and Danish pastries while a little light Christmas music played in the background. She wasn’t accustomed to inactivity but two days of R and R were well deserved and a necessary break before the hard work, both mental and physical, that the next few days would demand of them.

      Brie, looking as boneless as Olivia felt on the other recliner, studied the forest-green lacquered toenails as she wiggled them in front of her. ‘This is so not the life; you’d be bored to distraction in a couple of days.’

      ‘True. I should wander down to the gym in a bit.’

      ‘Nuh-uh.’ Brie nibbled on a croissant. ‘No workouts allowed today.’

      Olivia flopped back, almost relieved. She’d barely slept after all. ‘If you say so.’

      Jeez, she was so easily seduced. Seduced. Workout... Hot, steamy, sweaty— ‘The pool, then. A quick twenty laps.’

      Brie lifted her sunglasses off her nose to stare at her. ‘After this feast? I don’t think so. You’re just feeling the twitchy after-effects of last night’s indulgence with Secret Sinner-Santa.’

      A shiver of remembered delight danced down her spine and settled low and warm between her thighs. ‘You are so right. I never knew sinning was that much fun.’

      ‘Woo-hoo, now you do.’

      She’d been involved short-term with a guy a long time ago and it had been more about a loss of innocence than sinning—or even enjoyment, because with Jason there hadn’t been much enjoyment, for her at least. But since she and Brie had met at the hospice where Brie’s dad and Olivia’s mum were dying, she’d been so focused on getting Pink Snowflake up and running and her plans for a retreat, she’d had no time for guys, relationships. Sex.

      But last night... Olivia smiled. He’d whetted her appetite. It was as if that dormant part inside her had finally woken up and demanded breakfast.

      ‘He was good, then?’

      She sighed. ‘The man had the best hands. And he knew how to use them.’ She smiled, lost for an instant, reliving the pleasure. Heat spurted through her lower belly and she reached for her glass of sparkling mineral water. ‘The fact that he was built like a god was a bonus. He had these eyes...’ She blinked the images—him—away. He was long gone.

      And switched topics. ‘So Jett made it back here eventually.’ She’d heard him come in after she and Brie had said goodnight and had been tempted to go pour herself a glass of water from the kitchenette, just to sneak a peek. But she’d changed her mind when she heard their muffled voices through her closed door. She’d not wanted to intrude. ‘Was he lost?’

      ‘I don’t think so.’ Brie stirred her coffee. ‘What I can’t work out is that he said he’d made it to the party late and all would become clear.’

      ‘That’s cryptic,’ Olivia said.

      ‘Good morning.’

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