by M. Robinson
“That little asshole,” he mutters.
My eyes widen. I grab the note to see for myself.
Lee & Georgia-
Happy holidays.
-Caleb Grant
P.S. Don’t forget to invite me to the wedding.
I don’t know Caleb Grant very well, so I’m not sure what his intentions were when he sent this, but it’s not a stretch to imagine a smirk on his handsome face as he penned that note for my sometimes overly jealous boyfriend.
Boyfriend.
A happy smile claims my lips.
At the wrong time.
“Is this funny?” Lee demands, looking none too pleased.
“No? I think it’s nice.”
“Nice?”
I nod. “He sent you a gift. What’s wrong with that?”
Lee’s eyes narrow. “It’s not a gift, it’s a taunt.”
It might be, but it would serve no one to admit that. “It’s probably not a taunt. But even if it is… He’s a jerk. You know he’s a jerk. This isn’t news. At least we have champagne,” I point out, looking on the bright side.
Lee shakes his head and veers toward the kitchen. “I don’t need his fucking champagne. I’ll throw it in the trash.”
I grab his shoulder and try to pull him back. “Oh, come on. It’s a nice bottle. It was nice.”
“Smug little prick,” he mutters, shrugging me off and walking into the kitchen.
I hurry to catch up to him. “Don’t throw it away. It was a gift. Let’s open it and enjoy it.”
He’s nearly to the garbage can. “I’ll enjoy throwing it in the trash, how’s that?”
“I have a better idea,” I say playfully.
My tone snags his interest, so he stops and looks back at me. “What?”
Backing away slowly, I start unbuttoning my red satin dress shirt. “Why don’t you grab two glasses and bring them upstairs? We can have a nice, hot bath…” I undo another button, then another.
My shirt falls open.
Lee’s gaze heats as it rakes over me.
When his molten brown eyes meet mine, I think he’s forgotten all about throwing away the champagne.
At least until he says, “I have an even better idea.”
“Yeah?”
He nods and walks closer, carrying the champagne with him. “How about we open the bottle and I’ll pour it over your tits.”
I draw in a sharp, excited breath.
He moves closer, his gaze hot as it meets mine. “Then I’ll lick every bit of it off your naked body before I fuck you.”
I swallow, feeling a touch more languid at the promise in his words.
Lee stops in front of me, locking an arm around my waist and pulling me close.
“I like that idea,” I murmur, winding my arms around his neck.
“Yeah?”
“Mm-hmm.” I press my lips to his cheek, then tilt my head and kiss his strong jaw. “I like it a lot.”
“It’s settled, then.” He leans in and kisses me, then unlocks his arm from around my waist so I can move toward the bedroom.
Feeling a little mischievous myself, I look back at him and smile. “Maybe we should send Caleb a thank-you card.”
His eyes narrow to slits.
Nervous excitement makes my tummy jump, even though I know he’s not really mad.
Maybe we’ll play like he is. That was awfully fun the other night.
“That’s it. You better hope I don’t catch you,” he threatens.
A thrill shoots through me as I shoot up the stairs with a big grin on my face and Lee hot on my heels.
He can chase me all he wants, but he knows I’ve already been caught.
I’m his. Always have been, always will be.
When he grabs me and drags me into the bedroom, I forget all about the sexy red negligee I wanted to change into before bed. I forget about the Cristal and his promise to lick it off me. I think he forgets, too, but we’ll get to that later.
We’re wrapped up in each other, and that’s better than anything we had planned.
He fucks me to the point of exhaustion, a nice little bonus from his triggered possessiveness. Afterward, I lie naked and sated in the dark bedroom with his strong arms around me, wondering how this can be my life, if it can ever get any better than this.
Then he nuzzles his face into my neck and murmurs, “I love you, Georgia.”
My heart swells and I melt into a puddle. I think some part of me knew he did, but to hear him say it…
Well, that’s the best Christmas gift he could’ve given me.
Rolling over, I smile up at him and thread my fingers through his hair. “I love you too, Lee. So, so much.”
He already knew that, so he’s not surprised, but he does look at peace.
I’m at peace too, now that we’re together. It feels new, but like we’ve been together all our lives at the same time.
“I’m glad we’re spending Christmas together,” he tells me, his tone serious. He hesitates, then adds, “Last Christmas wasn’t so great for me.”
I didn’t see him last Christmas, but I know it’s a particularly difficult holiday for him now. He went from having a family to share the day with to spending it all alone, and that’s not fun for anyone.
“I’m glad we’re spending Christmas together this year, too,” I say simply. Then, with a gentle smile, I ask a touch teasingly, “Do you think we’ll spend next Christmas together?”
His voice isn’t teasing at all when he answers. “Yes. I think we’re going to spend all of them together.” He locks his arms around me, pulling me close. I’m not sure if it’s a promise or an order when he murmurs, “Every last one.”
Whether it’s a promise or a demand, it’s all I want in the world.
Joy fills my heart, then spills over the sides because there’s just too much to hold in.
I snuggle into Lee’s warmth and close my eyes. I’ve never felt happiness like this before. “Thank you,” I whisper.
“For what?” he asks.
I smile and kiss his chest. “For everything.”
He’s quiet for a moment, then he grumbles, “I’m the one who should be thanking you.”
I tip my head back and peer up at him. “For what?”
He leans down to brush his nose against mine. “For being mine.”
* * *
Want more sexy dark romance from Sam Mariano?
The closest I ever wanted to get to him was several rows away in English class. We’d never spoken, but of course I heard the stories about his family. I know they’re dangerous. I know he’s dangerous. Vince never had a reason to notice me, anyway—until I inadvertently witnessed his first mob hit.
One-click ACCIDENTAL WITNESS here >
O Holy Night
Pam Godwin
Chapter One
Tinsley
Two years later
The ballroom was spiteful. Full of backstabbers, politicians, and other chinless wonders. And I was out of practice.
For two hours, I bit my tongue through their tasteless conversations, keeping my comments to myself. Behaving. That was my only job tonight.
Behaving had never been my strong suit.
I was standing beside the governor’s son, overlooking the crowded room, when I reached my limit.
“I don’t know which sags more.” He gestured at an older lady on the dance floor. “Her tits or her ass.”
Giggles erupted from his flock of socialites. The meaner his insults, the louder they laughed.
“What do you think, Tinsley?” He flashed a reptilian smile.
“I think she’s lovely.” I stroked the rim of my wineglass. “Which is more than I can say for the past ten minutes in your company. You’re such a miserable sack of shit you can’t stop the stench from bubbling past your lips.”
Fury reddened his cheeks. “You little fucking—”
I tripped, feigning clumsiness, and splashed red wine across his face and down his tux.
/> “Whoops. Looks like I need another drink.” I handed off my empty glass and breezed past him, relishing his stunned silence.
Childish? Totally. But oh-so-satisfying.
My mother would hear about it, and I couldn’t bring myself to care. Though I should.
It didn’t matter that I’d moved away from Bishop’s Landing and fallen in love with an outsider. I was still the precious princess. The belle of every ball. Heiress to the Constantine dynasty.
Every day, I endeavored to be something more.
Something deeper than money.
Stronger than privilege.
Better than my family name.
I’d spent the past year in the White Mountains in Maine, sowing my dreams, surrounded by rescued animals, and isolated from the greed and the corruption and the power games.
There, I could pretend I wasn’t a Constantine.
There, my smile was as pure and real as the alpine air.
But I had obligations, and one of them was to spend the winter holidays here, attending formal events while wearing a smile that felt like plastic on my face.
Grin and bear it as they say.
My husband wasn’t thrilled to be here, either. But if Magnus could endure my mother’s dinner parties, I could, too.
Maybe.
Tonight was supposed to be a small gathering, just close friends and family to welcome me home. But Caroline Constantine’s idea of small amounted to dozens of the most powerful players in Bishop’s Landing.
Oh, how my mother loved her fancy parties.
Cultured voices swirled around me as I strolled among the glitter of gowns and tuxedos. Clinking crystal. Cloying perfume. The thrum of a harp. Amid it all, I felt him.
His gaze traced the length of my exposed spine, licking my skin with fire. He chose this backless dress for me and hadn’t let me forget a single cutout, slit, or cinch of its fabric since the moment we’d arrived.
The clingy gown wasn’t the reason he watched me like a calculating predator. Magnus kept me under constant surveillance because he was protective, jealous, and possessive. Because I was his.
On the rare occasions we weren’t together, he placed other eyes on me. Bodyguards who watched and reported back. They stood in the shadows even now, but it was only Magnus I felt.
I felt him in the tightening of my pulse and the trembling in my thighs. I didn’t need to peer over my shoulder to mark his location across the ballroom. I sensed him with the entirety of my being.
Making a slow turn, I met his luminous blue eyes. Smoldering eyes. Feverish. All hunger and sin.
Beautiful people floated around him, every flawless face paling in the strikingly gorgeous, goddamn intimidating intensity of his presence.
Chiseled jaw, sultry lips, muscled physique, perfectly styled brown hair—his formidable appearance turned heads and commanded the attention of every woman with a heartbeat.
I shivered. Skin, blood, breath.
He bent a perceptive brow.
The temperature between my legs rose sharply, making me squirm and clench.
Until a hand appeared on his chest, stroking his black lapel. A feminine hand. Another grazed his jaw, attempting to coax his gaze away.
He dismissed the woman’s touch with a flick of his wrist, his hypnotic eyes locked on mine.
She reached for him again.
My fingernails bit into my palms. He wasn’t the only one in this marriage with a jealous temper.
Get rid of her, I mouthed.
The distance between us obscured the tiny nuances of his expression, but I knew his facial muscles were flexing beneath the dark shadow of his jawline.
He didn’t take well to commands, and God help me, the bastard had a mean streak. More importantly, he excelled at playing the game, which was the reason he was still alive and married to me, rather than dead at the hands of my mother’s henchman.
But his marriage to me had come at a cost. His life now belonged to the Constantine dynasty, and to survive my family, he didn’t just have to play the game. He had to play it better than them.
Everyone in this room was my mother’s pawn. I didn’t recognize the stunning redhead at Magnus’s side. I didn’t care if she was a friend or foe of my family. My only concern was that she’d effectively stolen my husband’s attention.
No, he was giving it to her. Gazing at her. Charming her with his seductive smile.
My pulse thundered in my ears as I stormed forward, fists flexing to strangle. I wove around crowded tables, dodged a uniformed server, and slammed into my brother’s chest.
“Turn around.” Keaton caught my elbow. “Walk the other way.”
I stared up into his eyes, the same bright blue as mine. He was the youngest of my three brothers, classically handsome, irritatingly protective, and lucky I adored him. Otherwise, I would’ve driven a knee into his groin.
“Not now, Keaton. I’m feeling stabby.” I pulled free and sidestepped him.
He moved with me, blocking my path. “You’re not causing any more scenes tonight.”
“The fuck I’m not.” I craned my neck, straining to see around him. “Out of my way.”
“He’s working, Tins.” He hooked an arm around mine, attempting to guide me in the opposite direction. “Mother’s arranged important meetings for him while he’s here. Leads on new acquisitions.”
“He doesn’t work for our mother.” I dug in my heels and glared at the woman who was currently thrusting her tits in Magnus’s face. “Who is she?”
“An heiress, attorney, politician…” He shrugged. “Does it matter? Your husband’s only interest is keeping you safe, and to do that—”
“He must play the game.” I gritted my teeth.
With power and wealth came dangerous enemies. But as long as my family reigned over Bishop’s Landing, we held the safest position. Our biggest rivals, the Morellis, would be the first to take that from us. Oh, they would love to pick us off one by one, watch us crumble, and bury our bones. They’d already started with the murder of my father.
“What did you say to the governor’s son?” He escorted me away from the crowd.
“Only the truth. He’s a despicable cunt.”
A server swept by with a tray of champagne. I grabbed a flute, lifting the bubbly drink toward my lips.
Keaton plucked it from my hand and returned it to the tray. “You can’t fuck with these people, Tins. We need them on our side.”
Goddammit, I hated that he was right. I hated Bishop’s Landing and my family’s role in it. But spewing insults and embarrassing our allies wouldn’t abolish generations of tyranny. I needed to be smarter. Smart like my husband.
“Why did you take my drink?” I glanced around for the server. “Find me another.”
“You’re underage.”
“You’re overbearing.”
“You’re…” He went still, distracted by something near the entrance. “Shit.”
I followed his gaze to our mother, and big surprise, the governor’s son stood at her side, adamantly yapping in her ear.
She didn’t scowl as she listened to his complaints. Scowling produced wrinkles, and she was too classy for that. Her disapproval manifested in other ways, like in the chilling glare she now aimed at me.
I straightened my spine. She raised her chin. Then she headed my way.
“Incoming.” Keaton turned toward me. “I’ll smooth this over. Go. Save yourself.”
Laughter hitched my chest. “You’re ridiculous.”
He chuckled with me. “I mean it. Run along.” A stern look. “And stay out of trouble.”
“Where’s the fun in that?”
I planted a kiss on his cheek and left him to deal with our mother. It was for the best. He wasn’t her favorite child, but he certainly wasn’t her least favorite. I’d secured that spot when I slept with my Catholic school teacher. The head priest.
If God existed, he would be more forgiving of my sins than my mother. I ruined her grand plans
for my arranged marriage and gave Bishop’s Landing enough juicy gossip to whisper about for decades.
Oh fucking well.
I waved down the closest server and grabbed another wine. Was this my fourth drink? Fifth? I hadn’t taken a single sip tonight. Simply holding the glass gave my hands something grown-up to do.
As long as I refrained from tossing it into the face of another guest.
Across the room, a few others had joined Magnus and the mysterious woman. He appeared to be engaged in the conversation, yet his disarming gaze was deadlocked on me.
Merciful God, I could stare at him all night. He was irresistible. Sexy as hell. So insanely gorgeous I couldn’t see straight. I couldn’t see anything but him.
He suffered the same affliction, with his lips slightly parted and his body so still. The way he regarded me lay waste to everything around us. Time halted. The ballroom vanished. Nothing existed but him and me and the love that bound us.
My breathing fell out of sync, and my mouth watered, desperate for him. I ached to feel him against my lips again. His kiss, his cock, his unholy virility filling me with mindless pleasure. Christ, I wanted to be filled with him. Day and night. I wanted him to fuck me constantly.
That was what he did to me. With a single look, he made me lose my mind.
“Magnus asked you not to drink tonight.” My bodyguard’s deep voice drifted over my shoulder, shattering my fantasy.
“Asked? That’s a generous way to put it.” I didn’t glance back at Galen. I couldn’t. Not without breaking eye contact with my favorite pair of eyes. “Magnus doesn’t ask. He growls commands and surrounds me with babysitters.”
“I’m not your babysitter.”
“Then don’t breathe down my neck.”
His chuckle ruffled the loose tendrils of my swept-up hair. “You enjoy my company.”
“I enjoy the company of bats and opossums.” A smile twitched my lips. “And maybe, a few choice humans.”
Galen was one of those humans. He didn’t just work for us. He was my trusted friend.
“I’ll be right over there.” His breath retreated. Then his footsteps.
All the while, Magnus’s gaze stayed with me, stroking the bodice of my gown, caressing my neck, kissing my lips, and heating my body with sexual longing. Every part of me was alive and pulsing. Aching. Wanting.
