by Cherry Kay
I joined Mikey on the other side and linked his arm. We were laughing all the way to the reception desk until I noticed who was on duty.
“Miss Poole!”
“Grace.” She nodded at me. “Did you forget you had an important family commitment today? What are you doing here?” She looked me up and down and then looked Mikey up and down too.
“Not at all, Miss Poole. There's been a slight change in location and personnel to my plans, that's all. If you would like to take a look I believe you'll see I have the Excelsior Suite booked for two nights.” I looked at Mikey. He raised his eyebrows at Miss Poole.
“You have what!” She looked over the top of her glasses at me. “Is this your idea of a joke? Have you come to gloat, Grace?”
“Miss Poole, as if I'd do something like that. Just take a look at the computer and you'll see I'm telling the truth.”
She turned slowly to the computer screen behind the desk, her eyes not leaving me until the last second. I saw her do a double take and take her glasses off and on several times.
“Yes, it says it right here. Grace Danvers and Mikey Doyle. Apologies, Grace, I've only just arrived for duty so I had no idea...but how...?” Her mouth remained open.
“Miss Poole, are you okay?” I asked.
“Yes, fine. Er, your keys, here are your keys.” She handed them to the bell boy.
“Thank you.”
“I have your cases, Grace,” Johnny, the bell boy said. “Would you like to come this way?” He winked at me.
We followed Johnny along the wide corridor. The carpets were deep and our feet made no sound. The paintings along the walls had gilt frames and I remember having to dust every one of them, all those years ago. I never suspected that one day I might walk past them as a guest.
Johnny stopped outside the Excelsior Suite and opened the door for us. He let us through and then laid our cases just at the door.
“If that will be all for now, Grace, enjoy your stay and let us know if there's anything else we can do to help you further.”
Mikey dug his hand into his pocket and jangled some loose change around. Johnny put out his hands.
“No, that's all been taken care of. Everyone working today has received a handsome tip from Mr. Iglesias and we were not to expect anything from you. Merry Christmas, Grace.”
“Merry Christmas, Johnny.”
He left us alone and I spun around in the enormous entrance hall to our suite. The Excelsior was very rarely used. It was the most spacious and expensive suite of them all. It had a lounge, a dining room, two bedrooms and two en suites. Especially for us, the hotel had set up a medium sized pine tree in the living room. It was delicately decorated with lights and silver baubles.
“Look, Gracie, this is where the elves with good taste come to decorate trees. The guys who did yours should come up here for some lessons.”
I punched his arm.
“Shut up, Mikey. I've never trimmed a tree before.”
“Next year, I'll show you how.”
He hugged me.
All of the windows in the rooms were tall, wide and grand. The curtains were in the finest of raw silk with voile netting that allowed us to look onto the street but allowed no-one to look in. The curtains were all tied back with silk sashes and I knew that in this suite, the staff were required to come up and close the curtains at night and pull down the bedding.
I couldn't wait. Mr. Iglesias always called me La Princesa Negrita and that day I really felt like a real princess.
The bedroom we chose had a four poster bed. When I was chambermaid, I remembered trying all the beds in the luxury suites and wishing that for one night, one of those beds could be mine. Anything to escape my chilly bedroom in Brooklyn – and there I was.
We were on the top floor of the hotel so there was a roof garden that only got used in the summer months. But that was all right, Mikey and I would not be leaving the hotel for two days.
I ran a deep bath in one of the bathrooms and Mikey got in with me. We ordered champagne with our meal and ate it while still wearing our thick and luxurious bath robes.
We turned out the lights in the living room and looked at the tree. Mikey's arms were around me as I leaned my back into his chest.
“I'm sorry I didn't buy you a Christmas present, Grace.”
“Well, I didn't get one for you either, so we're even. Maybe next year.”
Mikey held me tighter and untied the front of my robe. He ran his hands softly up and along, down and across the front of my body. I reached both my arms up towards his neck and leaned my head to one side as he kissed the side of my face. Tender and loving kisses. I could feel the heat of his body behind me. I turned to undo his bathrobe, just to let some of that heat out. I pulled the robe off his shoulders and let it drop to the floor.
Mikey lifted me up and carried me to the room with the four poster bed. He lay me down, very gently and helped me off with my robe. His lips followed a slow pattern from my toes, up my legs, along my thighs and up to my stomach were he stopped to caress my navel with his tongue. He began to move up my body with those kisses, lingering a while just before reaching my neck.
I closed my eyes as he kissed my lips and lay on top of me on our enormous bed.
“I was wrong,” I said.
“Wrong?”
He looked at me, puzzled.
“Yes, I wanted to experience Christmas like a real family would. I pictured the tree, the bird, all that food and drink and a great big group of people sitting around, singing carols and telling jokes. Then everyone arguing about who was going to take on doing the dishes before they all got too drunk to bother. That's what I thought it was all about.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah, but this is what it's all about, just being with the one you love. Even if we were in a cave right now, I'd be happy.”
Mikey rolled off me and onto his back and looked up at the ceiling.
“What is it,” I said leaning up on his chest.
“You know that Christmas you just described, with the food, the drink, telling jokes and getting drunk?”
“Yes?”
“Well you just described the typical Christmas day at my house back in Boston. I was kinda hoping, you know, that if we made it to next Christmas without killing each other, that maybe, just maybe you might want to come and spend it with my family.”
“Mikey,” I beamed down at him, “I thought you'd never ask.”
He rolled on top of me and kissed me again. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him closer. We'd make it to next Christmas, I was sure of that.
The End
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Should only take a moment!
ALSO BY CJ HOWARD
SEDUCED BY MR BIG STUFF
Harvey Mann has it all. Good looking, Wealthy, Intelligent and he can have any woman he wants.
Well almost any woman that is...
Stacey fails to see what other women see in him. She sees him as an arrogant player who is totally in love with himself. He is the type of man she was warned by her mother to stay away from.
However, fate eventually brings her and Harvey closer and Stacey begins to discover his more sensitive side which leads her into discovering exactly how Harvey got the nickname of “Mr Big Stuff”....
Is Stacey set to become yet another notch on Mr Big Stuff's bed post or is there something more to this relationship? Furthermore, has Mr Big Stuff finally met a woman who can actually challenge him?
START READING THIS NOW!
BOOK 4
MIRACLE IN LONDON
CHERRY KAY
About This Book
New York girl Marsha is enjoying her blossoming relationship with B
ritish gentleman Jonathon over the recent months. However, with Christmas approaching he has to head home for the holiday season leaving Marsha feeling lonely.
So she jumps on a plane to go and surprise her English lover however when she arrives in London she gets the shock of her life...
1
He rang the doorbell with some urgency. Marsha opened the door to her apartment wearing just a towel.
“I wasn't expecting you until later,” she said, smiling.
He dropped his briefcase inside the front door and attempted to free her from the peach colored towel that contrasted with her nutmeg colored skin, still gleaming from the oils in her bath.
“Wait,” she said, pressing her hands against the front of the expensive suit he was wearing. “You'll have my neighbors talking.”
He followed her into the living room where he tried again to pull off her towel but she skipped out of his reach.
“Jonathan, it would be nice if you could at least say hello before pouncing on me.”
She ushered him inside and he had to admit defeat. That towel was not coming off her that easily. Instead he went over to the liquor cabinet and poured himself a drink. He looked over to where she sat with her legs crossed on the luxurious, leather sofa.
“I missed you, Marsha,” he said. “You don't know what it's like not to see you for weeks at a time.”
There it was, that cute English accent. It made her crazy every time he opened his mouth.
“I miss you, too, Jonathan. You think I don't? I mean, I really wish you lived in New York but...”
“But, I live in London and we shouldn't be wasting time talking about how much we miss each other when I only have a few days with you before I have to go back.”
“Well,” she said, opening her towel and spreading her arms wide over the back of the sofa. “What are you doing all the way over there?”
He slammed the glass of bourbon down onto the counter. He undid his tie and ripped off his jacket while taking several long strides across the room. Falling to his knees in front of her, he raised a hand to gently caress her cheek as she leaned forward to kiss him.
She sat back as he slowly parted her legs and moved closer to her. Closing his eyes, he sank his lips into hers again and stroked the soft brown skin, supple and smooth with hints of the aroma of jasmine and lavender oils. His cream white hands cupped her breasts, he brought his lips to them and she threw back her head. Leaning forward now, she undid the buckle of his belt and unzipped his pants. He guided her onto her back on the sofa and entered her, gently, but began thrusting deep and hungrily until they both collapsed in an intense wave of pleasure.
They lay together on the sofa for a long while, holding the other close.
It was Tuesday evening. Marsha had not been home long, and was expecting to join Jonathan for a meal at their favorite restaurant at nine, but he had taken an earlier flight. She would like to think it was because he couldn't wait to see her, but with Jonathan, business always came first.
“Should we get something to eat?” Marsha, who had her head on Jonathan's chest, looked up at him.
“The thing is, Marsha, I've got a dinner meeting in twenty minutes with the New York office. One of their top accounts is taking us out and then there's a really early breakfast meeting with the Vice President.”
Marsha sat up and reached for her towel.
“So you're going already?” She looked down at the floor as she sat up, her bare feet touching the deep rug beneath the sofa.
“I'm really sorry, Marsha I'll make it up to you next time I'm in town.”
“Next time you're in town? So this is just a flying visit?”
“I'm afraid so.”
Marsha stood up and closed the drapes to the living room window and turned on a side lamp.
“So, when will you be gracing these shores again?” she asked.
“Maybe some time in February,” Jonathan was fastening the buttons to his shirt and looking for his tie.
“That's quite some time you'll be in London. I thought you'd at least be around for Christmas, it's only next week. Don't you get a holiday?”
“Yes, but I'm afraid I'll have to spend it in London, Marsha. I'm really sorry.”
“Well what's happening in London that's so much more exciting than being here?”
“Family. My mother is planning a great big get together this year. Everyone is invited, it's going to be madness.”
“And I guess I can't be included in all the madness...Never mind, don't answer that. I know we've only been seeing each other six months, I guess that's too soon to expect an invite to meet the folks.” She propped herself onto the arm of the sofa as he sat fixing his tie.
“My parents are very traditional, Marsha.”
“And by traditional, you mean racist?”
“No, not at all. No, don't misunderstand, my parents are just like me.”
“So you've told them about me?”
“Well not in so many words, but Marsha, it's still early days and you haven't taken me to meet your parents either.”
“True.” She got up and grabbed a notepad and pen as Jonathan put his shoes on. “Here,” she said. “Write down your address and I'll send you the present I planned to give you.”
“Oh, Marsha, you don't have to get me a present.”
“Does that mean you haven't gotten me one?”
“Well...I...er...”
“Never mind. I don't give to receive. Write it. If I change my mind about the present, at least I can send you a card.”
“It's only ten days to Christmas, it won't get there in time. Why don't we just plan something for February when I come back? I'll be here at least a month and that will cover Valentine's.”
But Marsha shoved the notepad and pen into his hands and he scribbled his address when he saw the face she was pulling.
“Listen, I'd better go,” he said, standing up. “I'm late as it is. I'll call you tomorrow from the airport.”
He handed her the notepad and kissed her on the cheek. She felt deflated, she had a new dress she wanted to wear for dinner and now Jonathan would never see it.
Marsha walked him to the door where he picked up his briefcase and gave her one last lingering kiss. She watched as he waited for the elevator and blew him a kiss. They gave each other one last wave and she closed the door.
Coming back to the living room, she slumped onto the sofa. Her first impulse was to call her friend, Jodie and complain to her about Jonathan not being there for her at Christmas. The second was to go the freezer and find some ice cream to eat.
She found her bath robe, wrapped it around her and switched on the television. She folded her legs under her and opened a large tub of Rocky Road. The spoon she had was also on the large size. On the television there were several advertisements showing couples at Christmas and an array of presents that lovers could buy for each other. She spooned in large heaps of ice cream and thought about how lonely she would be over the holidays.
She flicked through the channels, Bing Crosby was singing a Christmas song to Rosemary Clooney in White Christmas. She changed the channel again, there was a Christmas special with Nat King Cole singing all her favorite songs. She turned off the television and decided to call Jodie after all.
“Hey girlfriend. I thought you were going out with lover boy tonight,” Jodie said.
“So did I, but it seems lover boy had other plans.”
“What? He met someone else?”
“Why do you always jump to the most dramatic of conclusions? No, he's in meetings and going back to London tomorrow. He won't be here for the holidays and I was really banking on him being here.”
“Oh, that's a shame. Well, you know you can always hang out with us over the holidays instead. I mean, whenever Jonathan is town, you always kick your girls to the curb.”
“That's not fair. I only get to see him every few weeks. I can see you guys all day and every day.”
“Yeah, but you don't,
” Jodie paused, she didn't want to bawl Marsha out for neglecting her girlfriends, especially since she sounded so down. “You're really serious about this man, aren't you?”
“I guess I must be. It was just a bit of fun to start with. That's all I wanted. I mean, when he came up to me in that bar, I knew he wasn't from here and guys like him are just passing through and out for all they can get. Well, that was all right a few months ago, but Jonathan and I get on so well. We have the same sense of humor, we like the same food, music, books. I mean it's unbelievable. I start a sentence and he finishes it. I say something and he says I took the words out of his mouth.”
