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His By Christmas
Teresa Southwick
From Four Weeks to Forever Parasailing. Hang gliding. Rock climbing. That's what hard-driving exec Calhoun Hart had planned for his monthlong Caribbean jaunt. Until a skydiving accident puts a crimp in his plans—and puts him back into work mode. First order of business: fly in a personal assistant. But how's the once-burned bachelor supposed to resist the serene, superefficient redhead who has more than his bottom line working overtime?Justine Walker could do a lot worse than this tropical Eden. And working with Cal is reaping unexpected benefits. Like helping the widow heal from a tragic loss…and showing her sexy, never-stops-to-smell-the-roses boss how pleasurable downtime can be. But once vacation's over, are they ready to take a leap of faith and keep paradise in their hearts forever?
From Four Weeks to Forever
Parasailing. Hang gliding. Rock climbing. That’s what hard-driving exec Calhoun Hart had planned for his monthlong Caribbean jaunt. Until a skydiving accident puts a crimp in his plans—and puts him back into work mode. First order of business: fly in a personal assistant. But how’s the once-burned bachelor supposed to resist the serene, superefficient redhead who has more than his bottom line working overtime?
Justine Walker could do a lot worse than this tropical Eden. And working with Cal is reaping unexpected benefits. Like helping the widow heal from a tragic loss...and showing her sexy, never-stops-to-smell-the-roses boss how pleasurable downtime can be. But once vacation’s over, are they ready to take a leap of faith and keep paradise in their hearts forever?
“I was protecting you.”
“From yourself,” Justine clarified.
“Yes. If I hadn’t pulled back, there’s no way I could resist touching you, and that would make it impossible not to have you.” Sincerity and longing darkened Cal’s eyes.
“You wanted me?” She was almost afraid to believe it was true.
He kissed her and whispered against her lips, “I’ve wanted you from the moment I first saw you.”
“That’s hard to believe. I’ve read about your dalliances. Every last woman was beautiful and perfect.”
“No one is perfect,” he said.
“The women you dated came pretty close.”
He studied her. “Sounds like you’re having second thoughts.”
“Not really. I’m just giving you an exit plan.”
“What if I don’t want one?” He took her hand and lifted it to his lips. “In case you’re still not convinced, I’ll make this as clear as I know how. I want you more than I’ve wanted any woman. Ever.”
* * *
The Bachelors Of Blackwater Lake: They won’t be single for long!
His by Christmas
Teresa Southwick
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
TERESA SOUTHWICK lives with her husband in Las Vegas, the city that reinvents itself every day. An avid fan of romance novels, she is delighted to be living out her dream of writing for Mills & Boon.
To Susan Mallery.
Your amazing creativity is only exceeded by your generosity in sharing it. You’ve always charged forward with your arms outstretched, urging other writers along with you. I’m grateful to be one of them and even happier to call you my dear friend.
Contents
Cover (#u305901b9-1f6d-5d52-aba9-0e8acbe90705)
Back Cover Text (#u197d8240-4de9-5540-83ea-b59088558df9)
Introduction (#u4cadaaf9-c708-5fa2-9120-69e97240389f)
Title Page (#ueb171816-73a9-5915-8da7-9f6b01687a97)
About the Author (#u95d29409-4253-5bda-8cc6-367b83431ba7)
Dedication (#u4094f959-9f36-51d9-9bbe-7d2333c95c53)
Chapter One (#u3690c24e-9a0d-54e5-8b88-ff457ee92464)
Chapter Two (#udccd2a1b-8f31-5efc-a945-4b61e4787788)
Chapter Three (#u83d31452-9f55-5897-a9d0-6fa58c2d32f4)
Chapter Four (#u9240e3c9-d2e5-574b-bbaa-bdebf435f61c)
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)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#ucaf959fd-9ebe-5587-8ef0-b2f81d1e6665)
“I’ve had sex recently.” Calhoun Hart hoped there was enough self-righteous indignation in his retort to make the lie believable.
“You are so lying.”
“You don’t know that.”
Sam Hart, his older brother, stared at him for several moments, gave him a pitying look, then laughed. “I’d put money on the fact that I’m right.”
“I don’t need money.” Cal was the president of Hart Energy and had plenty. “What I want is that classic car Granddad left you.”
“The Duchess? That’s never going to happen. And it wasn’t personal. He said it needs tender loving care and that takes time. Which you don’t have because you’re always working.” Sam shrugged. “And I’m the oldest. Get over it.”
Cal knew he meant get over second-son syndrome. He would never be first. In the line of succession he was the spare to his older brother’s heir. For as long as he could remember, if Sam was going somewhere, doing something, Cal wanted to do it, too.
Although not marriage, which is why family and friends were gathered in a banquet room at Blackwater Lake’s newest hotel—Holden House. Sam had just gotten married and promised to love and honor Faith Connelly, the town florist. The invitation had said Reception Immediately Following and apparently the groom believed it was open season on Cal’s sex life since his own was in pretty good shape. And he’d never seen his older brother look happier. For once the thought didn’t crank up his acute competitive streak. The truth was, Cal envied him.
“I’m over the whole car thing,” he declared. It was another lie, but he was hoping the groom would be distracted and quit ribbing him about his missing-in-action personal life.
“You’ll never be over it, little brother.”
“You’re only nine months older,” Cal reminded him.
Sam straightened his black bow tie, the one he wore with his traditional black tuxedo. “And an inch taller.”
Cal couldn’t do anything about that, either. He blamed the combination of chromosomes, DNA or whatever it was that had resulted in his own light brown hair and blue eyes and being six foot one instead of six foot two or more. But the reminder was just as annoying now as it had been for his whole life.
“Sam, you’re an ass,” he said. “Tell me again how you talked Faith into marrying you.”
His brother glanced around the crowded room until he found the beautiful bride dressed in a lacy, long-sleeved, floor-length white gown. She met his gaze as if somehow knowing he’d been searching for her and blew him a kiss. “I had a little help from a miniature matchmaker named Phoebe.”
The bride’s little girl. Cal couldn’t deny she was a cute, precocious child. “What did she see in you?”
“Good question. Maybe she knew I needed her and her mom more than they needed me.” Sam was dead serious. “I’m adopting her.”
“Even more reason to congratulate you,” Cal said just as sincerely. “You really do have it all.”
“And you don’t,” his brother needled him. “In fact, you’re not getting any, either.”
So much for having a moment. “How can you possibly know that? Are you stalking me?”
“Don’t have to. I always know where you are. Working.”
“So you’re studying surveillance footage?”
“Don’t have to do that, either, now that you’ve set up an office for Hart Energy here in Blackwater Lake.” Sam slid his hands into the pockets of his tux trousers. “And, in spite of that, there was still some question at the last minute about you being here for the wedding.”
Cal felt a little guilty about that, but negotiations regarding a parcel of land for a wind farm were going south and he needed to be involved. “I made it, didn’t I? I should get points for that. I haven’t missed a Hart wedding yet. Except the one ten years ago Linc didn’t tell anyone about.”
“True. And you’re the last Hart bachelor. Here alone, I notice. Evidence that you work too much to have a life and a plus-one.”
There was more truth in that statement than Cal would admit. “Who retired and promoted you to relationship monitor?”
Just then Katherine Hart, their mother, joined the conversation. “Calhoun, this is your brother’s day. Be nice.”
And so, Cal thought, just like in football, it was the retaliatory hit the official penalized, not the inciting one. “He started it.”
“Sam—” The older woman stood between them, linking arms with them. She was ageless and still beautiful, even after raising four children. “What did you do?”
“I simply pointed out that Cal is a workaholic.”
“Not exactly how you phrased it.” Cal didn’t miss the gleam in his brother’s eyes, the one that dared him to tell her the disagreement was all about him not having sex in a long time. That would happen when pigs went airborne.
“You do work too hard,” Katherine said. “I was seriously thinking about staging a family intervention.”
“Isn’t that a bit dramatic, Mother?”
“No.” Her expression said she wasn’t kidding. Not only that, she’d left no room for rebuttal.
That didn’t stop him from trying to make an argument. “It takes time and effort to run a successful company.”
“No one understands that better than me. But some things are more important.”
Not when he was competing with Sam for the best bottom line of all the companies that encompassed Hart Industries. “Look, Mom—”
“No.” There was that rebuttal stopper again. “Working too hard is a flaw of the Hart men. It’s a trait that nearly destroyed my marriage to your father, as you both well know.”
Cal was aware that his parents legally separated when he and Sam were hardly more than babies. Because they were so close in age, she’d always called them twins the hard way. His dad worked all the time and she’d felt isolated and alone. Katherine’s one-night stand during the separation had resulted in her getting pregnant and his brother Lincoln was born. Against the odds, Katherine and Hastings Hart had reconciled and their union became even stronger.
“I’m not married,” Cal reminded her.
“You were once, but you never will be again if you don’t make changes in your life.”
Cal had left himself wide-open for that one. “Look, I just wasn’t very good at marriage.”
“That’s no reason to give up. It’s like vegetables. One taste doesn’t get you a pass from them. Your body needs them and they’re good for you.”
Kind of like sex, Cal thought.
“You’ll wither and die if you don’t get any.” Sam’s remark was a clue that he was thinking along the same lines.
“Seriously,” Katherine said, “there are studies that prove married men live longer. I want you around for a very long time, not working yourself into an early grave.”
“Come on, Mom. You’re exaggerating.” When her eyes flashed with maternal intensity, he knew that was the wrong thing to say.
“When was the last time you took a vacation?” she demanded.
He thought for a moment and drew a blank. “I’d have to check my calendar. Can I get back to you on that?”
“I already checked with Shanna and she told me you haven’t taken time off since she’s been with the company, so that’s at least four years.”
“You went over my head to my assistant about this?”
