A Weldon Family Christmas: A Southern Steam Novella (Weldon Brothers)

by Saints, Jennifer

  Cierra laughed. “Not from Ireland. Just from New York. I’m currently living there. Fiona and Aunt Rene are visiting me for the holidays, but I’m trying to talk them into moving in with me. Donovan thought this was a bad idea, popping in to see you—on Christmas day, no less—but the stuffy never approves of what I do.”

  “Donovan would be?” Emma found herself asking.

  “My brother. Sir Anthony Donovan Weldon. He holds the Kilkorony Baronage, and is obsessed with genealogy. But I must say, finding American relatives has been an exciting development.”

  “I’m honored and surprised that you’d take the time to meet us.” Emma noted that everyone in the room was as flabbergasted as she was, especially her sons. She’d yet to mention what she’d discovered in the family tree. She motioned to James and Jared. “Boys, take the ladies coats and someone fetch some chairs from the dining room. Let me introduce you to everyone.”

  Emma made the introductions. James and Jared hung up the ladies’ coats and Jesse brought chairs into the room. “Please have a seat.”

  “Only for a minute. We don’t want to stay too long. These are for your family. If your sons are like my brothers, they’re passionate about sweets.” Cierra handed Emma all of the bags the three women carried.

  “You must have bought the entire store. Thank you.”

  “I couldn’t make up my mind,” Cierra said.

  “Not to be rude, Ma, but do you want to tell us what’s up?” Jesse asked.

  Emma explained her ancestry search and what she’d discovered. “Come to find out, your father had an inkling from his grandfather that we had relatives in Ireland.”

  “So we’re related to you, Cierra, somehow?” James asked.

  “Yes, quite a few generations back on my father’s side of the family. Aunt Renee is my mother’s sister, so they’re not related to you. But the Weldon’s and the Devlin’s clashed swords and heads a few times over the centuries. So there might be a common ancestor somewhere.”

  “It’s amazingly uncanny, Cierra,” Fiona said. “You have to tell them.”

  James, who sat closest to Fiona, turned her way. “Tell us what?”

  “That Cierra has four brothers. Two of them are identical twins and look very much like you and your brother.”

  Jackson groaned. “You have got to be kidding.”

  “No way,” Jesse said. “God could not be that cruel. There couldn’t possibly be more of them. Surely Jared and James broke the mold with their mugs.”

  Cierra laughed. “I feel like I am at home. I’ve pictures on my mobile.” She dug her phone out and passed it around. Were it not for the equestrian outfits with a castle in the background Emma could have sworn she was seeing a picture of Jared and James.

  At that point, everyone began asking questions about each side of the family and time flew. The women stayed for desserts, and before Emma could catch her breath she and John stood at the front door, kissing and waving goodbye as everyone loaded up and left. The world went from chaos to silence in a matter of minutes. Her ears still rang from the laughter and the cheer.

  James was the last one to leave. “A memorable Christmas, Ma and Dad.” He bent down and kissed Emma’s cheek.

  “Yes it is. I’m still stunned. I’m so glad you’ll be showing Cierra, Fiona, and Renee the sights of Savannah tomorrow.”

  “It’ll be my pleasure.” James stepped onto the porch then turned around. “So by a week after you two met, you were pretty much committed to each other?”

  “Well, it was about ten days from the time we met until the bombing stopped and your dad got us to safety. But yes, to be honest it was probably less than a week. It was several months before he returned to Georgia and we married, however.”

  “Those were the longest months of my life,” John said, wrapping his arm around Emma, pulling her close.

  “Mine too,” she smiled up at him.

  “Better not let that mistletoe go to waste, Dad,” James said as he turned to leave.

  “Never,” John said. He shut the door, and pulled Emma into his arms and kissed her softly.

  “Another wonderful Christmas,” Emma said and sighed as she wrapped her arms around John, holding him tight.

  “Yes, but it’s not quite over.” He pulled an envelope from his pocket and handed it to her.

  Emma’s heart thudded when she saw “Dream Vacations” written in flowery letters. “What’s this?”

  “Something I bought a few weeks ago. You were so into tracing the ancestry. that I thought you deserved to do some research in person.”

  Emma opened the envelope to see a tour of Ireland for two. Tears filled her eyes and flowed.

  “John Weldon, you rascal. You had these for weeks and didn’t even give me a hint about it? Not even when I railed at you about keeping your ancestry secret. And not even this morning when I got all demanding on you about going places?”

  “And spoil the fun I had? No way.”

  Emma laughed and threw herself at him. “I love you!”

  “Love you, too, Em.”

  John kissed her hard and she kissed him back. Their Golden Years were just beginning.

  More Titles by Jennifer Saints

  Trevelyan Series Writing as Jennifer St. Giles

  The Mistress of Trevelyan

  His Dark Desires

  Killdaren Series Writing as Jennifer St. Giles

  Midnight Secrets

  Darkest Dreams

  Silken Shadows

  Shadowmen Series Writing as Jennifer St. Giles

  Touch A Dark Wolf

  The Lure of the Wolf

  Kiss of Darkness

  Bride of the Wolf

  Silent Warrior Series Writing as J.L. Saint

  Collateral Damage

  Tactical Deception

  Weldon Series Writing as Jennifer Saints

  Wild Irish Ride

  Smooth Irish Seduction

  Hard Irish Luck

  A Weldon Family Christmas

  Frankly, My Dear Series as Jennifer Saints

  Cocktail Cove

  Upcoming Releases

  Hot Irish Lass (Weldon Brothers - Book 4)

  Down Easy Street (Frankly, My Dear - Book 2)

  Fly Me to the Moon (Frankly, My Dear - Book 3)

  Find Jenni online on her website www.jennifersaints.com, Twitter @jennifersaints and Facebook.

  Excerpt From WILD IRISH RIDE

  Weldon Brothers Series - Book One

  He should have stayed away, he thought, stepping deeper into the shadows as she drew nearer. He saw she was wearing the damn pearls. Of course she would, it was her day to wear the cursed things. He’d never forget what she and those pearls had cost him. Reporters, like sharks in a feeding frenzy, snapped pictures and yelled questions. Alexi ignored them all. He had to admire that, he thought, his jaw clenching in protest.

  Where she was going?

  He knew what it was like to be shark bait and Alexi was sailing through the water with her head held high, but even through the light rain he could see she was bleeding inside as she drew abreast of him. Tears streamed down her face and her full lips trembled. She stumbled and reached for something to break her fall, but only grasped air.

  Shit. He rushed forward and caught her arm before she hit the ground, his instinct towards her stronger than his will.

  "Oh!" She turned and surprise washed over her face. She breathed his name, as if he were an answer to a prayer. “Jesse.”

  Hell, she still looked too damn innocent and vulnerable for his good. Twelve years and she still had the power to get under his skin even though he knew how deadly she could be. Maybe it was time to turn the tables, collect on what he missed and wipe her from his mind. She couldn’t be as good as he remembered her being.

  Alexi blinked as heat invaded the chill that had stolen through her since she’d seen the pictures of Roger. She tingled as she looked at the rugged face and chiseled chest of the man who'd just saved her from falling. Half a
day’s dark stubble covered his rough jaw; and his deep sea-blue eyes, crinkled at the corners from the sun, warily assessed her then stared at her mouth. Tension oozed from him. She had no trouble connecting the man to the wild devil who'd led her astray years ago then broke her heart.

  Small towns had their good side and bad side of the tracks, and the wild Weldon boys had been known a time or two to paint their side a bit blacker. Jesse’s reputation had been the worst. She hadn’t believed that until he'd used her to steal from her family. Over the years, she’d heard from Jesse's mother Emma, who worked at the hospital, about Jesse’s stellar military career and security business in Washington D.C. Knowing he’d turned his life around made her glad, but didn’t ease the hurt he’d left behind.

  “Still a virgin on the run after all these years, Lexi?” he drawled. His voice, as steamy and seductive as Southern summer day, challenged her on an elemental level, a sensual one.

  "Almost," Alexi said, letting the last illicit picture she had of Roger fall from her grasp to the ground. She'd only ever been with Roger and he didn't count. Not anymore. She sucked in air, latching onto Jesse’s appeal. The reporters encircled them. Jesse lifted his hot gaze to her eyes and smiled.

  "Almost?" Slow and sexual, his grin spread awareness through her. "Sounds frustrating. Interested in changing that?" He ran his finger under her chin and she caught her breath.

  Yes, some part deep inside her shouted. Yes, she wanted to change that. Here was one situation her grandmother couldn’t smooth over with a lie. With the cameras rolling, Roger and her grandmother would get a clear picture that Alexi meant it when she said she wasn’t marrying Roger ever.

  “Yes,” Alexi said to Jesse, stepping closer to him. Waves of his sex appeal washed over her. Waves she had no trouble remembering, though she'd only been seventeen when she'd last dipped into them. His nearness and touch sparked something inside of her that wanted to rebel against everything that had just happened to her. “Kiss me,” she demanded, loudly.

  Jesse arched his brow and asked softly, "What’s your game Lexi?” He slid an arm around her and pulled her flush to his bare chest, her breasts to his smooth, hard muscle. Then his mouth covered hers. She gasped at the desire shooting through her as his demanding tongue entered her mouth and his gaze dared her to respond.

  She wound her arms around his neck, pressed closer to him, and met his tongue with hers. Surprise that she’d taken him up on his challenge filled his eyes and he hesitated, but only for a moment before he delivered a four-alarm kiss. He bent her back over his arm, inserted his leg between hers and had one hand cupping her bottom, no doubt knocking the socks off the gossip hounds surrounding them. In one kiss Jesse thoroughly ravished her from the inside out and she burned for more. By trying to deliver a message to her grandmother, Alexi wondered what message had she delivered to herself instead.

  Jesse ended the kiss, but kept her captive in his embrace as he stared into her eyes. She ran her fingers into the silk of his hair and then surprised herself by kissing him again. His heat chased away the chill Roger had left inside her and she couldn’t seem to get enough of it. He groaned then and deepened the kiss. Her hands clung to his broad shoulders, feeling the heat of his bare skin and the strength of his muscled torso. The cameras continued to flash and the world swirled crazily around her as her heart pounded hard at the line she crossed by embracing a half-naked Jesse so intimately in public.

  He smelled faintly of aftershave and some indefinable, but intriguing scent. His body, strong and sure, eased around hers, a balm to her chaffed emotions. Yet before she could lose herself in him completely, he eased back and stared hard at her. Emotion and desire collided in her heart, springing tears to her eyes. "Get me out of here, please," she whispered.

  Cool cynicism descended into the heat of his gaze. "So that's your angle. You need a hero, even if it's a Weldon." Glancing up at the reporters around them, he cursed. "Well, your highness, these days I charge for services rendered, and I expect to get paid." He scooped her into his arms and rammed through the reporters. “I’ll be your hero for a price.”

  "What do you mean by that?" she asked, struggling in his arms as he headed to the parking lot. Reporters followed.

  Jesse stopped a moment to meet her gaze. A sensual promise curved his lips. “We’ll take care of the details later. The choice is yours, Lexi. Me or the sharks following us?"

  "You," she said, wondering if she'd just made a deal with the devil in Georgia.

  Excerpt from SMOOTH IRISH SEDUCTION

  Weldon Brothers Series - Book Two

  “I’ll finish up here. Head Nurse Litton wants you to go home before you end up on a stretcher.” Candy lowered her voice so that only Nan could hear. “You work too hard. How you can do double shifts without a complaint is beyond me.” The working conditions at Memorial Hospital were not ideal and many of the nurses felt the pressure of having to juggle too many patients with minimal help.

  Nan bit her lip as a tinge of guilt heated her cheeks. She wasn’t as noble as Candy made her sound, at least, not since Jackson invaded Nan’s dreams. Now she not only worked diligently to reach her goals, but she also worked with exhaustion in mind. Too tired plus too tired equaled zero dreams, which meant no Jackson invasions...

  Nan blinked, realizing Candy had spoken to her. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”

  Taking the baby’s chart, Candy shooed Nan toward the door. “You better go home before you fall down. I said that major hunk Dr. Swanson came by the nurses’ station earlier asking for you and you didn’t even react.”

  “Me?” Nan blinked with surprise.

  “Yes, you. Don’t look so innocent. I saw him eating lunch with you yesterday.”

  “That’s only because the lunch room was full and he was kind enough to invite me to his table when I walked by.”

  “Uh, huh,” Candy said with a bright gleam in her eyes that said she wasn’t about to be fooled. “Out of all the people passing his table, he just happened to invite you to sit.”

  “Yes,” Nan said. She was far too pragmatic to see Dr. Swanson’s invitation as anything but a simple kindness on his part. Brad Swanson was the most renowned neurosurgeon in the Southeast, a medical giant. If Nan had had an “A-list” for Mr. Right, Dr. Swanson’s dedication and determination would put him at the top of it.

  Sure Candy was making too much of Dr. Swanson’s visit, Nan said goodbye to the new mother and baby and left the delivery room. Dr. Schwartz followed her out.

  “Nan, congratulations on receiving the Lois Emerson Merit Award again. You deserved to be honored twice in a row.”

  “Thank you, Dr. Schwartz. I was completely surprised. Once was wonderful. Twice left me speechless.” The award was given to honor excellence in nursing care. To Nan it meant she was one step closer to being chosen for the scholarship. That Dr. Schwartz recommended Nan, doubled the honor. Nan greatly admired the woman who balanced a career and a family.

  “You’ve earned it. And I’ll be putting my recommendation in for you next year as well. This delivery might not have had as happy an ending, if you hadn’t have had the instinct to call me when you did.”

  “I’m only thankful that both mother and baby are all right.”

  “Thanks to you. Go home and get some rest.”

  “You, too.”

  “No such luck. I left my husband with six five-year-old girls coming over for my daughter’s birthday party that should have started an hour ago. Even though he’s a flexible kind of guy and completely supportive of my career, I’m sure he’s snatched himself bald by now. So I’d better hurry.”

  Nan laughed as Dr. Schwartz hustled away. Careers didn’t necessarily make for a smooth family life. Nan made a mental note to add flexible to her Mr. Right list.

  In the nurses’ station, Nan keyed a few quick notes into the computer and then logged off for the day. She settled back in her chair and breathed a sigh of relief that was short lived. When her gaze focused on the clock,
she suddenly remembered that she was supposed to be at her friend Alexi’s house for a potluck BBQ. In ten minutes. She was too tired to rush and too tired to go, which was just as well. Since Alexi was Jackson’s sister-in-law, odds were he’d be at the BBQ and she didn’t need any more fuel to fodder her nightly fantasies of him.

  She hadn’t seen him in months, but she could clearly picture every nuance of his bad boy persona. He was the devil who promised heaven in his every move, but offered nothing for the future. She’d grown up under a futureless cloud and she wasn’t ever going back there.

  Digging her cell phone out of her purse, Nan dialed Alexi’s number, braced to face the riot act Alexi was sure to deliver.

  “I’ve got your number, Sugar.”

  There was no mistaking the deep sensual voice. Nan’s heart jumped and an oh-so-hot, sweat broke all over her body. Her voice, caught sideways in her windpipe, squeaked. “Jackson?”

  “My name on your lips is a good start. Please Jackson is even better. Ever had phone sex, Nan?”

  Air flew from her lungs. An army of hormones attacked her sensibilities and everything else she had too. Liquid fire, pooled, flowed, and stroked.

  Oh, my! A quick glance around the nurses’ station told her no one had even noticed her. She should disconnect; pretend she hadn’t even called. That would be the smart thing…

  Instead she griped her cell phone tighter, swiveled her chair to face the wall, and shut her eyes. His voice did things for which she was starved. A moment she told herself. Just a moment to relay her message to Alexi. Then she’d hang up.

  “Afraid sugar?” Like smooth Irish cream, his voice glided and curled into a warm knot right where his deep tones stroked the most.

  “No.” Since she’d forgotten to breathe, she sounded wispy instead of practical.