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A Very Special Holiday Gift
A Very Special Holiday Gift
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A Very Special Holiday Gift

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A Very Special Holiday Gift
Barbara Hannay

A family in time for Christmas…When millionaire Zac hears of his sister's death, he knows it's time to abandon his party lifestyle and protect his baby niece. Traveling to snowy London, there's no one he'd rather have at his side than his PA, Chloe–beautiful, kind…and utterly off-limits.Chloe knows the pain love can bring, and she is daunted by the prospect of spending Christmas alone with her gorgeous boss…but watching Zac cradling baby Lucy melts her frozen heart. It seems this Christmas might just bring the most special gift of all: a family.

Help! She was still tingling and zapping from having him take off her coat.

This was such a dangerous moment. She only had to give the slightest hint of acceptance and Zac Corrigan would be kissing her. And she couldn’t pretend that she didn’t want to be kissed. His lips were so close, so scrumptious, so wonderfully tempting.

The air between them was crackling and sizzling. At any moment he was going to lean in …

Now she was struggling to remember why this was wrong. “Zac, we can’t—”

“Shh.” He touched her arm, sending dizzying warmth washing over her skin. “Forget about the office for one night.”

“How can I? How can you?”

“Chloe, you’re an incredibly sexy woman, and I’m absolutely smitten by you.”

A Very Special Holiday Gift

Barbara Hannay

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

Reading and writing have always been a big part of BARBARA HANNAY’s life. She wrote her first short story at the age of eight for the Brownies’ writer’s badge. It was about a girl who was devastated when her family had to move from the city to the Australian Outback.

Since then, a love of both city and country lifestyles has been a continuing theme in Barbara’s books and in her life. Although she has mostly lived in cities, now that her family has grown up and she’s a full-time writer she’s enjoying a country lifestyle.

Barbara and her husband live on a misty hillside in Far North Queensland’s Atherton Tableland. When she’s not lost in the world of her stories she’s enjoying farmers’ markets, gardening clubs and writing groups, or preparing for visits from family and friends.

Barbara records her country life in her blog, Barbwired, and her website is: www.barbarahannay.com (http://www.barbarahannay.com).

For Elliot, with huge, huge thanks for your unfailing faith in my writing … It would never have happened without you.

Contents

Cover (#u2487e4a5-aa07-59b8-a23a-3423314126d3)

Introduction (#u06b92bc3-a8a2-5a7e-9676-388920d731d3)

Title Page (#u002b3f30-f0f7-5cb1-9bec-4078dd7e17d6)

About the Author (#u0caa6b92-4c17-5ca0-8466-ed42f40b85b5)

Dedication (#ud08834e4-c2e6-5fb5-ad60-bad2b806819b)

CHAPTER ONE (#u56ecfbd1-0b5d-5476-996a-98886734103a)

CHAPTER TWO (#u1b727435-1083-55b9-9083-af582fe6d76b)

CHAPTER THREE (#uc1ec5c66-5fb3-5083-a06c-a27868aa172c)

CHAPTER FOUR (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

EPILOGUE (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_2002a4de-6e87-5ed5-9c92-ad8ad543172b)

THE PHONE CALL that changed Chloe Meadows’s life came when she was poised on tiptoe, on a chair that she had placed on top of a desk in a valiant attempt to tape a loop of Christmas lights to the office ceiling.

It was late on a Wednesday evening, edging towards nine p.m., and the sudden shrill bell in the silent, empty office was so unexpected Chloe almost fell from her precarious perch. Even so, she slipped as she scrambled down awkwardly in her straight grey business skirt and stocking feet.

She was slightly out of breath as she finally grabbed the phone just as it was due to ring out.

‘Hello? ZedCee Management Consultants.’ She wondered who would call the office at this late hour. On a Wednesday night.

There was a longish beat before she heard a man’s distinctly English voice. ‘Hello? I’m calling from London. Could I please speak to Mr Zachary Corrigan?’ The voice was officious, like the command of a bossy teacher.

‘I’m sorry. Mr Corrigan isn’t in the office.’ Chloe politely bit back the urge to remind the caller that it was well after office hours in Australia and that her employer was almost certainly at a social function.

On any given week night, Zac Corrigan was likely to be socialising, but that possibility had become a certainty this week, the week before Christmas, when almost everyone was at some kind of party. Everyone, that was, except Chloe, whose social calendar was quiet even at this busy time of the year.

Sadly, the red letter date in Chloe’s festive season was the office Christmas party. This was the third year in a row that she’d put up her hand to be the party’s organiser. She’d ordered the champagne, the wines and beer, as well as a selection of delicious canapés and finger food from François’s. And she’d been happy to stay back late this evening to decorate the office with festive strings of lights, shiny balloons and bright garlands of tinsel and holly.

Secretly, she loved this task. When she’d first landed her job at ZedCee she’d also moved back home to care for her elderly parents, who weren’t overly fond of ‘gaudy’ decorations, so this was her chance to have a little Christmas fun.

‘To whom am I speaking?’ the fellow from London barked into the phone.

‘I’m Mr Corrigan’s PA.’ Chloe was used to dealing with bossy types, matching their overbearing manner with her own quiet calm. ‘My name’s Chloe Meadows.’

‘Ms Meadows, this is Sergeant Davies from The Metropolitan Police and I’m ringing from The Royal London Hospital. I’m afraid the matter is urgent. I need to speak to Mr Corrigan.’

‘Of course.’ Instantly alarmed, Chloe forgave the policeman his bossiness and reached for a pen and paper. She was appalled to think that this urgent matter was in any way connected to her boss. ‘I’ll call Mr Corrigan immediately and tell him to ring you.’

Sergeant Davies dictated his number, Chloe thanked him and her stomach clenched nervously as she connected straight to Zac Corrigan’s mobile.

* * *

The zip in the young woman’s black silk dress slid smoothly downwards and the fabric parted to reveal her delightfully pale back. Zac Corrigan smiled. She was lovely. Tipsy after too many champagne cocktails and without very much to eat, but at least they’d escaped the party early, and she was quite irresistibly lovely.

With a practised touch, he caressed the creamy curve of her shoulder and she giggled. Damn. Why did champagne make girls giggle?

Still. Her skin was soft and warm and her figure was exquisite and, for a repeat of the night they’d shared last weekend, Zac could forgive her giggling.

With a firm hand cradling her bared shoulders, he leaned closer to press a kiss to the back of her neck. His lips brushed her skin. She giggled again, but she smelled delicious and Zac’s anticipation was acute as he trailed a seductive line of kisses over her shoulder.

The sweet moment was spoiled by the sudden buzz of his mobile phone and Zac swore beneath his breath as he sent a frustrated glare in the direction of the armchair where he’d dumped the phone along with his jacket and tie.

‘I’ll get it!’ the girl squealed.

‘No, don’t bother. Leave it.’

Too late. She’d already wriggled free and was diving for the chair, laughing excitedly, as if answering his phone was the greatest game.

* * *

Chloe suppressed a groan when she heard the slightly slurred female’s voice on the line.

‘Hi, there!’ a girl chirped. ‘Kung Fu’s Chinese Takeaway. How can I help you?’

‘Hi, Jasmine.’ Chloe was unfortunately familiar with most of her boss’s female ‘friends’. They were usually blessed with beauty rather than brains, which meant they were always ringing him at work, and Chloe spent far too much time holding them at bay, taking their messages, placating them with promises that Mr Corrigan would return their calls as soon as he was free, and generally acting as a go-between. ‘Hold the jokes,’ she said now. ‘And just put Zac on.’

‘Jasmine?’ The voice on the end of the line was slightly sloshed and distinctly peeved. ‘Who’s Jasmine?’ Her voice rose several decibels. ‘Zac, who’s Jasmine?’

Oops. Under other circumstances, Chloe might have apologised or tried to reassure the silly girl, but tonight she simply spoke loudly and very clearly. ‘This is Mr Corrigan’s PA and the matter is urgent. I need to speak to him straight away.’

‘All right, all right.’ The girl was sulky now. ‘Keep your hair on.’ There was a shuffling, possibly stumbling sound. ‘Mr Corr-i-gan,’ she said next, sounding out the syllables in a mocking sing-song. ‘Your PA wants you and she says you’d better hurry up.’ This was followed by a burst of ridiculous giggling.

‘Give that here!’ Zac sounded impatient and a moment later he was on the line. ‘Chloe, what’s up? What the hell’s the matter?’

‘An urgent phone call has come through for you from London,’ she said. ‘From the police. At a hospital.’

‘In London?’ There was no missing the shock in his voice.

‘Yes. I’m afraid it’s urgent, Zac. The policeman wants you to call him immediately.’

There was a shuddering gasp, then another sound that might have been—

No. It couldn’t have been a sob. Chloe knew her ears were deceiving her. During three years in this job she’d never detected a single crack in Zac Corrigan’s habitual toughness.

‘Right.’ His voice was still different, almost broken and very un-Zac-like. ‘Can you give me the number?’

Chloe told him and listened as he repeated it. He still sounded shaken and she felt a bit sick. Normally, she refused to allow herself any sympathy for her boss’s personal life, which was as messy as a dog’s breakfast, as far as she was concerned. But this situation was different. Frightening. She couldn’t recall any connection between her boss and London and she thought she knew almost everything about him.

‘I’ll let you know if I need you,’ he said.

* * *

Zac was as tense as a man facing a firing squad as he dialled the London number. This emergency had to involve Liv. He was sure of it. He’d been trying to convince himself that his little sister was an adult now and quite capable of running her own life, especially after she’d ignored his protests and left for England with her no-hoper boyfriend... But...

Liv.

His baby sister...

All that was left of his family...

His responsibility...

‘Hello,’ said a businesslike English voice. ‘Sergeant Davies speaking.’

‘This is Zac Corrigan.’ His voice cracked and he swallowed. ‘I believe you’re trying to contact me.’

‘Ah, yes, Mr Corrigan.’ The policeman’s tone was instantly gentler, a fact that did nothing to allay Zac’s fears. ‘Can I please confirm that you are Zachary James Corrigan?’

‘Yes.’ What had Liv done? Not another drug overdose, surely? When he’d rung her two weeks ago, she’d promised him she was still off the drugs, all drugs. She’d been clean for over a year.

‘And you’re the brother of Olivia Rose Corrigan?’

‘Yes, I am. I was told you’re calling from a hospital. What’s this about?’

‘I’m sorry, Mr Corrigan,’ the policeman said. ‘Your sister died a short while ago as the result of a road accident.’

Oh, God.

It wasn’t possible.

Shock exploded through Zac, flashing agonising heat, threatening to topple him. Liv couldn’t be dead. It simply was not possible.

‘I’m sorry,’ Sergeant Davies said again.

‘I—I see,’ Zac managed. A stupid thing to say, but his mind was numb. With terror. With pain.

‘Do you have any relatives living in the UK?’ the policeman asked.

‘No.’ Sweat was pouring off Zac now. Vaguely, he was aware of the girl, Daisy, with the black dress dangling off her shoulders. She was hovering close, frowning at him, her heavily made-up eyes brimming with vacuous curiosity. He turned his back on her.

‘Then I take it you’ll be prepared to be our contact for any arrangements?’

‘Yes,’ Zac said stiffly. ‘But tell me what happened.’

‘I’ll pass you onto someone from the hospital, sir. The doctor will be able to answer all your questions.’