His By Christmas. Teresa Southwick

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      “Okay.” He set the crutches on the cement patio beside him and rested his injured leg on the chair’s matching ottoman.

      There was a refreshing breeze blowing off the ocean that gently rustled the nearby palm trees. The sun was an orange-yellow ball that seemed to be disappearing into the sea, and twilight crept closer, kept at bay by the villa’s outside lights. Cal let out a sigh as some of the tension left him. It really was a pretty place. But...

      “Aren’t you getting bored?” he asked.

      “No.”

      “How can you just sit there?” He studied her delicate profile and the beautiful fiery-colored hair blowing off her face. “I know you said you’re filling up your soul, but how can you tell when it’s sufficiently topped off?”

      She met his gaze and there was amusement in hers. “It takes longer when there are interruptions.”

      “Do you set a timer?” he asked, warming to his cross-examination.

      She ignored the question and stated the obvious. “You’re restless.”

      “Because I’m not doing anything.”

      “Letting your body rest and rejuvenate is actually doing something.”

      “Doesn’t feel that way,” he grumbled.

      “I have an idea. Why don’t you try counting your breaths? That will give you something to focus on.”

      Besides her? When he could smell the scent of her skin in spite of the strong fragrance of tropical flowers and the sea all around? “Why would I want to focus on counting my breaths?”

      “Inhale deeply,” she instructed without answering. “And let it out slowly. Then concentrate on the rising and falling of your chest. Up and down is one breath. Give it a try.”

      “This is silly.”

      “There you go,” she said. “I knew you would have an open mind.”

      “You’re trying to spirit-shame me.”

      “Is it working?” There was laughter in her voice.

      “Yeah, kind of.”

      “Good. Go with it.”

      “Okay.” He did as instructed and drew in a deep breath, then released it and noted the rise and fall of his chest. “One... Two... Three...”

      “Silent counting would be better,” she advised.

      “Am I distracting you?”

      “Yes.”

      Right back at you, he thought. She was the personification of distraction. If being a diversion was part of an employee review, she would get very high marks. Now that he thought about it, she was pretty good at her job, too. She worked very hard and was incredibly efficient. His vacationing assistant should be worried about the competition.

      That was a bluff. Shanna was excellent at what she did, and the best part was that when she was in the office, he never once thought about her any way but appropriately. Why was that? She was attractive, single, smart and funny. What combination of attributes made Justine such a challenge to his concentration?

      The only thing he could come up with was that karma had a lousy sense of humor.

      “You’ve been very quiet.” Justine finally broke the silence.

      “I thought that’s what you wanted.”

      “It’s what you needed,” she said mysteriously.

      “That’s news to me. And it makes you sound like a Tibetan monk,” he added.

      “It takes a while to get the hang of the technique in order to free your mind. But you did very well with the breathing.”

      He laughed. “Breathing is easy. If you can’t do that, you’ve got bigger problems than filling up your soul.”

      “I’ll make a convert of you yet. And I’ve got a month to do it.” Justine got up and used the outside entrance to go into her suite.

      Cal watched her go and admired the sexy movement of her hips in spite of the slight limp. His pulse jumped and his mouth went dry. There was breathing and there was heavy breathing. Justine could easily push him in the second direction. He’d teased her and she gave it right back, but he wanted her and it wasn’t a joking matter.

      This whole bet started when his brother needled him about his lack of a sex life. Right now the truth Cal had denied was painfully clear.

      * * *

      The next morning, Justine showered and got ready for work, still a little in awe of her suite and surroundings. She had as much connection to luxury on this scale as she did to a unicorn. Sand and sea were just steps away, for goodness’ sake. The man providing this villa was also just steps away and he presented a whole different scale of excess. She really didn’t know what to make of him.

      When she’d lost her husband and little girl in the accident, it was the aloneness that nearly crushed her. Family and friends tried to help, but she had to fight through by herself. And she had, but there were reminders in Texas. When Hart Energy announced the move to Blackwater Lake, Justine looked at it as an opportunity for a change of scene and the chance to start a new life.

      Physical therapy and yoga had helped heal her body and she’d resigned herself to being alone. Like last night on the patio. Then Cal had joined her and that had an effect. He’d actually attempted to master the conscious breathing technique. It was endearing, really.

      Other than wanting everyone around him to work as hard as he did, the man was a good boss and very considerate. Too much of everything if she was being honest. Too handsome, funny, smart and sexy for any breathing technique she was aware of to relax her when he was nearby.

      She studied her appearance in the bathroom mirror. “There’s only one thing to do. Work hard and forget he’s around.”

      Except they didn’t work until after breakfast. Cal had given her the option of room service by herself, but having resort staff deliver two separate meals seemed excessive. When she walked into the villa’s main area, breakfast was being set out on the dining room table. He signed for it and the staff wheeled away the cart and left.

      Leaning on his crutches, Cal looked everything over, then met her gaze. “Breakfast is served.”

      “Good morning. It looks wonderful.”

      “It would be even better if you ordered something besides oats and dried grapes.”

      “Better known as raisins. And that’s granola to you. I happen to really like it.”

      “You might want to consider expanding your culinary horizons.”

      “I will,” she promised, then spotted the cup and saucer. There was steam wafting from the top. “Coffee. A girl could get used to this.”

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