His Christmas Eve Proposal. Carole Mortimer

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      CONTENTS

       Cover

       About the Author

       Title Page

      CHAPTER ONE

      CHAPTER TWO

      CHAPTER THREE

      CHAPTER FOUR

      CHAPTER FIVE

      CHAPTER SIX

       CHAPTER SEVEN

       CHAPTER EIGHT

       CHAPTER NINE

       CHAPTER TEN

       CHAPTER ELEVEN

       CHAPTER TWELVE

       CHAPTER THIRTEEN

       CHAPTER FOURTEEN

       Copyright

       CHAPTER ONE

      ‘JUST leave the coffee on the side, Donald, thanks.’ Hawk called out from his bathroom to his English factotum, after he’d heard the other man knock on his bedroom door before entering. ‘I’ll be out in a couple of minutes,’ he added, as he continued to towel-dry his hair after taking his morning shower, not expecting an answer; Donald Harrison was efficiency personified, and Hawk congratulated himself once again for having found the man ten years ago.

      He continued humming to himself as, draping the towel about his shoulders, he took a couple of seconds to contemplate the view from his bathroom window, relishing the blanket of snow that swept across the whole of the foothills towards the Canadian Rockies, which he could see towering majestically in the distance.

      Home. It was a stark contrast to the warmth he had left behind in Los Angeles yesterday; he’d been able to feel the biting cold as soon as he stepped out at Calgary airport last night. But Hawk had dressed with the Canadian weather in mind, his sheepskin jacket, faded denims and the boots that had seemed so out of place in Los Angeles ideal for the refreshing coldness that he’d known he would find here.

      He instantly felt part of the impending festive season now that he had the weather to go with it. It was unthinkable for him to even contemplate spending Christmas anywhere else but here. No matter where he was in the world, he always flew back to what had once been the family home for the holidays.

      His parents now lived in Florida, as the warmth there was much kinder to the arthritis his father suffered after years of working on the land. They would arrive in three days’ time at the five acres and house that were all that remained of the family farm. Hawk’s younger sister and her husband—the city slicker—would fly in from Vancouver at the weekend, with their two young children.

      No doubt the scores of female fans who avidly followed the movie career of Joshua Hawkley would find his family Christmas a pretty tame affair, probably imagining him instead to be on some Caribbean island, soaking up the sun on a golden beach and drinking piña coladas with a half-naked female at his side!

      The half-naked female didn’t sound half bad, but the rest of it could take a hike.

      He turned to study his reflection in the slightly steamed-up mirror over the sink, rubbing the dark stubble on his chin as he debated whether or not to shave. He decided not; he had three more days before the parents arrived to just wind down and relax after all the razzmatazz that had gone along with attending his latest movie premiere last weekend, and not shaving was part of that process.

      No doubt his mother would have some comment to make about his longer hair, though, he acknowledged ruefully as he looked at the dishevelled damp locks that rested on the broad width of his shoulders. He was due to start filming the longawaited sequel to The Pirate King next month, and had grown his dark hair in preparation for the part.

      If they could find a replacement leading lady, that was. A five months pregnant female pirate captain wouldn’t exactly look right, and Hawk’s schedule was such that filming couldn’t be delayed until after the baby’s birth.

      Oh, well—that was the director Nik Prince’s problem, not his. Hawk shrugged dismissively to himself as he strolled through to his bedroom.

      ‘Donald, I think I might—who the hell are you?’ Hawk rasped. He came to an abrupt halt in the bathroom doorway to stare across the room at the young woman standing in front of the window and drawing back his bedroom curtains.

      There was no mistaking that she was a woman. Her long red waist-length hair gave that away, flowing down the slenderness of her spine the colour of rippling fire against a body-hugging black sweater.

      But even without the hair it was impossible not to recognise that the tall, leggy figure belonged to a female. Her skin-tight black denims were doing everything they could to prove the point, Hawk saw with a frown.

      At the same time he knew there shouldn’t be a female—tall and leggy or otherwise—within several miles of here!

      Rosie had turned at the first sound of the unmistakable, sexily husky voice of the actor Joshua Hawkley, taking in a sharp breath as she found herself gazing upon his nakedness.

      Joshua Hawkley, thirty-five years old, the most sought-after film star in the world for over a decade, was standing in front of her—gorgeously, gloriously and magnificently naked!

      Her throat felt dry, her lips and tongue numb, as she continued to stare at him with wide green eyes.

      She had never been the sort of teenager—had never been allowed to be the sort of teenager!—who’d hung posters of pop and film stars on her bedroom wall. But if she had, this man would definitely have had pride of position!

      Joshua Hawkley—or simply Hawk to his friends—at a height СКАЧАТЬ