A Sinful Little Christmas. J. Margot Critch

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       CHAPTER ONE

      A WHITE-HOT RAGE filled Alana Carter, and with fire in her eyes, she looked over at her friends who’d assembled in the conference room. She should have known those motherfuckers-she-loved-like-brothers were up to something when they’d ambushed her in her office. “You did what?” she asked, forcing the words through her clenched teeth.

      “Lana,” Gabe started in a careful—almost gentle—way that made her want to reach across the table and smack him. “We all agree that you’ve been doing a great job running all of the properties.”

      “I know I have. Keep going,” she told him, seeing through his attempt to placate or pacify her.

      Rafael cleared his throat. She turned her stare on him. “We’ve noticed that you’ve been working really hard lately. We can tell you aren’t feeling well. You shouldn’t have to take it all on yourself. You need help. And you won’t let us.”

      “I’m feeling fine,” she insisted, without using any of the outrage or emotion she wanted to put behind the words. Lest they accuse her of being hysterical. Her heart pounded in her ears, and Alana tried her best to remain as outwardly cool as possible. In her career she’d crafted a poker face that could fool the most seasoned player. “I won’t let you?” she asked, a steeliness in her voice. “When would any of you have the time to do any of the things I do, or work the hours I keep? Between your own jobs, there are weddings to plan, social lives, family time…” She trailed off. She shook her head. “That doesn’t give you the right to hire some guy I don’t even know to replace me.”

      Brett was next to jump in. “Michael’s not replacing you,” he clarified. “We all agreed that bringing in another pair of hands would be a good idea. Especially since Scott left, since we’ve all been so busy with our personal lives.”

      Her head throbbed and she felt a pounding from her chest to her ears. Cursing Scott, former manager of Di Terrestres, who’d quit several months ago, she turned mad again. “You don’t have to talk to me like I’m a fucking child. It’s not my problem you have all stepped back from the business to focus on your personal lives, and relationships.” She spit out the last word as if it was poison on her tongue. She could hear the four distinct sighs of the men sitting around her, and one side of her mouth quirked up in a satisfied half smile, that she’d successfully annoyed them.

      “Alana,” Gabe started again. “Michael and I went to school together in London. He started and ran one of the hottest erotic clubs in London for several years. He’s an asset to us. He can really help us out over here. Especially with all the time you’ve been putting in at the hotel, the restaurants, and everything else you do. He could run Di Terrestres, take it off your plate with no problem at all. He knows what he’s doing.”

      Alana forced her gaze away from the Brotherhood, her friends and business partners, closing her eyes against the sunlight pouring in from the large panoramic windows. She remembered the bottle of medication in her desk drawer, СКАЧАТЬ