by Anthology
LOVE UNDER THE
MISTLETOE
Edited by Alexandra Davies
Four festive treats from some of Accent’s best-selling authors, that are guaranteed to warm you up at Christmas.
Snowed In - Alice Raine
Housecleaner Allie unexpectedly finds herself snowed in with a mysterious man with a secret he refuses to share, and with only each other as company, attraction sparks between them…
Christmas For One - Elizabeth Coldwell
A jilted bride discovers just how exciting the single life can be when she goes on her honeymoon alone, and finds herself the object of affection in Hawaii.
A Valentine For Christmas - KD Grace
An anonymous gift-giver brings businessman Gerard Jasper the Christmas he’ll never forget when his present comes dressed in nothing but a red ribbon…
The Sharpness of Holly - Demelza Hart
A family Christmas reunites Holly with her estranged sister and her new boyfriend Daniel – but when sparks fly between Holly and the taken older man, can she resist temptation or will it prove a Christmas to be remembered?
Contents
Snowed In Alice Raine
Christmas For One Elizabeth Coldwell
A Valentine For Christmas KD Grace
The Sharpness of Holly Demelza Hart
Snowed In
Alice Raine
Chapter One
The heater in the car blew my long hair all over the place. I haphazardly tried to brush it out of my eyes while keeping my gaze on the road and one hand on the wheel. Glancing in the rear-view mirror to check the traffic I saw the dishevelled reflection of my wayward blonde hair and frowning, blue eyes. Sarah owed me a favour for this, big time. I couldn’t frigging believe I was driving out here in the country, way up into the hills, when the sky looked as grey and ominous as it currently did. The thick grey clouds that had scudded in several hours ago had progressively thickened and now the sky had darkened to the point where I had my headlights on full beam and it was definitely threatening to rain … or snow, if the thermometer in my car was any indicator. It would only take a drop of another degree or so to be perfect snow conditions. I sighed heavily. All this just a week before Christmas, too. Shaking my head, my gloved hands clutched the steering wheel tighter in annoyance. I should be doing my last minute present shopping now, not covering a cleaning shift for Sarah at some godforsaken house in the middle of nowhere.
To be honest, the only reason I was doing this at all was because Sarah was my best friend and I knew how desperate she was for money at the moment. What with walking out of her last job after she was hit on by her sleazy boss – who she later found out was not only a slime ball, but married too – and trying to support herself and her three-year-old son I knew she needed every penny she could get. She certainly couldn’t afford to lose her new cleaning job for missing a shift, and having personally witnessed the blotchy, snot-covered state of her face this morning I could vouch for the fact that she was in no state to be working.
So here I was. Wrapped up in a million layers of thermals and driving to the arse end of no-where to cover a cleaning and cooking shift. Add to that the fact that it was bloody freezing today and I really did look like a prize idiot. Rolling my eyes at my stupidity I cranked the heater up until it started to groan its complaint. I was a school teacher, for goodness sake. I kept my flat tidy and cooked passable meals, but I really wasn’t sure I was up to the standard of a professional.
As my sat nav barked out an order to turn off onto a small lane I slowed to navigate the narrower road and thought back to what Sarah had told me about the job; apparently the client was working away at the moment and due back on Christmas Eve. He’d requested a clean of the house and asked for some food to be prepared and left in the freezer. His only stipulation was that there was no turkey involved. Perhaps he was a Christmas hater, I thought with a smirk. Well bah, humbug to that!
It had all sounded easy enough to me when Sarah had begged me between thick, wet coughs this morning, but that was before the weather had changed for the worse. Oh well, my sat nav showed me I was just two miles away, so I’d get in, whip round with the Hoover, make a pasta dish and a casserole, and get the hell out of there before the weather set in.
Finally pulling up to the property, I sat for several seconds gazing in open-mouthed wonder at the gigantic house in front of me. It was enormous; basically a mansion, and beautiful too, with wooden shutters on the windows and ivy-covered columns by the front door. But then my wonderment was ceased by the horrible realisation that my idea of a ‘quick hoover’ might take a little longer than I had first anticipated. Bugger it. Grimacing at the gargantuan task before me, I used the code Sarah had scrawled on a piece of newspaper to activate the front security gate, and then pulled my car up the curved gravel driveway to the impressive looking double doors.
Sarah hadn’t mentioned the client’s name when I’d gone to get the key from her this morning, she’d just referred to him as ‘he’, but as I walked through the beautifully furnished space I found myself very curious about what type of person, or people, might live here. I’m not a snooper as such, but if it hadn’t been threatening to snow I would have been tempted to poke about and play my own version of Through the Keyhole. As it looked like I might be on a time deadline though, I shelved my curiosity and tried to save time by getting the pasta on so I could leave it to cook while I hoovered.
The kitchen was a-maz-ing; a huge immaculate space with modern steel and marble units and fitted with some very impressive floor to ceiling windows which looked out onto a wooded back garden. As tempted as I was to linger and admire the various fancy gadgets lying around, I cast another worried glance out of the window and saw the clouds were even lower than before. Somebody had obviously shopped this week because the fridge was full, so grabbing a large knife I set about quickly and haphazardly chopping some of the vegetables I found, hoping that the client wasn’t too picky about the size of his vegetable dice.
Once the pasta was cooking I hastily went in search of the cleaning cupboard that Sarah had said was located under the stairs. Popping my iPod on, I set about hoovering the huge expanse of luxuriously furnished lounge with Mika blaring in my headphones to accompany my tuneless singing. As I cleaned I gazed around the room; a beautiful fireplace was the focal feature, with a flat screen television mounted above it that was almost as big as my bed. A curved leather sofa arced across the room ending at an enormous DVD rack and well stocked drinks cabinet. The owner of this house clearly liked to watch films, and did so in considerable comfort. How the other half lived, I thought with a wry smile.
Halfway through my mammoth vacuuming session I was building up quite a sweat when the Hoover suddenly cut off. Assuming I had pulled the cable from the wall I spun around to remedy it before letting out an ear-piercing shriek and leaping backwards several steps, clutching at my chest as my heart beat frantically against my ribs.
The hoover hadn’t pulled itself from the wall. No, instead, as I followed the trail of the cable it led me to the hand of a very large man standing in front of me with his arms folded and an incredibly angry expression on his face.
Even in my shock my body noted that he might be angry, but this man was also undeniably handsome, and on top of that, he was only semi-clothed, wearing nothing other than a pair of navy blue pyjama bottoms. Crikey, what a sight. Licking my lips my eyes definitely lingered on his well-muscled abdomen for longer than necessary, not to mention his broad chest, but I couldn’t seem to pull my gaze away as I gulped desperately and tugged my ear buds out.
‘You’re not Sarah,’ the man stated grouchily, completely bursting my bubble. Of all the words I’d briefly imagined coming f
rom his beautiful lips, those were not the ones I’d hoped for. Although exactly what I had hoped for I wasn’t sure – his mere presence seemed to have completely thrown me. His bluntness however, did bring me somewhat back to earth and raised my hackles, so instead of asking the obvious question of who he was – the house owner, I hoped – I instead opted for a sarcastic response.
‘Good observation, you must be a genius,’ I said dryly, rather glad I didn’t sound as shaken or breathless as I felt. My reply caused his dark eyes to narrow in annoyance as he rolled his lips repeatedly between his teeth. Hmm … there was something about that look that suddenly made my knees feel a little weaker and to my surprise I felt a low ache of arousal settle in my belly. Crikey, this was all very unexpected. I hadn’t dated for a while, a long while, I’d been too busy to even notice men, but apparently right now in a strange house, with an equally strange and apparently irritable man was the moment that my body was deciding to react. Just frigging typical.
‘Look, I’ve been up for the last forty-eight hours, I don’t need sarcasm. You’re in my bloody house, who the hell are you?’ he demanded in a low, gritty tone, which while causing goosebumps to rise on my arms, also indicated that perhaps now was not the time to push this guy with my runaway mouth.
Keeping it short and sweet I tried to soften him with a smile, but it didn’t seem to have any effect whatsoever. ‘Sarah’s ill, I’m covering for her. I’m Allie.’
Nodding once he rubbed a hand through his short, dark hair, leaving it spiky and messy and pulling my gaze to the tightness of his bicep as he moved his arm. Gosh, he was so well built it would almost be criminal not to look. ‘Well, Allie, as I just said, I’ve been up for the last two days and I really need to sleep so leave the damn hoovering and just have a tidy up instead.’ Any random attraction I had been feeling was doused by that remark – he spoke as if I had turned on the hoover deliberately to wake him!
His condescending tone had my annoyance building again and I narrowed my eyes at him as I straightened my spine. ‘You weren’t even supposed to be here today, so don’t have a go at me for trying to do what I’ve been asked,’ I replied tightly.
As hard as I tried to ignore it, I noticed that he was doing that lip-rolling thing again, and in response I found myself licking my own lips. What the heck was I doing? This guy was acting like a stuck-up idiot and I was here appreciating his good looks? I seriously needed to get a grip!
‘Yeah, well, I’m back early and I need to sleep and eat, so just make some food and leave it in the fridge.’ Apparently he was lacking in manners too, so I raised my eyebrows at his rudeness like I did with the children in my class, ‘… please,’ he added wearily and I nearly smiled at his foul temper. Watching him, I briefly thought that perhaps he looked familiar, but I couldn’t place where I knew him from and I’d certainly remember if I’d ever been to a house like this before.
Shrugging it off I decided it was probably just his good looks that were continuing to confuse me, because even if he was a moody bastard I had to grudgingly admit that he was definitely a very attractive guy. With his minimal clothing there was no disguising the raw appeal of his well-muscled body either – the light covering of hair on his chest looked soft, filling me with an urge to touch it, and the angles of his stubble-covered chin were very manly and particularly sexy. All in all it was a rather nice view, if I’m honest.
In the space of two minutes in his company I felt like I was well on the way to losing my mind, so drawing in a shaky breath I tried to clear my head before looking back at him. To my annoyance I found him watching my appraisal of his body with apparent amusement. From the smug smirk on his face I realised with horror that my goofy expressions must have made it pretty obvious what I was thinking. Damn my traitorous body, damn this bloody job, and damn this man.
Annoyed at my own lack of control, I refused to show him that I was bothered by his presence and so turned in the direction of the kitchen without so much as a backward glance, ‘Fine, I’ll make you some food and leave,’ I muttered. Unconsciously I realised I had crossed my arms over my chest as I strode from the room – clearly I was feeling a little defensive from my run in with the nameless, and shirtless, handsome stranger.
Chapter Two
As fast as I worked I still hadn’t managed to finish the pasta and casserole before the first thick flakes of snow began to fall outside the window. Cursing under my breath I shoved the food in the fridge, grabbed my bag, and started to shrug my jacket on as I dashed for my car. If I was lucky I could escape the twisty country lanes and get to the main roads before it got too bad.
To my dismay, the flakes were already falling quickly as I emerged from the house, and judging by the eerily silent white landscape around me it had been doing so for quite a while. Annoyed at myself for not noticing the layer of snow earlier I threw my bag onto the passenger seat, slid into my car, shoved the key into the ignition, and turned it, praying that it would start. It did, and I’d never been more relieved or thankful in my entire life.
Ramming it into first gear before the engine could change its mind, I went to pull away when my front wheels immediately started to spin uselessly below me. Lightening my touch on the accelerator I muttered a small plea under my breath and tried again. And again. After five minutes and several more failed attempts the only progress I had made was a marginal skid to the right. ‘Bloody bugger it!’ I yelled, while banging my hand on the steering wheel several times.
Jumping from the car I slammed the door as hard as I could and then vented my frustrations through yelling a stream of expletives as I stomped around my useless hunk of junk. My breath steamed in the cold air as I sighed heavily and shook my head; I knew I should have had the tires changed at the last service, but the mechanic had told me they had a bit of life in them yet. It seems he was wrong.
I spent a good ten minutes getting soaking wet as I tried to build ramps in front of the tyres from pebbles hoping that they might help me get some grip, but the snow was falling so quickly that they were covered and useless by the time I tried them. What should I do? Glancing back at the house I grimaced so hard that my eyes scrunched up. There was no way I was asking him for help. Whoever ‘he’ was. So instead I turned purposefully and rooted around in my boot, producing my sleeping bag and thermal survival blanket. Thank God I’d been too lazy to clean out my car since my camping trip late last summer. I’d snuggle down and wait it out. It couldn’t snow forever, could it? As soon as I saw it start to clear I’d have another attempt at moving the car.
Settling myself in the driver’s side again, I wrapped myself up as best I could and prepared for a rough few hours ahead. On the plus side at least I had a fairly full engine so I could keep it running and my decrepit heater turned on.
Unfortunately my optimism was soon quashed; after ten minutes I had pretty much lost the feeling in my toes, after fifteen I was shivering uncontrollably, and by twenty minutes my wet gloved fingers were stinging so much that they felt like they had been bitten by a thousand wasps. Huffing out a frustrated breath I suddenly yelped loudly as someone knocked briskly on the window of my car, sending snow cascading to the ground and clearing the glass so I could see out of my icy cocoon.
As I looked out of the frosted glass I saw the nameless owner of the house stood there in a snow jacket, waterproof trousers, and boots, looking annoying warm and dry and holding a mug of something which was temptingly sending plumes of steam into the air.
Disliking him even more now, I reluctantly forced my frigid fingers to draw the window down a few inches. ‘What’s the problem?’ he asked conversationally, as if it wasn’t screamingly obvious what the issue was. If I could have felt my legs, I swear to God I would have jumped out and kicked him.
‘The snow is much heavier than I thought and my car can’t handle it, I just keep skidding. I’m going to wait it out, I’m sure it will pass over soon enough.’ Although judging from the colour of the clouds, that might be wishful thinking on m
y part.
‘You can’t stay out here, you’ll freeze. Come inside,’ he told me in a presumptuous tone that somehow rubbed me up the wrong way, but simultaneously made me feel all pathetically melty inside too. Sneering at my pitiful female hormones I dug deeper into my sleeping bag and turned away from him to avoid the temptation of further ogling. Seeing as I seemed to have some strange sort of blatant attraction to this equally strange man I was decidedly unwilling to go back inside with him. He made my insides feel warm and gooey when my brain was telling me that he was a rude, pompous prick. It was an unfamiliar imbalance I didn’t like at all, so I decided to play it safe and stay away. ‘I’m fine here, thank you.’ Although I wouldn’t mind whatever warm beverage that was in his cup.
‘Have it your way,’ he murmured, then taking a teasing sip of his drink he turned and walked back into the house, leaving me staring at his retreating back in disbelief.
What a bastard! I was completely stunned that he was just going to leave me out here in the cold, even if that was what I’d told him I wanted. So he was a chauvinist pig and ill-mannered? My treacherous mind was midway through trying to remind me of his good points, like his muscular build and startlingly handsome face, when the door to my car was wrenched open and I was dragged from my sleeping bag and tossed over his shoulder like a rag doll.
Kicking my car door shut he then strode into the house, ignoring my kicking, yelling, and flailing, toed his boots off, climbed the stairs, and deposited me roughly onto my feet by the side of a large bed. Being carried from the car had made my head dizzy and legs wobbly, or perhaps that had just been the effect that touching this man had had on me, but suddenly my knees gave way and I plonked down onto the soft bed.
‘I’m not having your frozen corpse on my conscious. This is my spare room – dry off, warm up, and when it is safe to leave you can. Not before. No more ridiculous stubbornness and no more unnecessary risks. Understand?’ He was actually rather imposing, I realised, as I took in this man’s huge frame and steely eyes again. His tone or stance didn’t leave me any room for refusal, so I licked my lips nervously and nodded.
