by C. M. Steele
Christmas in Camden
Covent Garden Series
C.M. Steele
Copyrighted © 2017 C.M. Steele
All Rights Reserved
No part of this book may be reproduced, copied or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage or retrieval system without written expressed permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is purely coincidental.
Cover design: C.M. Steele
Cover Image: Shutterstock/Deposit Photo
The use of actors, artists, movies, TV shows, and song titles/lyrics throughout this book are done so for storytelling purposes and should in no way be seen as advertisement. Trademark names are used in an editorial fashion with no intention of infringement of the respective owner’s trademark.
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This book is intended for mature adults only. Contains sexual content and language that may offend some. Suggested reading audience is 18 years or older. I consider this book as Adult Erotic Romance.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Epilogue
Chapter 1
Holly
Snow fell all over the streets of London. Big Ben's roof lay covered in a blanket of white. This beautiful city felt like the front of a postcard. A faraway beauty that I never fathomed I'd see. Magical, that's what I'd call this bridge I walked across during the busy time of the day. "London Bridge," played in my head, making me feel like a little girl.
I leaned back against a railing, taking in the pretty scene before me. Wow, I felt alive inside. All my life, nothing felt normal or perfect, but this did. Being here in the historic city sent a rush of energy through me. Giddy as can be, I stared at strangers passing by. I was sure they could tell I was a tourist, a nutty one at that. I “oohed and aahed” at everything I passed. It was nearly four when I strolled along to the famous Covent Garden area. I took out my Nikon camera from my messenger bag with a pretty Union Jack on the front and snapped pictures all along the way.
I felt like I was in a large outdoor mall. There were stores all around or, as they called most of these places, shops. It was so cool. I squealed on the inside. How was it that a poor girl from the Southside of Chicago could fall in love with all things English? Okay, not the whole fish and chips thing. I needed to find out where they butchered cattle. This girl loved steaks. When I got my first paycheck at sixteen, I went to the nearest steakhouse restaurant and tasted a porterhouse. Now twenty, I was a bit on the curvier side, but I loved my food. I wasn’t a sweets girl, but the smell of Christmas in the air pulled me to the nearest cafe.
Feeling too cold, I decided a nice hot cup of chocolate would be great. A little “ting” let the employees know another customer came in or left, but the chime felt wholesome and welcoming. I smiled toward the guy at the register, so completely enthralled with the place that I didn’t realize that my smile would be misinterpreted. He winked at me with a rakish grin. My cheeks were rosy from the cold, so I don’t think he noticed the blush. He was a decent looking guy.
“Welcome, Miss,” he greeted me. He had to be about my age and definitely a charmer.
“Um, hello, can I get a small hot chocolate?”
“You can have whatever you like, such a lovely American beauty.”
“I’m a dead giveaway?” I giggled awkwardly. I didn’t know if he was looking for a bigger tip, was this English friendliness, or if this guy was really hitting on me. I suppose as a tourist I caught attention, but I looked cozy in my boots with the fur at the top. They were comfortable and my feet were dry. Growing up in Chicago, I knew how to deal with brutal weather. It wasn’t that bad here in comparison, but this girl wasn’t a fan of the cold.
“Yes,” a voice replied, but it wasn’t the man named Gerald at the counter, but a gentleman behind me. He walked around and behind the counter and I mentally fell into a puddle. My body flushed. The room felt like it shrunk, suddenly overly crowded, and the temp spiked to a hundred degrees. In the same green long-sleeved polo and apron as the other worker was a man, a really handsome man. My heart was thumping like I’d never seen a good-looking gentleman before. He was almost a foot taller than me. Light brown hair and bright hazel eyes that the green polo brought out.
My eyes followed his as he gave Gerald a scolding glare. “Yes, Miss. It’s clear that you’re American, however, it’s also clear that you’re a bit chilled.” I always thought British accents were sexy, but this guy was the total package.
“Um, do I pay here?” I asked. I thought I saw a woman paying right before I stepped up.
“Yes, but this one is on the house,” he said.
“Um…thank you,” I replied, staring at Gerald, refusing to look at Mr. Handsome English Guy with a melt your panties accent. I didn’t know his name since he wasn’t wearing a nametag, but hot damn was he stunning.
“Please go down to the end and your chocolate will be there,” he grumbled. I looked up at him, wondering what changed his friendly demeanor. I gave him a quick glance, unable to hide the immediate blush.
“Thank you, again,” I muttered, moving down to get my hot chocolate. I don’t know if I was making it up or if he really was staring at me, but I could feel his eyes trained on my back.
I smiled cheerfully at the woman with blonde hair swept smoothly into a ponytail that lay over her shoulder. Wow, this woman had the look, perfectly beautiful. She handed the large cup to me. “Sorry, this isn’t mine. I ordered a small.”
“That’s what he put in the order. A large hot chocolate. Enjoy, Miss.”
“Thank you, Miss,” I returned the salutation. She had to be the same age as me.
“Welcome to London. How do you like it?”
“I’ve just arrived and I’m in love already,” I gleefully answered. I wasn’t sure if it was the smell of cinnamon in the air or the warmth of the season, but I couldn’t stop smiling.
“Looks like you’re not the only one. Please be careful, Gerry has a thing for American women.”
“Oh, I have a boyfriend back home.”
“Then he’s a fool.” That voice again. I closed my eyes, holding back the need to whip my head around in defense of my fake boyfriend. Calmly, yet apprehensively, I turned to him.
“Sir, I believe that’s for me to decide,” I said with a confidence I must have borrowed from somewhere. I was normally a strong person, but it was usually with people I already knew. Most people weren’t dicks enough to say something jerky to me.
“I’d say otherwise,” he baited, staring down at me with a sneering smirk as if he w
anted me to challenge him. He swallowed hard displaying his taut jaw and slight beard. I wondered if I pressed my hand to it, would it be as hard and firm as I imagined. His hazel eyes were glued to mine and I couldn’t take it anymore, I ducked my head down.
Chapter 2
Gavin
Bloody hell, I nearly jumped across the counter at the little bugger, flirting with my future wife. I didn’t know anything about her except that she smiled like an angel. She was bundled up like she hated the dreadful cold and I couldn’t fault her. It was most awful. Her long brownish-red hair was covered with a winter cap, and her scarf went up to her chin. The tight pants showed the shape of her legs. She was sexy as hell. I tried to stand there with the tray straight. I wanted to pull her under the mistletoe and kiss her. I wanted to carry her out of here like a beast over my shoulder and take her to my flat.
Heavens, I was grateful that my secretary accidentally boggled my schedule. I wasn’t supposed to do the volunteering until next week during the holiday rush, but when I walked into the office, she raced into the office panicking like a mad woman on the brink of hysteria. I believe that she deserved an extra holiday gift for it.
“Oh, I have a boyfriend back home.” Instantly, those words needed to be wiped clean from my brain. The ire I felt was of the highest order. That sod needed to be throttled.
“Then he’s a fool,” I informed her. What man would allow his woman to go away on holiday without him especially during Christmas? My family would be livid if I stayed away from the family. We gathered every year for the holiday and not once did we forgo. Even when my sister went into the hospital to deliver my nephew, we brought the festivities straight there.
She looked up at me with bright eyes and those rosy cheeks that begged to be held. Her voice shook when she said, “Mr…”
“I’m sorry. My name is Gavin Daniels,” I divulged, sticking out my hand to have a small excuse to touch hers. She had removed her mittens, but her hands were still warm and smooth. I may have taken the liberty of caressing her soft skin, my thumb lightly touching her pulse.
“Mr. Daniels, is there something I can help you with?” Her question came off softer than I think she wanted it. I presume that she was trying to push me away, but failed miserably.
“Miss…” I paused, waiting for her to tell me her name.
“Holly Carlson,” she responded breathily. The way her eyes widened and her pupils dilated as she gazed up at me created a longing I had never experienced before.
“Holly, please have a seat and warm up.” I wanted to say more, but I realized I had an audience and even though most wouldn’t recognize me there was enough attention on me. I didn’t want our relationship public until she trusted me. I wasn’t a philander or anything of the sort, however, she was in a foreign country with at least two men vying for her attention. I didn’t need the media on her because my family would be testing personal boundaries the moment they received word of her existence. They were the reason that at twenty-eight I didn’t date. My relationships never lasted longer than a month because my family thought none of them were worthy of me. In the long run, none of the women I dated were worthy. With the lack of relationships, rumors of my sexual preference have run rampant.
“Thanks,” she nervously answered. I could see I made her anxious, but it wasn’t because I intimidated her. It was because she was interested. She wouldn’t look at me, but when she did, I saw the look of desire in her eyes. She moved over to the little bistro table I directed her to sit at.
I wanted to sit with her, but I was still working. “Please don’t leave,” I told her.
“Okay,” she said absently, twisting her lips nervously. She needed to relax and so did I. My virility, my feral need, and my pulse demanded that I make her mine.
I walked back around the counter and gave Gerald a warning. It was low, concise, and unmistakable. “Your conduct could cost this company tons of money.”
“No offense, sir. She’s hot and young. Why wouldn’t I want to get to know her? I didn’t do anything. In fact, I think you scared her away.”
“Get to work,” I muttered, walking to the back for a moment. I had about twenty minutes left, so I was going to try and kill time until I could be with her. Cleaning the back passed the time faster than I expected. I came out to a mad rush of people and handled it with poise while still keeping an eye on her as she played with her camera. The clock seemed to move at a snail’s pace. Once it struck quitting time, I tossed the apron on the counter, thanked the owner, and walked over to Holly’s table.
She looked up from her camera with her bottom lip tucked behind her front teeth. She was too pretty for words. She glossed her lips up while I was in the back and that kind of added to the need to kiss her. She wanted to look good for me, or at least the way I saw it.
“Are you warmed up, Holly?” I asked, seeing her cheeks blush brighter than they already were from the cold air. I pulled the chair out, moving it slightly closer to her before sitting. I leaned forward and brushed my hand along her heated cheeks.
“Yes, Gavin,” she stuttered, her pulsing jumping as my fingers tapped down her neck.
I pulled back, aware that I might be coming on too strong. “Tell me, Holly. What brings you to London?”
“It’s London.” She shrugged, tipping her head to the side and smiling. “I wanted to see it and, well, I saved up for the trip.”
“Why didn’t your boyfriend come with you?” That was a million-dollar question for me.
“Um…because he’s not real,” she confessed. Tension I didn’t know I was clinging to rolled off my body.
“You’re a fibber it seems.” Mentally I was dancing, whilst I remained stoic and feigned a bit of indignation. Thank fuck it was a lie. I might have played dirty if she did have a bloke in America.
Her face hardened, then she took a breath, calming herself down before tearing me a new one. “Perhaps I don’t like to be overwhelmed by multiple men at once. As handsome as you are, you can’t tell me that you haven’t played taken to avoid issues.”
“I can honestly say I wouldn’t lie claiming to be dating anyone I wasn’t.” The press would have a field day searching for the woman. My family would love to meet her, then spend the rest of their time trying to find a way to push her out of my life. It wasn’t hard for them to do it with the other women, even though, I never let them meet a single one. Holly was different. They could try as they might, but I wouldn’t trade her for all the Crown Jewels.
It was time to get the proverbial ball rolling. “Since you are single and legally old enough, I believe that you must have dinner with me.”
“Yes, I’m twenty, but I don’t know that going to dinner with you is a good idea. I don’t know you from anyone else.”
“You came to London all alone and you don’t trust anyone. That’s a bit odd. Walking alone implies no fear or foolishness. Since I can’t see you as a fool, I believe it’s the fearlessness.”
“It’s more that I had no one to go with and life’s too short to waste when I don’t know what tomorrow will bring.”
“Then take a chance and have dinner with me. I assure you, you are safer with me than alone.”
“Yeah, isn’t that something a serial killer would use to lure his victim?”
“I suppose that is a valid point. However, I am not a serial killer. I want to show you the beauties of London in hopes that you’ll stay.”
“My visit is only for a week, so I’ll be home before Christmas.” That was what she thought. I had every intention of getting her to stay in England permanently by my side.
“Why the rush back home?”
“Rush? A week is a long vacation for most. I have a job to go to and school to finish.”
“I highly doubt school is in session during the holidays. What do you do, Holly?”
“I work in my college cafeteria,” she answered, tucking a piece of her hair behind her ear.
“Oh, so you don’t have to return so soo
n,” I argued, feeling like I made a fair point.
“As a man that works in a café, you can understand that budgeting is important. I can’t afford to stay longer. There, now you know.” Shit, I didn’t want to offend her. I could buy her whatever she liked. I wonder if I should tell her who I truly am, or leave it a secret.
“Very well, if it is a week you have, it is a week that I shall take. Come, there are many great things to see.” I stood up and took her hand in mine, lifting her from her seat. “Give me one moment.” I hurried to the backroom and gathered my outerwear.
When I returned, she looked stunned. “Is something the matter?”
“No, it’s just. You’re handsome. And wow, you don’t look like you work at this shop.”
“Thanks, but that is an unfair judgement of Gerry over there,” I teased.
“Yes, well, I think you were being unfair to him. After all, you and he were behaving no differently.”
“That is where you are mistaken. See, he was just trying to get into your knickers and send you along to America. Whereas I am most definitely trying to get into your knickers and tie you to my bed so that you can’t go back to the states.”
“That’s a bold statement for someone trying to convince me to go out to dinner with him,” she countered.
“I’m trying to be honest. Now, what do you say? I could show you around then we can eat dinner. I’ll be your personal tour guide on the streets of London.”
“I suppose it’s better to walk with someone rather than alone. And everyone here has seen you with me,” she reasoned. I knew a part of her was nervous and the other part excited.
“Wow, green really is your color,” she mused, staring up into my eyes. I’d always been told that green made my hazel eyes brighter and it would annoy me. But from her, it was a compliment very much welcomed.
“Thank you, I think you would look perfect in any color,” I replied, opening the shop door and escorting her out into the chilly air.
