Loe raamatut: «I'll Be Yours for Christmas»

“Are you up for a little adventure?”

Reece remembered how excited Abby had been, and it had been just as hot for him, too. Did she still want that?

“It’s been building between us ever since we were kids, Abby. It’s time we took a chance on us.”

Needing her answer right then, he pulled her up close to him, his hands traveling up her back and into her hair.

It was like silk. He wanted to feel it trailing over his shoulders, his chest, everywhere.

The thought made his kiss less introductory, less tentative, than it might have been otherwise.

He took her soft lips and opened her mouth, swallowing a deep moan that came from her immediately. She felt so right, but better, the flames leaping between them were incredibly hot.

Her arms went around his neck, and she twined her tongue with his, as she strained to meet his every move.

He’d take that as a yes.

Dear Reader,

Christmas can be one of the most romantic times of the year, but the holidays can also bring enormous stress. What better way to escape it all than with a hot romance? That’s what my heroine, Abby, is thinking, when she decides to give herself a little much-needed Christmas cheer by having a holiday fling with the boy next door, Reece Winston.

Reece is happy to oblige, as he’s never quite forgotten the pretty friend he always teased in school, but now Abby is all grown up, and Reece wants to make up for lost time. Neither one of them anticipates falling in love, but Christmas is a time for surprises, too.

Best of the season to you and your family, whichever holiday you celebrate. I hope you enjoy I’ll Be Yours for Christmas (maybe with a nice glass of wine or hot chocolate), and that Abby and Reece’s story can offer you a little escape from the hustle and bustle, as well.

Happy holidays,

Samantha Hunter

About the Author

SAMANTHA HUNTER lives in Syracuse, New York, where she writes full-time. When she’s not plotting her next story, Sam likes to work in her garden, quilt, cook, read and spend time with her husband and their dogs. Most days you can find Sam chatting on the Blaze^® boards online at eHarlequin.com, or you can check out what’s new, enter contests or drop her a note at her website, www.samanthahunter.com.

I’ll be Yours

for Christmas

Samantha Hunter

www.millsandboon.co.uk

1

ABBY HARPER’S EYES clung to the man who stood not twenty feet away, dressed in an expensive silk suit that glided over his broad chest and muscled arms like water over rock.

Reece Winston.

She frowned, watching the restaurant hostess sidle up a little closer than necessary, making sure Reece had a clear view down the deep V of her low-cut blouse.

Abby couldn’t blame her, not really, taking in the impressive figure Reece made as he turned, noticing the way the tailored pants clung to a perfect masculine ass that had her fingers itching to reach out for a squeeze.

She knew just how it would feel. She’d been there, done that.

Almost, anyway.

Once, a long, long time ago. How unfair—or pathetic—was it that she could remember the feel of one man’s backside from eight years before?

To his credit, Reece barely seemed to notice the hostess, as he was deep in conversation with a small, hawkish man who stood beside him. Abby had heard Reece was home but hadn’t seen him around, even though he lived next door.

That wasn’t unusual. He’d come home a few times over the years since he’d left for life in Europe, but their paths had never intersected. She’d been off to school, or busy working at her parents’ winery, and Reece had his life as a famous race car driver on the Formula One circuit. With the differences between their two lives, the half a mile between their homes might as well have been a thousand.

This was the first time she’d actually seen him anywhere but in a local newspaper or television sports report. Her heart beat a little too quickly for her liking. So she turned her attention away, though she wasn’t really looking at the crowds milling around the Ithaca Commons, the artsy, outdoor shopping plaza in the heart of the small central New York city.

It was almost a month before Christmas, the Friday after Thanksgiving, which she had spent catching up on inventory. Abby and her friend Hannah were meeting here for lunch, something Abby had been looking forward to all week. Some downtime and a chance to forget about work for an hour or so.

Some light snow fell, blowing and circling around the booted feet of shoppers and local shopkeepers who were moving around the walkway. She hardly noticed. Her mind insisted on reminiscing about Reece.

She’d only kissed him once, on a crazy, wine-drenched evening one summer when he’d been home from college, the semester before he took off for Europe. They were both at the same lakeside party given by a mutual friend. Even then, Reece ran with a crowd way out of Abby’s league.

Abby had been seeing Josh Martin back then, a graduate student from Cornell Veterinary College who helped out at their vineyard, where they also hosted a small petting zoo with goats and sheep. Josh was a great guy. Cute.

Abby had been lying in wait by a dense hedgerow, intent on seducing her date. When she pulled the man she thought was Josh into the quiet, dark spot, she didn’t give him a chance to say anything. She kissed him in clear invitation before he could say a word.

Abby discovered early on that she liked some kink with her sex, and Josh had a kind of quiet reserve that she took as a challenge. Sex outdoors at a party, with people right on the other side of the hedge, was an exciting thought for her, but she knew her mild-mannered date would have to be convinced.

She had pretty much made her way around second base heading for third when she told him how pleased she was with his sense of adventure and wondered what other experiments he might be up for.

Reece had chuckled softly and whispered in her ear that he would be happy to try anything she wanted to suggest.

She’d recognized his voice, and her mistake, immediately.

It had been so humiliating. Even now, her cheeks burned to think of it. She’d popped out from the hedges without even fixing her clothes, much to the amusement of some onlookers in the yard. Reece walked out, too, completely unapologetic with his shirt still unbuttoned, his eyes hot and the top button of his jeans undone. The button she had been undoing when he’d spoken up.

Worse, as furious as she was, she’d wanted to go back behind that hedge and finish what they’d started. Reece smiled and told her to lighten up, that he wouldn’t have let it go too far. She imagined he and his buddies had a great laugh about it later.

Then he told her that Josh had received an emergency phone call and had to leave suddenly. Josh had asked Reece to find Abby and let her know. He’d started to say something else, but Abby had turned and left, and that was the last time she’d seen him, until now.

Reece had been her tormentor since childhood. The boy who always hid her lunchbox in the wrong locker, who tugged her pigtails and always, always rubbed it in that his parents’ vineyards were bigger, more profitable and better than her family’s smaller organic operation.

Though Reece teased her, he was never really mean. When she was fourteen, in fact, he defended her when another boy had been needlessly cruel about her braces, making her cry. Reece had almost punched the other boy, she remembered. Abby hated to admit it, but a secret, nasty little crush on him developed in that moment.

And he knew it.

And she knew that he knew, even when they both emerged back out from behind the hedge and he’d smiled at her so knowingly.

“Hey, earth to Abby?” The voice finally broke through as Hannah Morgan, her best friend since high school, returned to the table, sliding back into her seat.

Abby shook her head clear and blinked the past away.

“Sorry, lost in thought.”

“Yeah, I saw Reece at the door. From the roses blooming in your cheeks, I assume you did, too.”

Abby grunted. “It’s just warm in here.”

Hannah grinned widely. “Warmer since Reece walked in,” she said without shame, watching him where he sat across the room from them. “I guess he’s home because of what happened with his dad.”

“I’m kind of surprised to see him, really. He had a bad crash last spring and has been recovering ever since—it was really serious,” Abby said, shuddering as she remembered seeing the replay of the accident on the news. Reece had been on his way to superstardom, living a glamorous and high-profile life as a race car driver until the crash.

Hannah cocked an eyebrow. “I’d heard, but didn’t realize you followed racing that closely.”

“I just watch the news. And I might have read a few things online.”

“Well, he looks healthy and hale to me,” Hannah said with a playful leer.

Abby knew better than to look again, but did anyway, and sure enough, as soon as she peeked, Reece turned his head to look directly at her.

The shared look nearly sucked the breath out of her.

The years disappeared, and she was the crush-stricken teenager again. His eyes narrowed, and she knew that he recognized her, too, even though she was now twenty-five pounds lighter and her previously plain, boy-short brown hair was now long and layered, curling softly with honey-blond highlights, her one indulgence.

“Why does he have to be so hot?” Abby mumbled, deeply annoyed and digging in to the beautiful salad that a server set before her moments ago. Shoving a forkful of spinach and various greens, fresh pears, walnuts and blue cheese into her mouth, she barely tasted it. Reece’s fault.

“Hey, I think he’s coming over,” Hannah whispered across the table, looking up with a big smile as Reece approached them.

“What?” Abby sputtered, swallowing a mouthful of greens, promptly choking on her food as she saw Hannah was right. Abby coughed, reaching for her water, but suddenly strong hands had her from behind, spanning her rib cage and pulling her back against a rock-solid chest.

“I’m okay, I’m okay!” she insisted. She could sense the heat from his hands on her skin in spite of the sweater she wore over her blouse. His hold released, and she took a few breaths, composing herself.

“Abby?” he said in a voice that was deeper than she remembered, his breath just brushing the back of her neck.

She didn’t turn around, not yet. Picking up her water, she took a sip, using the moment to focus. Then, smoothing the front of her sweater, she faced him with a bright smile.

“Reece. How nice to see you,” she said, and was yet again flung back to those hedges as his gray eyes sparkled with warm recognition. He was remembering it, too, she could tell. Damn it. “Thanks for the first aid, but I really was okay,” she said.

“Glad to help,” he said. “So, Abby Harper, all grown up. No more pigtails or braces,” he said with a smile and a wink.

Her cheeks heated and she wanted to kick Hannah for grinning so broadly.

“I’m sorry to hear about your father. I hope he’s doing well,” Abby said, meaning it, determined to act like an adult.

She noticed a network of thin scars, recently healed, that ran along the side of his neck, and what looked like another behind his ear. “And you, too,” she continued. “That was an awful accident they showed on the news. I’m so glad you’re up and around. You look great,” she said, proud of herself for sounding so mature, like an old friend who was happy to see him again.

Reece’s expression became more serious. She thought he looked bigger now, more muscular than she remembered. She assumed that all race drivers kept to a rigorous fitness regimen and needed to be physically fit to withstand the physical and mental pressures of racing, but … wow.

Those beautiful, thick-lashed eyes were the same, as were the sharp cheekbones and full lips. She’d always loved how his pin-straight, raven-black hair had fallen in his eyes, a little long in the front, but now he kept it cropped short, which only accented his features all the more.

“Thank you. Dad’s recovering well. Doctors are very optimistic.”

He obviously didn’t want to discuss his own near miss, and she couldn’t say she blamed him. Regardless of his celebrity status, it couldn’t be fun to have your private life and health problems made into entertainment news.

Abby nodded. “Is he still at the hospital? I imagine he’d probably be happy to be back to work when he can.”

Reece frowned. “Actually, he won’t. The surgery was remarkably fast—they can do amazing things these days. He and Mom were only home for a few days, but they’re down with Ben now, in South Carolina. The doctors advised it, so that he’d be in an easier climate, closer to hospitals. They’ll live with Ben and his family for a while, which will make it easier on Mom. Then they plan to find a new place down there.”

“Oh,” she said, her reaction part surprise and part regret. She liked the Winstons and would have liked to have seen them before they left. They’d been good neighbors. “Who’s taking over the vineyards? You?”

It was what she’d done when her parents retired. They were off catching up on all of the travel they had put off all those years. Abby was happy for them and she loved the updates they sent her and posted on their Facebook pages. Her parents—world adventurers.

“Not exactly,” Reece said, looking cautious. “We’ve decided selling is the best option. I’m taking care of the details, though, and I have some buyers interested, but—”

“You’re selling?” she interrupted, in shock.

“Yes, I’m afraid so.”

“But, I thought … now that you’re not racing …”

Her misstep was reflected in the tightening of his expression.

“I want to be back to racing next year,” he said shortly. “As soon as possible, really. So there’s no choice but to sell. Which reminds me,” he said, glancing over at his table, “I have to get back to my meeting. I just wanted to say hello.”

“Oh,” was all Abby managed to say.

Reece’s expression shifted from cool to friendly again. Maybe a little too smoothly, in Abby’s estimation.

“It’s good to see you, though. Maybe we’ll get a chance to have a drink together over the holiday, catch up on old times. I should be home for the month, to see the sale through and finish things up here,” he said.

“Yeah, sure,” she responded, but he’d already turned to walk away. This time, she did notice a slight hitch in his gait and wondered about his injuries. Things might be happening behind the scenes that the public didn’t know about … still, she’d thought from what had been reported in the news and online that he was out of the sport.

“Wow, I can’t believe he’s selling,” Abby said again, her mind returning to that bombshell. There were some new start-ups along the lake, and some of the vineyards had closed over the years, but Maple Hills and Winston Vineyards were the two oldest in the area. “All the news said he was out of racing. His accident left him with injuries that simply won’t allow him back in.”

“He seems to think differently,” Hannah said absently.

Abby watched Reece sit down at his table and then turned to see Hannah worriedly chewing her lip.

“What?”

“I hope he hasn’t been talking with the Keller Corp. rep. The same guy who bought out Stevens and Harvest vineyards last year.”

Abby put her fork back down, her hands turning cold.

“No.”

“It’s a possibility.”

“He … can’t. He can’t sell to them. It would ruin Maple Hills!” As if selling wasn’t bad enough, selling to Keller would be a disaster.

Keller was a housing developer that had been buying up lakeside property and building cookie-cutter housing developments that ruined the area’s natural appeal. They didn’t care about the watershed or about the long tradition of wineries in the area. They didn’t care about anything, except for making money.

The runoff from pavement, lawn chemicals and the potential for septic leaks and so forth, would be awful for her business, ruining her land. Not to mention scarring the beautiful view of the lake.

“Every wedding couple we book wants to be married out on the vineyard, with the view of the lake. We’d lose them all if the backdrop is a bunch of prefab houses,” she said, shaking her head.

Even in the economic hard times, people still got married, and these days many of them decided to do so locally to save money. Her wedding bookings were up considerably, and that helped when wine sales were down. In fact, she was preparing for a wedding reception that was scheduled for two days before Christmas. Weddings and other special events had become a big part of her bottom line.

Harvey Winston, Reece’s father, hadn’t been an organic farmer, not strictly, but he used the least harmful methods available and made sure to observe a buffer between her grapes and his. And all of the vineyards worked to maintain the beauty of the landscape, as it was to their collective advantage.

No way would Keller Corp. care. In fact, if they drove her out, they would buy up her family business, as well.

“He can’t do it, Hannah.”

“Well, he can, sadly. And probably will if he wants to sell fast and for a good price,” Hannah said flatly, making Abby sit back in her chair, utterly losing her appetite altogether.

“There has to be some other way. I should talk to him, maybe we can work something out.”

“I’m sorry, hon, but I do your accounting, and there is no way you can afford to buy him out. Speaking as your friend, without Sarah, you already have more than you can manage alone. Maybe if you hire someone.” Hannah said sympathetically.

“I planned to, in the summer. I don’t have time for interviews now. But if he sells, none of it will matter.”

Sarah had been her manager and her second-in-command. She’d known the winery and their vineyards inside out, had been with them since her parents ran the place, but finally had also decided to retire a few months before. It had been tough finding a suitable replacement. Abby had been running in circles handling everything.

“What are you thinking?” she asked Hannah, who had that look that told Abby her friend was clearly cooking up something as she smiled mysteriously.

“Well, he was awfully eager to get his hands on you—no way were you choking badly enough for him to jump in and Heimlich you.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying you two always had some chemistry, always had a little push and pull between you. Maybe that’s something you could use to your advantage.”

“You’re deluded.”

“You know it’s true. You said yourself that he was a great kisser and you wish that snafu behind the hedgerow had gone further. So …”

“No fair. I said that when I was really drunk.”

“And we know alcohol is like truth serum for you. But why not give it a try?”

“Are you seriously suggesting I sleep with Reece in order to get him to change his mind about selling?”

“I wouldn’t put it that way. Just … strike up your old friendship, flirt a little, see if you can make him more sympathetic to your cause. Or at the very least, keep your enemies closer so you know what’s going on. He seemed interested in meeting up for a drink, and well, it can’t hurt, right?”

Abby narrowed her eyes. “I don’t believe I’ve seen this side of your personality. Very Desperate Housewives. But it’s not for me. Besides, that incident behind the bushes was a mistake. Before that, the only chemistry we had was him tormenting me since second grade.”

“Boys always punch girls in the arm when they like them.”

“You’ve been watching Brady Bunch repeats again, haven’t you?” Abby accused, and both of them collapsed in laughter for a moment, before Abby sighed, sobering again.

“I’m afraid we’ll have to come up with some other plan.”

“Maybe it’s for the best,” Hannah suggested. “I know the developments suck, but you haven’t had a vacation in almost two years, and have you even been out on a date in that time?”

“One,” Abby challenged.

Though that hadn’t been so much of a date as a disaster.

“All you do is work. Your parents never meant for you to have no life when they turned the place over. Maybe if you sold it, you could—”

Abby looked at her in horror. “How can you even say that? My parents risked everything, worked their entire lives to make this business a success, and at a time when organic farming had hardly been heard of, let alone been popular. How can I just sell out on them?”

Hannah shrugged. “It’s worth thinking about, from a practical perspective, hon. Things change. Sometimes you have to change with them.”

Abby knew she had been working too hard, almost constantly since Sarah retired, and Hannah was right on one score—as her parents’ only child, they were delighted to give her the business, but they were also huge believers in balance. They would be the first ones to tell her to ease up—yet they would also never sell to somebody like Keller, Abby knew that in her heart of hearts.

There had to be some way she could talk to Reece, find an alternative or get him to change his mind. Short of sleeping with him, not that the idea didn’t have some appeal. He was gorgeous, undeniably.

“I guess I could at least talk to him,” she said lamely, watching Reece deep in conversation with his business associate over big sandwiches. Thinking about those strong hands on her rib cage and the hot kisses they had shared, she wondered if Hannah wasn’t on to something.

Maybe her friend was right. Why not? They were old friends—sort of—but they were both grown up now. She hadn’t had so much as a kiss good-night in months. She knew for a fact that kissing Reece wouldn’t be any sacrifice at all, and if it would get him to listen to her.

All of her appetites kicked back in, and with a dash of hope she dug back into her salad.

Hannah’s lips twitched and she had a self-satisfied look. “You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?”

Abby couldn’t resist a smile. “Hey, you’re the one who wants me to go out on a date. Besides, it’s not like I would let it go too far,” she said, echoing Reece’s words from so long ago. “I wouldn’t trade sex for him selling the place to me or anything tawdry like that, but as you said, maybe just some flirting, spending time together, might help him see my side of things a little better.”

“Exactly. Just be careful. Remember from eleventh-grade chemistry what happens when you put two volatile substances together,” Hannah warned, but her eyes were twinkling with mischief.

“Maybe,” Abby said, but her mind was racing ahead, intrigued by the idea of flirting with Reece. “But what a way to go.”

REECE WAS HAVING a hard time focusing, and it had nothing to do with the injuries he’d sustained nine months before and everything to do with the unbelievably sexy woman sitting across the room. He could hardly believe that was Abby Harper.

Seeing her had been the first pleasant surprise he’d had since coming back to help with his family’s affairs. Life had been one long string of disasters for the past year. First, two members of his racing team had to be replaced at the start of the season, after which they’d lost a major sponsor, and then he’d had his accident at the end of March, right when he’d been about to turn a major corner in his career.

Everyone told him he was lucky to be alive and in one piece, walking and talking again, and he supposed that was true. He’d been in a coma for three days, followed by six months of language and physical therapy after he had emerged from the coma, his head injury leaving him with a broken memory and speech problems. He’d overcome it all. Mostly.

Some of the guys he’d known hadn’t made it through crashes that left them with lesser injuries, but there were a lot of days when Reece didn’t feel all that lucky, especially since they told him there would be no more racing, not until a neurologist cleared him. Then his dad had a major heart attack. It had been one thing after another, and Reece found his time split between his recovery and wanting to get back to racing and having to help out his family. They’d been there for him, and there was no way he’d leave them in the lurch now, but it sure didn’t make things easier. His life was an ocean away.

For months his mom and dad had been traveling back and forth to Europe, where Reece lived just outside of Paris. It was too much strain for them to try to run the winery and travel so often, and his father’s illness was proof of that. He felt responsible, and although they’d bent over backward to tell him it wasn’t his fault, guilt demanded he stay here and help in any way he could.

He’d been here, in central New York State, for a few weeks, though he had spent most of the time at the hospital, in hotels and then getting his parents to his brother’s home down South. He couldn’t help the feeling that his real life was passing him by. He could only be absent from racing for so long. There were always new guys coming up, ready to take his place, and sponsors had short memories. Few drivers came back after a crash like his; hell, few survived.

But Reece wasn’t ready to retire yet. He just had to sell the winery, to do the best he could by his parents and get back to France ASAP. At thirty-one, he didn’t have too many years left to get back into the game.

Though some guys raced into their forties, it was getting to be less and less the case, so he needed to still show he could do the job. The doctors were apprehensive, but he planned to prove them wrong. He’d come this far, he was going the rest of the way.

He thought again of Abby’s shocked face when he’d said he was going to sell the winery. His parents weren’t thrilled, either, but they’d long ago accepted that both of their boys had other lives now. Still, Reece was bothered by the clear disapproval in Abby’s gorgeous brown eyes when he’d made the announcement.

“So, I can bring the Keller representative by tomorrow, if you like,” Charles said.

Charles Tyler was one of the premiere real estate agents in the area, and he was also a shark—if anyone could sell the place for the best price, it would be him.

“They’d be a last resort. I thought I made that clear.”

Charles sighed, smiling slightly at the pretty server who delivered their lunch. “Well, if you want it sold for the asking price and fast, they are the best bet. They’ll jump at a property as large as yours.”

Reece frowned. They’d also tear down the renovated farmhouse he grew up in, and they’d flatten the vineyards, rows of Riesling, Chardonnay and Pinot Noir grapes, paving them over with cul-de-sacs and driveways. He’d been away, but he kept in touch, and he’d seen the changes along the lake since he’d come back, few of them good.

“Some of those vines have been around longer than my parents have been alive, planted by my grandfather,” Reece murmured, not realizing he’d said it out loud.

“Well, you might be able to sell to another winery, but it won’t go for nearly as much, not in this economic climate,” Charles said with a sigh, no doubt disappointed that sentimentality could get in the way of a larger commission for him. “And it could take quite a bit longer.”

Reece nodded, thinking. “Keep Keller on the line, but let’s not move too fast. If they want it now, they’ll want it a month from now, but let’s see what comes up in the meanwhile,” he said, his eyes drifting back to Abby.

“Who’s the girl?” Charles asked, following Reece’s gaze.

“Abby Harper. An old friend, her family owns the winery next to ours, Maple Hills.”

“More than a friend?” Charles asked.

“No. Just a girl I knew in high school,” Reece said.

“Any chance she might be interested in selling, as well? I could get you a sweet deal if you two went in on a sale together—that could significantly up the price Keller would offer.”

“I doubt she would ever sell, and definitely not to Keller,” Reece said.

“They’re not the devil,” Charles said dryly. “They just build developments, nice ones, which tend to fill up very quickly.”

“I know what they do,” Reece said absently, his attention still on Abby.

Charles picked up the check and changed the subject, droning on about local real estate markets or some other big sale he had just completed, all of which Reece tuned out.

Abby was in close conversation with her friend, whom he only vaguely remembered from school. He and Abby hadn’t really belonged to the same crowd, even though they grew up next door to each other and shared a common interest between their families.

Her folks were always a little different than everyone else on the lake—more iconoclastic, with their organic methods and sustainable farming beliefs, the petting zoo and homespun lifestyle. Those things were all the rage now, of course. Maple Hills could ask twice for a bottle of wine what other noncertified organic vineyards could.

While they were still primarily a small family business, Maple Hills had broadened its distribution and marketing quite successfully in recent years, so his father said. Probably Abby’s doing. She had a good head for business and was growing it well.

She’d taken a lot of ribbing in school—she and her parents being called hippies and so forth—and quite a bit of that had been from him. He hadn’t meant any of it, not in a mean-spirited way, but even then, Abby had been fun to tease. He could never resist.

Her cheeks turned pink if he even looked at her, and he’s always thought it was cute. He’d never suspected she would be as hot and as daring as he had discovered that night at the lake party.