by Fawn Lowery
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Under the Mistletoe
Copyright ã 2005 Fawn Lowery
Cover art and design by Martine Jardin
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.
Published by eXtasy Books, a division of Zumaya Publications, 2005
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UNDER THE MISTLETOE
BY
FAWN LOWERY
Dedication:
To all the hard-working Editors and Artists at eXtasy Books. Thank you!
Chapter One
Sonja Mercer was so angry she could hardly sit still in the airplane seat. She turned her gaze out the window of the plane, staring into the endless blue sky. Two days earlier, her imbecile cousin, Franky Mercer had gone behind her back and sold his half of the family business to Donovan Dix, a man from New York who was infamous for buying small businesses and quickly reselling them to make a profit. Mercer Warehouses consisted of a three-block section of large metal buildings stretching along port New Orleans on the Mississippi River, and provided the overseas shipping traffic with temporary storage for their goods. The business had been formed by Sonja’s grandfather, Marcus Mercer, and his brother William, then passed down through the generations until it was bequeathed to Sonja and Franky.
“Up until Franky’s birth, there was no stupidity in the Mercer family,” she bit out between clenched teeth.
“Did you say something?”
The voice was male, low toned and accompanied by a warm hand lightly touching Sonja’s left wrist. She jerked her head around, suddenly aware that her irate emotions had surfaced verbally and caught the attentions of the man sitting beside her.
A pair of sparkling blue eyes met her inquisitive glare, and halted the nasty retort on her tongue. Swallowing down the urge to tell him to mind his own business, she was shaken to the core by his drop-dead good looks. Dark chiseled facial planes accentuated by coal black hair and eyebrows immediately sent her senses toward the erotic. And then he smiled at her—a slow, sexy grin that displayed his perfect white teeth—and a throb of want grasped her insides.
“Were you speaking to me?” he further inquired.
His hand still lay on her wrist, and the smooth pads of his fingers seemed to be searing her delicate flesh. Even seated, she could tell he was tall. She had to tip her head slightly to look into his face. He was dressed in a cream-colored wool sweater with gray slacks, and as she stared at him, she became aware of his cologne, a slightly tangy aroma that beckoned to her female senses.
She gave a slight shake to her head, sending her tresses cascading across her left shoulder. “No,” she replied, feeling silly admitting she had been talking to herself. “I wasn’t aware that I had spoken out loud.” Her cheeks pinked slightly.
Both of his dark eyebrows rose slightly at her admission, and his smile broadened. “Holiday stress?” he asked, his thumb rubbing the sensitive skin of her wrist.
“No,” she said. “Business stress.”
Why had she said that?
She let out a long sigh and slid her hand out of his reach. Now if she could just manage to break eye contact with him—
“Want to talk about it?” he inquired. He slid the bulky sweater sleeve up past the gold watch on his wrist. “We’ll be in the air quite a while, and I hear talking about a problem releases tension.”
Sonja chuckled despite her anger. Why in the world would she divulge anything concerning her business dealings to a stranger?
“And I’m a very good listener,” he added, reaching into Sonja’s lap and picking up her hand. “Go ahead. Try me.”
Such an invitation, she thought, suddenly vividly aware of the stranger’s outward show of interest in her. His palm was smooth and warm, and her palm settled invitingly against it while his fingers closed over hers. A heady sensation stirred her senses.
Let it out, she thought. Go ahead and talk to him.
“I can’t possibly burden you with my problems,” she hedged. A little voice inside her insisted otherwise, but she refused to give in. She wasn’t in the habit of talking to anyone about her problems.
“I insist,” he remarked, giving her hand a squeeze.
She felt a sudden warmth bubble up inside her. He seemed so kind, she thought, trying to stifle the sensual urges he was causing her to feel.
“Well,” she began, feeling a little foolish. “Last week my cousin sold his share of our business to a man that I fear will try to take over the company.”
His left eyebrow quirked upward.
“If my stupid cousin would have come to me—I would have bought his share.” She pulled in a long breath. “Franky enjoys spending money, and quite honestly, he thinks himself a ladies’ man.”
The handsome stranger chuckled aloud, a deep resonating tone that sent a delightful shiver through Sonja’s body. He tipped his handsome head slightly as he turned inquiring eyes on her.
“And does your cousin put his personal life ahead of business?”
“Franky puts sex ahead of everything.” She blushed the second the words slipped from her lips. She wasn’t usually so free with her assumptions of people. But Franky had it coming, she guessed, reminded of an incident just that past summer. Franky hosted a swimming party at his lavish home and Sonja was foolish enough to attend—that was, until she glimpsed the guests parading around the pool naked.
“Lighten up, Sonja,” Franky insisted, stripping out of his bikini swim trunks. “Have a drink and let loose.”
“No, thank you!” she insisted, gathering her things to leave. “I’ve no intentions of becoming involved in one of your sex orgies!”
Amusement sparkled in the handsome stranger’s blue eyes. “I take it, then, that you are a bit old fashioned.”
Sonja’s arched eyebrows drew together in contemplation. She liked sex. But it was a private thing. And she had as yet any urge to attend an orgy.
“I don’t think business and sex are to be mixed.”
“Oh…I see.”
“Do you?” She felt her anger returning with lightening haste. “Or is mixing business and sex a man thing?”
He chuckled aloud. “What’s gender got to do with it?”
“Well, I’ve never had the urge to strip off my panties and fuck a customer!”
He caught her gaze. “Maybe the right customer hasn’t arrived yet.”
She sucked in a quick breath, turning her head away. She was talking sex with this handsome stranger. All at once, she realized her crotch was moist. Maybe it was time to change the subject. Or perhaps she should have stayed home. But on the other hand, there was no reason for her to stay at home and spend another Christmas alone, either. The trip was, in part, meant to occupy her time through the holiday season.
“Would either of you like a beverage?”
Sonja turned her head to see the stewardess had suddenly stopped her cart in the aisle near the seats. She quickly reque
sted a gin and tonic, telling herself that the liquor would settle her nervousness.
“Thank you,” she said accepting the drink her seat partner passed to her.
“Where were we? Oh, yes. You’ve never stripped out of your panties and fucked a customer,” he said.
Sonja almost choked on the swallow of liquor. In the next instant she was fully engulfed in a loud fit of coughing.
He took the drink from her hand and patted her back until she could get control of herself. When next she was able to look at him, she saw his handsome features lit with amusement. She at once burst into laughter.
“Who are you?” she asked when she was finally able to catch her breath.
“My friends call me Joe,” he answered, offering his hand. “And you are—“
“Sonja Mercer,” she replied laying her hand in his. “Nice to meet you, Joe.” She raised the mixed drink to her lips and took a sip, suddenly aware that her anger had dissipated and she felt much better.
“And you’re headed to Aspen?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“So am I. I’m staying at the Alpine Lodge. Are you a good skier?” he inquired. His eyes slid along her legs, clad in black spandex slacks and crossed at the knee. “With those long legs—“ His words broke off, as though suddenly thinking of another thing she could do with her long legs.
“I’m a bunny slope beginner,” she divulged. “This will only be the second time I’ve ever gone skiing. How about you?” Surely he’s an expert, she thought, her eyes wafting over his powerful physique.
“This is a business trip for me,” he replied, signaling the stewardess for another drink.
“Really,” Sonja remarked. Did she dare ask about his business? Or comment on the coincidence that they were both registered at the Alpine lodge?
* * * *
Sonja was near frozen by the time they arrived at the Alpine Lodge. The snow was coming down so hard that the giant wooden structure was only a shadowy blur situated at the base of the mountain. She clutched the collar of her parka with a gloved fist, tucking her nose down into its warmth.
There was a scrambling of hotel crew to get everybody safely inside the lodge, and the baggage unloaded from the rear of the tracked conveyance that had bought them up the mountain road from the airport. As Sonja made her way along the snow-covered walkways to the main entrance of the lodge, a thought took root in her head.
What if we’re snowed in for the whole week?
The steadying hand on her left elbow kept her from falling on the slick surface until she made it to the door. Once inside the lobby, the sheer beauty of the place made her jaw drop open.
Christmas was in full swing, including Christmas carols being played over the sound system. The wide lobby with its vaulted ceiling was decked out in red and gold. A multitude of twinkling lights spanned the arched staircase leading to the second floor. A massive evergreen trimmed in holiday elegance towered adjacent to a marble mantled fireplace.
The lobby was crowded with those streaming through the front entrance and those all ready occupying the couches and over-sized chairs before the roaring fire. Sonja was headed toward the front desk when she spied a bellboy striding across the foyer with her bag.
Finally they had arrived, she thought, getting in line to check in. A quick glance over her shoulder confirmed the fact that the handsome stranger she had chatted with so amiably on the plane had gone his own way. She felt a surge of regret, but then remembered he had said the trip was for business purposes. Perhaps his business contact was already checked in and he had gone to find his room. At any rate, he had been a very pleasant pastime on the plane and thanks to him, she had been able to put aside thoughts of Franky for a moment.
She felt the hand on her waist seconds before the long arm drew her back against a solid male body.
“I’d love to buy you dinner.”
Sonja knew it was Joe without turning her head to look at him. A sensual tingle traveled through her insides at the feel of his body pressed against hers.
“Eight o’clock in the restaurant?”
“Okay,” she managed to reply, then felt him withdraw. The strangest sense of regret filtered through her insides.
Chapter Two
Sonja’s room was on the second floor of the lodge, a spacious area with a large window that overlooked the front façade. She immediately drew the heavy drapery so she could look outside. It was near blizzard conditions, she noted, her eyes unable to see much past the frosted glass.
A wave of sadness suddenly washed over her.. Christmastime had turned into a lonely time for her since the passing of her parents two years ago.. Since then she had dreaded the holiday with its aura of gaiety and home comforts. Her thoughts took an abrupt turn toward Franky. He was all the family she had left—if she dared refer to him as family.
She turned from the window and raised the lid of her suitcase, deciding to unpack. As she removed the heavy woolen sweaters and stylish ski pants, she wondered if she’d even manage to get on the slopes once during her time at the lodge, since the storm seemed so intense.
Then she remembered the handsome man she was going to have dinner with. Joe. Funny, she didn’t even know his last name. Nor cared, she tacked on. He was interested in her sexually—judging from their time on the airplane and the ride to the lodge.
The thought made her drag in a deep breath. Joe could be the diversion she needed to get her through the Christmas holiday. And God knew she needed a diversion. Franky had dealt her a personal blow when he sold his share of the family business. A rush of hot tears sprang to her eyes. Of all the stupid people to have for a relative—
“Don’t think about it,” she said aloud. She had left town to forget for a while—not to spend the time reliving the incident.
She poked her clothes into one of the empty bureau drawers and took her cosmetic case into the bathroom. If she didn’t take control of her thinking—who would?
Joe.
The thought lodged in her brain. He seemed more than willing to monopolize her time.
And so, she should let him.
A short burst of laughter jumped from her throat. She hadn’t allowed herself any leisure time in almost a year. Holy cow! Had she gone that long without sex? She paused and gazed at her reflection in the wide mirror spanning the bathroom wall. Her life was pretty much all work.
She didn’t usually wear her hair loose on her shoulders. It was almost mandatory that she present a stern appearance to the employees of Mercer Warehouses, therefore she had adapted the severe look of a French twist pressed tightly against the back of her head. She had been in business long enough to know that men resented a woman for a boss, making it necessary for her to take a no-nonsense approach to running the warehouses.
She combed her fingers through her auburn tresses, savoring their silky feel. At twenty-eight, she had neither plans to marry nor a steady boyfriend. Maybe she was destined to be single all her life. She grimaced as her green gaze deliberately swept her lush figure. Well, deciding not to marry didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy a man...or sex.
She glanced at her watch and saw that it was almost dinnertime—time to meet Joe in the lodge restaurant. She smoothed her palms along her waist, then lowered them to skim across her hips. She’d change clothes, she decided. She had brought a vivid red cashmere sweater to wear with black leggings—she’d dazzle handsome Joe.
“Right,” she muttered, yanking her wool sweater over her head.
She didn’t exactly see herself as a beautiful woman—but men noticed her often enough. Perhaps it was her large globelike breasts and the regal way she carried herself. Or maybe she really was sexy, and just oblivious to the fact.
“Shut up,” she said to herself.
* * * *
She spied him at a small table near the window in the restaurant and a wanton throb pulsed through her insides. He was, perhaps, the most handsome man she had ever met. She bit her bottom lip. Handsome men are notorious for w
omanizing, she reminded. Her mother had always warned her about such things and Sonja guessed it was true, given her remembrance of her father’s escapades with women.
She shook her head, dislodging the memories. She’d only be at the lodge through the holidays, and then she’d never see Joe again.
“So have a good time,” she mumbled beneath her breath as she aimed her feet across the restaurant toward Joe.
He saw her approaching, watching her with interest in his blue eyes as she wove her way amid the tables, glimpsed the male heads turning to stare at her as she passed through the room. He stood to welcome her—or to lay claim to her--as she drew near.
Sonja allowed the welcoming kiss, a quick peck on her left cheek, and slid into the padded chair he held for her. He was even more handsome than she remembered—now dressed in black slacks and a navy blue dress shirt. His attire was hardly that of someone at the lodge to ski, but then she remembered he had said he was there on business.
“You look beautiful,” he complimented, his eyes drinking her in. “Red is your color.”
“Thank you,” Sonja said and felt heat rise to her cheeks.
She’d no sooner sat down than a waitress arrived to take their drink orders. Feeling as though she had earned the few days away and any bit of pleasure she could garner, she was delighted when Joe ordered a bottle of champagne.
“Let’s celebrate our new acquaintance,” he said and gave her a wink.
A wonderful idea, she thought as a shiver of longing coursed through her insides. Perhaps the following days would prove very interesting. She glanced toward the window near their table. A bevy of colored lights illuminated the front façade of the lodge and gave the falling snow a mesmerizing aura. Behind them, in the hustle and bustle of the restaurant crowd, a small combo played Christmas carols. The room was large and tastefully decorated with ropes of greenery and sparkling lights.
