by J. S. Scott
“What has you so nervous, love?” He glanced over at her before turning his attention back to the road. The plows had done a decent job of clearing the storm, and surprisingly enough, the temperature spiked to above freezing so the snow was now starting to melt.
The woods and fields had turned into a perfect winter wonderland, white and sparkly, like the world was covered in diamonds and everything was given a fresh start.
Aidan’s SUV handled the snow with ease and he was a confident though careful driver. Not that she could blame him for being cautious, given his past.
“I’m still not sure I should be coming with you. And please, whatever you do, do not tell your parents that I’m moving in with you.” This could be a disaster. Then they’d definitely think she was just trying to get her claws into him.
“You’re worrying far too much about this. They’re going to be ecstatic to see us, and if you think they won’t realize you’re a big part of getting me out of the house and over there to visit them, then you’re mistaken. They’re good judges of character, and they’re going to love you.” He gave her a sideways grin that made her heart melt, though she still wasn’t sure.
“What if…” She let out a weary sigh, and tried to keep her heart from aching. “What if they’re disappointed that you’re with me?”
His jaw tensed and his knuckles went white around the steering wheel. “No one in their right mind could be disappointed in you. Do you hear me? It’s time someone appreciated you for all you are—because you’re damn special, Chloe, and I won’t have anyone treating you otherwise. I’m telling you now—if anyone treats you with anything less than the respect you deserve, they’ll be answering to me. Are we clear?”
All she could do is nod, though her heart swelled with love to know he cared enough to get upset on her behalf, even if part of his anger was because of the way her father treated her.
“Here we are, love.” He pulled the SUV down a long drive to a pretty red farmhouse, decorated with pine swags at the windows and a wreath made of cranberries hanging on the front door. Against the backdrop of pristine snow, and with a lit Christmas tree in the large mullioned windows, she couldn’t have picked a more perfect image.
“It’s gorgeous, Aidan.” Nothing extravagant, but nicely done, and quintessentially New England.
With the car parked, he turned towards her and cupped the back of her neck, pulling her in close for a sweet kiss, his stubble ticklish against her skin. “They’re going to love you, sweetheart. Are you ready?”
With him at her side, she might be ready for just about anything. The way he looked at her, as if she were perfect, as if the rest of the world and its problems disappeared when they were with each other… it sent her heart tumbling, so she suddenly found herself head over heels in love with him, her heart beating a staccato against her chest. “You make me believe anything’s possible. So, yeah. I think I am ready.”
He took her hand as they wandered up the path to the front door, her shoulders and gut in knots from the adrenaline coursing through her. And though he seemed relaxed, she, too, could sense the tension in him. This couldn’t be easy for him either.
He didn’t bother to knock, but rather let them in, leading the way as they stepped into the living room where everyone was gathered. He gave them a shy smile that made her want to hug him, securing the hold he had on her heart. “Don’t suppose you have room for two more?”
The room around them erupted with surprise and happiness as his family rushed forward to greet them. Aidan hugged his father and then his mother, who already had tears in her eyes, before turning to hug a dozen more people—aunts, uncles, and cousins by the look of it. Chloe did her best to step to the side so they could have their time together without her getting in the way, though it wasn’t long before Aidan was reaching back for her hand.
He pulled her close with a reassuring smile, even as her heart threatened to beat out of her chest, not sure his parents would be too keen on having an intruder interrupt the moment. “This here is Chloe. She’s a college friend of Finn’s…and quite special to me.”
She must have blushed a dozen shades of red at his words. She shook his father’s hand and was then pulled into a long hug by his mom, when Finn walked into the room, his long gait only adding to his laid-back charm. He looked so much like Aidan with his handsome good looks—though Finn was clean-shaven, his hair more tousled and a shade lighter, and he wore a grin that always spelled trouble.
“No way! Chloe—what the hell are you doing here, girl?” He pulled her into a hug that had her feet dangling a foot in the air.
“I got trapped on Mermaid Isle during the storm, and Aidan was nice enough to let me weather out the storm with him.” It was the truth, even though there was a bit more to their story. Still, she didn’t think she needed to spell things out for the group assembled when they’d walked in, hand in hand.
His mother gave her a genuine smile that was filled with so much emotion. “Well, we’re so glad Aidan brought you along. Just in time, too—we’re just getting ready to eat.”
Finn hung an arm around his brother’s shoulder. “And the ham is damn good—bourbon and brown sugar-glazed—though I swear, if there’s any missing, it wasn’t me.”
Aidan shook his head with a smile that had Chloe’s heart skipping a beat. “It’ll be a miracle if there’s any food left at all, if no one stopped you from wandering into the kitchen.”
She loved the banter between them, especially since it reminded her so much of her own brothers. She’d have to call home. Maybe go and visit once she knew the roads were clear.
Standing by the Christmas tree, the lights sparkled as the heady scent of pine filled her head. Aidan pulled her into his arms and kissed the top of her head, and though they were off in a corner on their own, she knew their hug hadn’t gone unnoticed.
Settling against his chest, he bowed his head to hers as her heartbeat picked up his rhythm so they beat as one. “Chloe…I hope you know how much you mean to me. And it goes beyond giving me my life back. I look at you, and I can’t believe how lucky I am.”
“I think we’re both pretty damn lucky, Aidan. You’ve made me realize that I can’t second-guess myself, and let guilt rule my life.” It’d been hard for her to come to that realization, but she felt at peace for the first time in a very long time. She’d do all she could to make sure her family was fine, but she’d stop feeling guilty about living her life.
“I couldn’t have said it any better myself.” He gave her a sweet kiss that made her forget there were others in the room. “I love you, Chloe. As crazy as that may sound. But I swear it’s true. I love you with all my heart.”
Her heart swelled with such joy and love for him, it ached. “I believe you, Aidan, because I swear, I love you too.”
He cupped her face, and looked at her with eyes she’d never tire of losing herself in. “I’m hands down the luckiest man, Chloe. Merry Christmas.”
She stole just one more kiss, thinking that he wasn’t the only one luck had smiled upon. “Merry Christmas to you too, love.”
*** THE END ***
For more Mermaid Isle novels by Cali MacKay please check out her Amazon Author Page, or her website, http://calimackay.com. For a sample of Seduction and Surrender – The Billionaire’s Temptation Series, a FREE novel by Cali MacKay, please read on.
Seduction and Surrender
By Cali MacKay
Chapter One
The knife was a blur in Emma’s hand as she chopped the onions for the night’s service, her prep cook having left her in the lurch again. She tried to be understanding of true emergencies, but getting too drunk the night before wasn’t a valid excuse for missing work the following morning—yet again. And of all the days to be short-staffed.
“You need to get going, Em. Leave it. I’ll finish that up.” Jake shouldered her out of the way and took over the prep she was working on. “And make sure you take a shower before going to that meeting. Ryker wil
l never agree to extend the lease if you smell like onions and a butcher’s.”
She wiped her hands on a rag, her mind racing and her stomach in knots as her nerves got the best of her. Formal meetings of any sort always put her on edge, especially when there was so much at stake. “I swear, I could kiss you. Thanks. I owe you, big time.”
He shook his head with a sigh and a teasing smile, his brown eyes lighting up. “Promises, promises.”
With a wave, Emma grabbed her bag and rushed out the door, quickly checking the time on her phone as she fumbled with her keys. If she hurried, she’d just make it. And there was no way she could be late. The fate of her restaurant depended on this meeting being a success. If she couldn’t get her lease renewed, she’d lose everything—and it wasn’t just her life’s savings and her restaurant that were on the line.
Letting herself into her studio apartment, she quickly stripped and turned on the hot water. Her shower spit to life, the pipes clanging and stuttering before releasing a weak spray of warm water. She cursed her landlord and the hot water heater that seldom delivered actual hot water, and stepped in for a quick shower. At least the temperature guaranteed she wouldn’t linger.
Between the towel and blow-drier, she managed to half-dry her hair before pulling it back into one of her no-nonsense ponytails, and since she didn’t have much in the way of fancy clothes, a pair of skinny cream pants and a silky pink tunic would just have to do. She looked at her shoes and cringed. No way could she wear her go-to work clogs, but there was a good chance she’d kill herself in heels. She groaned, knowing she had little choice and already regretting her decision as she squeezed her feet into the silver pumps she’d bought when she was a bridesmaid for her cousin’s wedding.
She slicked some gloss across her full lips, and jogged out the door, nearly killing herself in the process, and already running five minutes late. Of course, traffic was miserable with tourists filling the town to go foliage peeping, only adding to how late she was. There just better be parking when she finally got there.
There wasn’t.
By the time she found a place to park, she was three blocks away from where she needed to be. Kicking off her heels, she hightailed it barefoot to the fancy high-rise that housed the offices of Ryker Investments, and one Quinn Ryker. Thankfully, the residents of Portmore kept their city fairly clean, or she’d have had to add stitches and a tetanus shot to her list of things to do that day.
With her pulse thrumming, she rushed through the glass doors and across the marble floor, thinking it was a damn good thing she was still barefoot. Those floors would have been her demise if she’d been wearing her heels. Twelfth floor, but no suite was listed. She just hoped it’d be obvious once she got up there. She spotted the elevator about to go up.
“Hold the elevator, please!” Emma practically dove in between the closing doors—and right into a wall of hard muscles and the arms of a total stranger.
With her heart now racing for a completely different reason, her gaze wandered across a broad chest, all the way up to sexy stubble on a strong jawline, and dark mussed-up hair that made the stranger’s eyes stand out in contrast—mesmerizing, intelligent eyes the color of spring grass. The man was heart-stoppingly gorgeous in a rugged animalistic way, and so damn tall, that his presence left her feeling tiny and delicate, even if she’d never before thought of herself in those terms.
She managed to suck a breath into her lungs while still in the stranger’s arms, gripping his massive biceps through his worn leather biker jacket, butter soft with age and wear. Yet the way he was built, and the ease with which he carried his large frame, made her think that his muscles were the kind earned through hard work rather than the gym—and damn, but she’d love nothing more than to see those muscles in action.
He looked down at her with one eyebrow lifted in question as she all but blushed, though she made no move to extricate herself from his muscular arms, her brain and body clearly having fried themselves due to his close proximity. And it sure as hell didn’t help that he smelled like leather, fresh ocean air, and pure man.
“Sorry.” What the hell was her problem? “So incredibly sorry.”
Juggling her, in addition to his motorcycle helmet, the man easily shifted her back onto her feet as if he were used to having to free himself from crazy women. His lips twitched into a hint of a smile that nearly made her heart stutter and sent a blush flaming across her cheeks. “No worries, sweetheart. You won’t ever hear me complain about having a pretty woman fling herself into my arms.”
Emma suspected it was likely a common occurrence, given that the man was smoking hot, in a way that few men were. He had a presence that demanded attention, like a feral creature so rare and dangerous, one couldn’t help but look in awe. And the fact that he easily stood over six foot three only added to it.
Snap out of it, Emma! The man was probably thinking she was off her rocker.
She forced herself to take a deep breath, her thoughts slowly returning to normal as if her brain was finally starting to function now that there was a bit of distance between them. Remembering why she was there, she pressed the button for the twelfth floor.
Shoes! She stepped into one of them, and then attempted to get the second one on while balancing on the spindly heel of the first.
Just as she was about to go down again, her handsome stranger reached out and steadied her with a hand on her waist, his fingers pressing firmly into her flesh. His touch, the command in his hold, sent a jolt of electricity through to her core and reminded her that it had been far too long since she’d last been with a man. And this man? She had no doubt he was capable of mind-blowing, knee-weakening, When-Harry-Met-Sally types of orgasms.
His eyes locked on hers for a moment before wandering to her lips, and then over her entire body, his smile kicking up as his gaze lingered over her curves. “Are you going to be all right, sweetheart?”
Sweetheart… The way he said that word made her heart skitter.
Still wobbly, she finally managed to get the second shoe on, though she didn’t attempt to pull out of his arms, since the last thing she wanted was to sprawl at the feet of this man-god. “Sorry. Again.”
“You’re not going to go down in a heap if I let you go, are you?” His brow kicked up questioningly, sending her heart racing.
“It’s these heels. They’re not my norm, but I’ve got an important meeting, and…” Emma let her excuses fade. Damn, but the man smelled good. It took all the will she had not to suck in a deep breath or start licking him from head to toe. Before she did something even more embarrassing, she somehow found the strength to pull out of his arms, though the absence of his touch felt like a pang deep inside her chest. “Thanks. I should be fine.”
The elevator chimed and came to a stop, the doors sliding open. “This is me. Stay vertical.” He was off with a wave, leaving her to finally breathe easy once more, though her heart had yet to slow its fevered racing.
She was still feeling rattled and off-kilter when the elevator reached the twelfth floor. The doors slid open and she quickly realized why there wasn’t a suite number. It turned out that Ryker Investments occupied the whole floor. She told herself not to get angry or annoyed with the fact that this company, that already had so much, was trying to wipe her dream off the face of the earth.
Trying not to wobble, she made her way to the front desk, ignoring the look she got from the receptionist as she gave her name. Nancy, according to the name tag on the desk, tapped on her keyboard and then gave Emma a smile. “He’ll be with you momentarily.”
Emma took a seat on the plush, but all too modern, sofa and waited. And waited. She should be at her restaurant getting ready for the night’s service, instead of sitting there waiting to be graced with Ryker’s presence. And to top it all off, she’d nearly killed herself trying not to be late.
A handsome man in a well-fitting tailored suit showed up. Finally. Was this Ryker? Or just another one of his henchmen? She cursed h
erself for not taking a minute to look up the guy on the Internet. Time was just so damned tight. “Ms. Sparrow? If you could follow me?”
He showed her down a hall, opening the door to a large corner office, and then closing it behind her, leaving her stunned by the wall of glass and the amazing view. High up as they were, she could see all of Portmore and the ocean just beyond. A million-dollar view if ever there was one.
She took a wobbly step towards the chairs, her nerves completely on edge—until she saw the man behind the desk. Crap.
“Sweetheart—or should I say Ms. Sparrow?—I’m glad to see you’ve managed not only to remain upright, but more surprisingly, are uninjured. Have a seat.” Quinn Ryker…the man from the elevator…except that he’d tossed away the façade of the sexy biker. Though the stubble and just-fucked hair were still in play, he was now in a meticulously tailored business suit that probably cost him more than her month’s rent—and he still looked damn good, curse him. “What can I help you with today?”
Emma plopped herself unceremoniously in a chair, trying not to curse and feeling like a complete fool after the elevator incident. He’d probably had a good laugh, knowing exactly who she was the entire time. And damn, but he’d left her rattled. She’d gone over what she’d wanted to say to him a million times, rehearsed it in her head, knowing that there was way too much riding on this. And now? She couldn’t think of anything but cursing the bastard to hell.
Reaching into her purse, she pulled out the letter his company had sent her and thrust it at him. “You know full well why I’m here.”
Ugh…so much for trying to win him over to her side with niceties and logical arguments.
“You own the Old Port Bistro.” Quinn stood and walked around his massive mahogany desk, leaning against it and casually stretching out his long legs in front of him as if he didn’t have a care in the world. He loomed over her as she sat in the chair, only increasing the feeling that he had the upper hand. “I’ve been there on several occasions. You make a damn good steak. Consider me a fan.”
