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A Christmas Seduction
Daire St. Denis


Her first real ChristmasHer first real cowboy…Journalist Jolie Duval has escaped her killjoy family in order to enjoy a real down-home Christmas in Montana. Hello to mountains, snow, carols, delicious cookies and…whoa, one seriously hot hunk of a cowboy. Since Jo's experiencing the whole Christmas fantasy anyway, why can't she have a red-hot holiday fling? Thank you, Santa.Thaddeus Knight is definitely the best gift Jo has ever unwrapped. Their sexual chemistry is more intense than anything she's ever experienced. This cowboy knows when to be a gentleman—and when not to be a gentleman. But then Jo stumbles upon Thad's troubled past and his deep, dark secret. Is this man the love of her life…or the subject of the biggest story of her career?







Her first real Christmas

Her first real cowboy...

Journalist Jolie Duval has escaped her killjoy family in order to enjoy a real down-home Christmas in Montana. Hello to mountains, snow, carols, delicious cookies and...whoa, one seriously hot hunk of a cowboy. Since Jo’s experiencing the whole Christmas fantasy anyway, why can’t she have a red-hot holiday fling? Thank you, Santa.

Thaddeus Knight is definitely the best gift Jo has ever unwrapped. Their sexual chemistry is more intense than anything she’s ever experienced. This cowboy knows when to be a gentleman—and when not to be a gentleman. But then Jo stumbles upon Thad’s troubled past and his deep, dark secret. Is this man the love of her life...or the subject of the biggest story of her career?


“You must be a very good writer, because you’ve got an imagination on you...”

Jo laughed, partly because she was enjoying herself and partly because Thad had just voiced her thoughts.

Feeling good, Jo said, “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“Last night...” She hesitated, but only for a millisecond. “Did you see me...inside the tub?”

He leaned close, his mouth right beside her ear. “You mean, did I see you naked?”

“Yes,” she whispered, closing her eyes.

“Well, now, a gentleman would lie and say no.” He took a deep breath, like he was breathing in her scent. “The question is...” His breath sifted the hair at the side of her head, making her shiver.

“Would you like me to be a gentleman...or not?”


Dear Reader (#uc1a1f505-6eff-5d5b-82eb-16db7dd291d8),

I loved writing this book because it includes some of my favorite things (anyone else hear Julie Andrews singing “My Favorite Things”?) First of all, it’s a Christmas book and I LOVE Christmas. However, I’ve never written a Christmas story before, and I wondered how I could capture its essence on the page.

For a start, I decided my office needed to smell like Christmas, so I loaded my diffuser with essential oils like cinnamon apple and sweet pumpkin pie, which helped but also left me feeling hungry all the time.

I played Christmas carols while I wrote, and plastered snowy images on my windows so that when I looked up from my computer, it seemed like a winter’s day. Setting the book at the Silver Tree Guest Ranch in Western Montana, where there are snow-covered peaks and homey log houses, helped set the mood.

While this book includes traditional Christmas trimmings like mistletoe, homemade decorations, dogsledding, ice skating and stockings by the fire, I also wanted this story to be full of surprises. With this in mind, I put the heroine in an uncomfortable situation right off the bat. Think outdoor hot tub, a forgotten bathing suit and an overly helpful ranch hand with a penchant for disturbing the peace.

A Christmas Seduction is a story where family and strangers are thrown together, where there’s secrets and intrigue all mixed up with eggnog, Christmas carols and, of course, hot, passionate cabin sex (yes, please!).

So grab your favorite Christmas beverage, curl up in front of the fire and enjoy!

Daire St. Denis


A Christmas Seduction

Daire St. Denis






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author DAIRE ST. DENIS is an adventure seeker, an ancient history addict, a seasonal hermit and a wine lover. She calls the Canadian Rockies home and has the best job ever: writing smoking-hot contemporary romance where the pages are steeped in sensuality and there’s always a dash of the unexpected. Find out more about Daire and subscribe to her newsletter at dairestdenis.com (http://dairestdenis.com).


For CJ Carmichael


Contents

Cover (#u3e78745b-3b26-5b84-b4f2-03288ad8a282)

Back Cover Text (#u0826fd38-9a3c-5ad1-94a5-6f852f1bf144)

Introduction (#u168cd101-33e3-5913-a1c0-ba564d54e498)

Dear Reader (#u4b6ce01c-2e87-59d1-af38-09890c891e50)

Title Page (#ud0f65a34-b812-5d64-8fef-e0954e17aaa9)

About the Author (#ud60666fd-a4ab-5d93-bd10-69b9bdc91467)

Dedication (#u63abd6f8-10cc-5b14-93e3-076312323ac2)

Chapter 1 (#u28e88f4d-c3cc-576d-aed0-4eba7c764e89)

Chapter 2 (#u3a208b58-2abd-57fe-8032-f2e161936f6f)

Chapter 3 (#uef1ffafb-691b-5d4e-b2a1-4c0a56bf9d8b)

Chapter 4 (#u8282822e-246f-598d-b35c-ed5fd6765512)

Chapter 5 (#uc2ba3713-79a0-5103-b9b2-27b7f8ca6422)

Chapter 6 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 7 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 8 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 9 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 10 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 11 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 12 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 13 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 14 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 15 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 16 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 17 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 18 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 19 (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)


1 (#uc1a1f505-6eff-5d5b-82eb-16db7dd291d8)

A tip to travelers: always be prepared. No matter where you’re going, carry an emergency kit with food, water, matches and other essentials...like a bathing suit.

Jo Duval

JO DUVAL’S PHONE BEEPED—again—but she ignored it. She was too busy navigating the lonely, snow-covered road from Half Moon Creek to the Silver Tree Guest Ranch. Growing up in Chicago, she was no stranger to winter driving, except for the fact that it was so blasted dark out here in the Montana boonies. Plus, she was all alone. It was just her and Michael Bublé, singing about chestnuts roasting on an open fire. No one knew where she was—her family, anyway—and her flight had been changed at the last minute, so she was arriving a day early. She’d called and left a message at the ranch, so presumably the hosts would be expecting her.

She hoped.

Despite the heat pouring out of the vents in the rented Jeep, she shivered.

What if she got lost on these back roads? Or stranded?

Her mind wandered to a scenario where she was driving a mountain pass—which she wasn’t—and her Jeep skidded toward the guard rail, bumping against it so that she was face-to-face with the cliff and yawning abyss below. In her mind, she wrenched the steering wheel and at the last second, the Jeep swerved, spinning in the middle of the road and ending up in a snowbank on the other side. She’d have to spend the night in the vehicle. She mentally went through the contents of her handbag. What would serve in an emergency situation? She had two candy bars—okay, one and a half—a box of Tic Tacs and...

She reached for the can of soda in her cup holder, picked it up and gave it a gentle shake.

A sip of soda.

Things were not looking good. Did she have matches?

“I should really keep some, just in case,” she muttered to herself.

Her phone beeped.

“I hear you. I hear you.”

The light snow that had been falling suddenly intensified, so Jo turned on her wiper blades, though they didn’t help much. The radio crackled, like it was snowing in there as well, and she turned it off.

“Sorry, Mr. Bublé.”

Visibility was limited to about ten yards in front of the vehicle, and the way the snow came at the windshield was hypnotic, like she was in the cockpit of a spaceship driving at warp speed.

“Ground control to Major Tom,” she sang softly.

She glanced at the clock.

It was only six thirty? How could that be? It felt so much later. The guy at the gas station in Half Moon Creek told her it was a thirty-minute drive out to the ranch. That was almost an hour ago. Felt like two. Leaning forward, she peered ahead, hoping to catch a glimpse of...something. A sign? A building?

Lights?

Yes, those were lights up ahead.

Thank God.

The headlights lit on a large sign—Silver Tree Guest Ranch. A few minutes after turning down the lane, Jo could make out the buildings: a barn, an enormous log home and other structures, all defined by white Christmas lights. With the snow accumulating on the trees and the buildings, and the shimmering lights peeking through the piles, it was like she’d walked onto a photo shoot for a Christmas card. She parked beneath a sign that read Visitor Parking, got out—phone in hand—and took a couple of pictures.

“Too dark,” she muttered before making adjustments on the camera app in an attempt to capture the festive atmosphere of the place.

She held the phone in front of her and...heard barking.

Shit!

Three wolf-like creatures came bounding at her from the other side of the lodge. Jo dropped her phone and dove for the door of the Jeep. Her foot slipped and she careened off the side of the vehicle, landing flat on her butt in a pile of snow just as the beasts sprang at her, barking and yipping, about to maul her to death.

“Digger, down! Come.”

With hands raised to protect her face, Jo felt the hot breath from the animals’ snarling muzzles before they retreated, making whining sounds as they went.

“You okay?”

She lowered her hands to find a mountain of a man standing over her. He just went up and up. When he extended his hand, she flinched before realizing he was there to help.

“Come on. I got you.”

Hesitantly, she took his hand, and in one swift movement, he hauled her to her feet. Unfortunately, her boots were not made for ice and her feet flew right out from beneath her again. With the man’s hand still grasped tightly in hers, this time when she fell she pulled the stranger right down on top of her.

“Oomph.” She sucked in a deep breath. The man’s scent filled her lungs: cedar, smoke and something sweet. Licorice?

Practically nose to nose with him, she gazed into the stranger’s eyes, noticing how they crinkled at the corners. Nice. For some reason her gaze dropped to his mouth. Full lips tilted up at the edges, and the longer she stared, the broader the smile grew.

She cleared her throat. “Would you mind getting off of me?”

“Apologies, miss.” He chuckled.

She felt the rumbling of his laugh all the way through her winter parka. Jo did not share in his amusement. Embarrassment, on the other hand? Oh, yes. She felt that acutely.

The man eased off her and clambered to his feet. Once upright, he held his hand out for her again, making a show of bracing his legs this time. “Easy, now. I’d hate to crush you for a second time in less than five minutes of knowing you.”

She batted his hand away. “I’m fine.” Getting to her feet on her own was a necessity in circumstances such as this. She pushed herself up and dusted herself off, all the while eyeing the formidable canines who sat a few yards away, salivating and watching her with interest.

Like she was supper.

“You’re a guest, I take it?”

“Yes.” Never taking her eyes off the dogs, she edged toward the back of the Jeep.

“You’re early.”

“I am. I called ahead.” She hazarded a quick glance at the man. “Are you Dillon Cross?”

“Nope. I’m Thad. The hand.”

The hand? Was that a joke—at her expense—about the way he’d offered his hand to help her? She popped the back door of the Jeep and, after darting another glance at the pack of dogs, yanked her suitcase out. It toppled with a soft thud into the snow.

“Let me take that.”

Before she could refuse, Thad had already stooped down and grabbed the luggage. When she didn’t move because, quite frankly, the large, hairy beasts were blocking her path, he said, “Not a fan of dogs, I take it?”

“No.”

He whistled, a low note ending on a higher pitch. “Go on.” The dogs barked in response before the one in the middle ran off in the other direction, looking behind every few steps as if to make sure the other two followed.

“Thank you,” she said, going back to the place where she’d fallen, intent on finding her dropped phone.

“You looking for this?”

The man had her phone and was holding it out for her. She reached for it, but his grip stayed firm.

“You’ll never meet friendlier dogs. They’re the welcome committee around here. Just wanted to say hello.”

Barking, snarling and salivating was not exactly Jo’s idea of a warm welcome, so she let Thad know what she thought by making a grunting sound at the back of her throat.

“To each their own,” he muttered before trudging toward the lodge, suitcase in hand. However, once they made their way up onto the covered porch, he turned to her. “I’ve had Sue since she was a pup. She wouldn’t hurt a flea, let alone a guest. The other two are her offspring. They’re rambunctious, but gentle as spring lambs.”

“If you say so.” The stranger had an unmistakable Louisiana drawl, not what she expected to find in Montana. She supposed she should have anticipated dogs, however. Jo stomped her boots on the mat outside the door.

“If you’d like, I could introduce you to them...”

Thankfully the topic was dropped when the door swung open and a petite woman stood in the opening, a huge smile on her face and a Santa hat sitting at a jaunty angle on her head, covering red curls. “You must be Jolie! I’m Gloria Cross. Welcome to Silver Tree Ranch. We’re so pleased to have you.”

* * *

THAD SET JOLIE’S bag down in the entry of the ranch house. Four things tipped him off to her city-girl status. Her designer clothes, her designer bag, her ridiculous footwear and her fear of animals.

He nodded to Gloria while the new arrival removed her winter outerwear.

“I hope I’m not inconveniencing you by being early.”

“No, not a problem.” Gloria glanced at Thad. “Join us for supper? I made winter soup and biscuits.”

“I do love your biscuits, Ms. Gloria,” he said. “But I’ve got chores yet. I’ll grab something in the bunkhouse.”

“You sure?”

“Positive.” He tipped his hat to Gloria and when the other woman—Jolie—straightened from removing her winter boots, which were not meant for winter, he tipped his hat to her, as well. As she stood there in her oversized sweater and tights, Thad could see she was tall: arms and legs from here to there. She reminded him of the fawn that got trapped on the sheer ice of the pond last winter: brown hair, brown doe eyes with long lashes, long spindly legs...no coordination.

The image was so striking he had to cover a chuckle with a cough.

“Come by later if you feel like it,” Gloria called as he ducked back out. “Dillon’s itching to break into the rum and eggnog.”

“Thank you, Ms. Gloria, but I’m saving my imbibing for Tip’s Eve.”

The door shut behind him and he whistled for the dogs. They’d been sitting by the side of the house waiting for him, and he kneeled down in the snow to give all three a proper head scratch. As far as he was concerned, there was something wrong with a person who didn’t like dogs. Not that the canines didn’t like this Jolie woman. It was a good sign, because if the dogs didn’t like someone...well then, that meant there was really something wrong.

No matter. It wasn’t the first time one of the guests had been skittish around the animals. Even though the ranch had been open for business for only a little over a year, he’d seen it before. While Thad didn’t understand an aversion to dogs, he recognized that anyone who was booking a stay over Christmas didn’t have any other place to be. This woman had arrived alone, which could only mean one thing: she had no family to speak of.

Thad knew firsthand how lonely that could be over the holidays. It’d been eleven years...

Hell, what was he doing, ruminating over the past? That never did a man any good. Particularly him.

He stood and the biggest of the three dogs cozied up to his legs, rubbing against him before placing his paws on Thad’s thigh.

He knew what was coming next.

“Don’t you dare, Humper,” he warned.

But the young dog didn’t heed the warning. His tongue lolled out of his mouth and his eyes rolled back as he launched into the action that was his namesake.

* * *

AFTER A DELICIOUS DINNER of hearty chicken soup and warm biscuits, Jo sat at the desk in her room—the best guest room in the whole place, Gloria had said—typing notes into the file for Travel America Magazine. Thank God they had decent Wi-Fi, though Gloria had said they’d had to install a satellite because the service was so bad when she first moved here. Impossible to have a business these days without access to internet. Jolie arched her back and rolled her shoulders just as her phone beeped for what seemed like the millionth time. She should have turned off the ringer but she supposed she’d left it on as a sort of punishment.

“Fine,” she grumbled, picking it up and quickly scrolling through the messages. Ten from her mother. Two from her father. All with the same message.

Call me.

Or...

Call your mother.

Leaning back in her chair, she dialed her mother’s cell and waited.

“I’ve been trying to get hold of you all day. Why haven’t you called me back?” she asked by way of a greeting.

“I’m...” Jo gazed about the large room. The log walls made the space feel warm and rustic, and they were complemented by Southwestern accents: rugs, pillows, throws. “On assignment,” she finished absently.

“Well, I need to firm up the meal for the twenty-fifth. Your father wants halibut this year, so if you could bring a pilaf or risotto and a salad... Your brother is bringing the wine. We’ll eat at two and then I’m on call at the hospital from eight to eight.”

Jo squeezed her eyes shut. “I’m not—”

“Oh, and no gifts this year. We’re donating to Oxfam in lieu.”

“—coming.”

Silence.

Finally, “Excuse me?”

Taking a couple of deep breaths first, Jo said, “I won’t be there.”

“Why not?” Her mother’s tone was not disappointed or hurt. Just curious.

“I’m on assignment,” she repeated. “So, I won’t be in Chicago for Chris...for the twenty-fifth.” As theirs was an atheist household, Jolie’s parents did not approve of using the word Christmas. Instead they called it “the holiday,” “the twenty-fifth”—anything but “Christmas.”

It’s disrespectful to celebrate a day that honors the birth of someone or something we don’t believe in was the explanation she’d received when she was eight years old.

“Where are you?”

“I can’t say.”

“Why can’t you say?”

Yeah, Jo. Why can’t you say? “I’m investigating something.” She surfed through news articles on the web, hovering over the link to one about a trial involving alleged members of an organized crime ring. Clicking on the article, she skimmed while her mind made up a tall tale to tell her mother. “It’s a big story. Organized crime. If I can be the first to break it, my career will take off.”

“You should talk to your brother. He’s prosecuting a case right now involving organized crime.” Her mother’s tone was emotionless, which made it impossible to determine if she was trying to be helpful or making an assumption that Jolie needed the assistance of her brother.

“Look, Mom, I’ve got to go.” She paused. “Tell Dad I said hi.”

“Of course.”

“I’ll miss you.”

“Let me know how the story goes.”

“Sure thing,” Jo said, but her mother had already hung up.

She sat for a minute, staring blindly at her screen before finally snapping the laptop shut. What had compelled her to lie? Why hadn’t she just told her mother she was spending the holidays with friends or that she wanted to know what it was like to really celebrate Christmas?

Sighing, Jo pushed herself to her feet and went to open the blinds that covered the French doors leading out onto the deck. It was the reason Gloria had said this was the best room—next to hers and Dillon’s on the second floor, of course. This one had direct access to the deck and the brand-new hot tub.

She rolled her shoulders again, groaning because her neck and upper back were stiff and sore from the tension of driving through a blizzard at night. Falling flat on her ass probably didn’t help either.

Relaxing in a hot tub would be wonderful. Too bad she hadn’t thought to bring a swimsuit.

She unlatched the lock and pushed the sliding door open before stepping out onto the covered portion of the deck. Though she couldn’t see past the edge because of the inky blackness and falling snow, from the pictures on the internet, she knew the view from here would be spectacular. She closed her eyes, envisioning the picturesque scene she would wake up to tomorrow: forests and fields with mountains in the distance. A pond out front, surrounded by snow-covered trees.

Idyllic.

Jo opened her eyes. The soft whirring of the hot tub’s motor drew her close. She flipped the lid and steam rose up to greet her.

Go ahead and use it, if you’d like. Nothing like a hot soak on a snowy night, Gloria had said.

Jo trailed her fingers through the hot water. Oh, it would feel so good...

She glanced up at the house. The lights that should have been shining through the French doors and windows off the main floor had all been extinguished. Her hosts must have gone to bed.

She was the only one up. The only guest.

“Why not?” she whispered to herself, pulling her sweater over her head and dropping it on a nearby table. Next she pulled off her leggings and socks, followed by her underwear. She squealed softly when the cold air caressed her naked skin, and scurried up the steps of the tub. She stepped in gingerly while covering her bits before sinking beneath the water.

“Ahhh,” she sighed, letting her head fall back against the headrest. “This is the life.”

If her mother could see her now, she knew exactly what she’d say. Hot tubs are breeding grounds for bacteria.

She laughed softly to herself. Then her smile faded as she considered the lie she’d told. Why had she done it? It probably had something to do with the fact that her family thought her career choice was a waste of time.

You can’t make a living as a writer, her father had chided when she’d told him she was taking creative writing at college.

So, she changed majors and went into journalism.

Unfortunately so far, even with a journalism degree, her father had been right. Since graduation, the only writing gigs she could get were for online publications—for pauper’s pay—and freelance travel articles. Which paid only marginally better, and that wasn’t saying much.

Jo was determined to prove her family wrong. All she had to do was break a big story—kind of like the lie she’d told her mother this evening—and she’d be taken seriously as a journalist. The problem was, she had no big story. No leads.

Nothing.

Jo turned her head. A control panel blinked to the left of her and she tested some of the buttons. The first one turned on music, a mellow jazz something or other. That was nice. She tried another button and the lights inside the tub came on.

A downward glance revealed her state of undress and she pressed the button once more, except instead of turning off, the lights simply changed color from blue to red. Another touch of the button and the lights turned green.

“Seriously?”

One more time and the internal lights flickered, strobe-light-style, as if there was a dance party going on in the tub. One she was not keen to take part in.

Before she could hit the button again, the sound of a dog barking froze her in place, her finger stuck in pressing position.

Glancing up, she gasped to find the hand standing on the far side of the tub, grinning. “Well, heya, miss. Something I can help you with?”


2 (#uc1a1f505-6eff-5d5b-82eb-16db7dd291d8)

The best thing about traveling alone is you get to be the person you want to be because no one knows any different.

Jo Duval

THAD HAD SEEN the flashing lights as he made his way from the barn to the bunkhouse, and something had drawn him over. Had he known the dog hater would be naked—apparently she wasn’t all arms and legs—he’d have steered clear.

Probably.

“Just press that button one more time and the lights will go off,” he said as he backed up a step to give her some privacy. He could be a gentleman if he had to be.

The lights inside the tub went out and the woman became nothing more than a shadow surrounded by a cloud of fog. “Thanks. You can—”

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” Thad murmured to the hazy outline of the woman. “Ms. Gloria and Dillon just got the soaker last week. Haven’t tried it out yet myself, but I installed it, so I know how it works.”

“Right. Um, would you mind—”

“So, how long are you here for?” Thad asked, biting down on his lip to control his grin. He could be a gentleman, but he could also be a right jackass. Why he felt the need to torture this woman, he couldn’t say exactly.

“Oh, um...eleven days.” She cleared her throat. “I don’t mean to be—”

“Right on into the New Year? That’s a nice long stay.” Thad was having a hard time containing his enjoyment as he pressed on. “Do you enjoy winter sports? Skiing, ice-skating? That sort of thing?”

“I’m sure they’re fine, but—”

“Lots to do around here. I’m your man if you’re interested.” That sounded like a come-on, which was not his intention, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself from tormenting this woman.

“Look, Mr... What did you say your name was again?”

“Thad. Thaddeus Knight, at your service.”

“Mr. Knight. I’m all good. You can leave now.”

“Of course. Didn’t mean to disturb you, miss,” he lied.

“You didn’t disturb anything.” Her voice was high. Nervous.

“Okay then. You enjoy your soak and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Mmm-hmm. Bye, now.”

He glanced over his shoulder only when he hit the edge of the deck. Sound always traveled better at night, and he clearly heard the ornery woman swearing beneath her breath as he took his leave, the very mutts she scorned waiting for him at the bottom of the steps.

He shouldn’t have done it, shouldn’t have taunted her, particularly when he realized she was bathing in the raw. His grandmother would have said the devil possessed him, and that might be true. But he didn’t think that was all there was to it. There was something about the woman, something that drew him, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

* * *

JOLIE LAY SNUG under the covers, existing in that space between sleep and wakefulness. It was her preferred mode of waking every day because it was when her imagination took over, ungoverned by inhibitions and the critical internal editor who was her regular companion during the rest of the day—though so far, this morning had remained completely silent.

Perfect.

Jo revisited the scene in the hot tub, but this time she wasn’t embarrassed by her state of undress. This time she was bold and flirty. This time she flaunted her nakedness, turning the lights on in the tub—to red—instead of turning them off.

“What did you say your name was?”

“Thaddeus Knight. At your service.”

“You said you’re a hand. What does that mean, exactly?”

“I could tell you, but showing you would be way more fun.” His gaze swept over her body, his blue eyes dark with desire.

“Then you’d better show me.”

“It’d be my pleasure.”

He removed his hat and winter jacket—

It was one of those cowboy-style ones. They had a name, oilskin or something? She’d have to look it up later...

“Shh,” she muttered to herself as her internal editor started to rouse. She willed herself to focus once more on the vivid scene playing out behind her closed lids.

“Close your eyes,” he said in that deep Southern drawl.

She obliged him, then rested her head against the edge of the tub, feeling the submersion of his body by the way the water lapped higher up her chest.

“Give me your hand.”

Languidly, she lifted her hand out of the tub and presented it to him.

“You have nice fingers. A nice hand.”

“Thank you.” She sighed with pleasure as he began to massage her palm. “So do you.”

He did have nice hands. Big and strong—she remembered how they’d felt when he’d tried to help her up after she’d freaked out.

“Shh,” she said aloud, working a little harder this time to slip back into her fantasy.

Thad worked the tender part of flesh between thumb and forefinger before sliding his hands up to her forearm, massaging as he went.

“You’re very good at this.”

“I’m good at a lot of things.”

“I bet you are,” she purred.

“Do you want me to show you?”

“Yes.”

His hands moved up higher to her shoulders, pausing to massage before caressing her collarbones and then dipping down her chest to her breasts.

“Is this okay?”

“It’s wonderful.”

He fondled over and under before gently pinching a nipple.

She groaned.

“You’re so beautiful. I wanted you from the moment I saw you.”

Jolie’s eyes popped open.

I wanted you from the moment I saw you?

Seriously?

Creating sexual fantasies featuring a virtual stranger as a sort of ranch gigolo? Ridiculous. How did she ever expect to make it as a serious journalist when she wiled away her spare time coming up with this sort of nonsense?

Jo sat up, threw off the quilts and swung her legs out of bed. She went to the French doors and drew back the blinds.

“Beautiful,” she said matter-of-factly. The view was exactly like the panoramic shot on the webpage.

While she might not be an acclaimed journalist yet, she was still here to do a job, so she sat down, opened her laptop and called up her travel article. After tapping out a few awkward sentences and random ideas, she stared at the screen.

Screw it.

Going over to her bag, Jo took out her leather-bound journal, a gift from her father last year.

I know writers do everything on computer, but I thought you might like this. Or not. Here’s the gift receipt if you decide to return it.

She hadn’t returned it. It was the best gift her father had ever given her. Opening the journal up to her last entry, she reread what she’d written a couple of days ago and then began writing—longhand. She didn’t even have to think; the words just poured out of her as she filled page after page, like she was merely the conduit for ideas coming from another realm.

The aroma of fresh coffee and bacon drew her out of the story and back to reality, her stomach growling.

After dressing, she joined her host in the dining room, where breakfast was already laid out.

“I hope you slept okay,” Gloria said while she poured the coffee.

“Amazing.”

“The rest of the guests arrive today. Festivities begin once everyone’s here. We’ll go out and cut a tree and then decorate it tonight while we celebrate Tip’s Eve.”

“Tip’s Eve?” Jo was thankful to have something else to discuss.

“It’s a tradition of Thad’s, from his Catholic roots, I think. Anyway, it’s a pre-Christmas party, always on the twenty-third. We thought it would be fun for the guests.”

“Sounds like it.” Jolie smiled as warmth infused her, starting at her core and radiating out to her extremities. The sensation had to do with the thought of celebrating any kind of Christmas tradition and had nothing to do with the mention of Thad’s name.

Nothing whatsoever.

“How many guests do you expect?”

“Only five, including you. It’s our first time opening up the ranch to guests over the holidays.”

Jolie nodded and took a bite of omelet, which she’d drowned in ketchup.

“So,” Gloria said, drawing out the one-syllable word as she sat opposite her. “You’re a writer?”

“Journalist.” Why did she correct her? She liked the title of writer.

“And you’re doing an article about the ranch for Travel America?”

Jo looked up, nodding as she chewed.

“I hope you’ll take into consideration the fact that we’re still in the development stage...”

“Oh.” Jo wiped her mouth with the cloth napkin. “This isn’t a travel critique of the place or anything. I’m here to enjoy myself and then write about it. That’s all.”

“Okay.” A blush crept up Gloria’s neck and into her cheeks. “I’ll be honest—I’ve been feeling a bit of pressure knowing you were coming. I just really want this ranch to take off, you know?”

“Please think of me as just another guest.”

Gloria released a big sigh. “Right. Well, you let me know if there’s anything you need. Anything at all. And if I can’t help, then I’m sure Dillon would be happy to. Or Thad.”

Jolie’s throat felt funny.

“Well, speak of the devil.”

The omelet in her stomach flipped over at the sound of boots approaching on the wooden floor. Head bowed toward her plate, she looked up through her lashes to see Dillon enter the room, still wearing a winter parka, his cheeks rosy from cold. Following close on his heels was Thad and another man Jo hadn’t met yet.

“Morning, boys. How are things?”

“Good.” Dillon kissed his wife, and Jo couldn’t help watching as Gloria gently rested a hand on her husband’s chest. Jo quickly averted her eyes. Unfortunately, they ended up landing to the right...which was where Mr. Thaddeus Knight was standing.

He winked.

“Thad tells me you tried out the hot tub last night,” Dillon said.

Oh, good God.

“Mmm-hmm,” Jolie intoned. What else had Thad said?

“It’s good for a body. Helps you sleep.”

“Sure does.” Jo could not meet Dillon’s gaze. Or anyone’s, for that matter.

“Have you met Curtis?”

Thankful for the change of subject, Jo looked up and greeted the third man with a smile. Then the discussion turned to the estimated arrival times of the rest of the guests and all mention of the hot tub ceased as the men sat down to eat, Thad taking the seat right beside her.

“Morning, Ms. Jolie. You’re looking well.”

His words were drawn out, one syllable running into the next with weird inflections that seemed to mock, or could be suggestive. It was hard to tell with that Southern accent, which only served to remind Jolie of her early-morning fantasy session.

Could he tell what she was thinking?

“Thank you,” she mumbled before stuffing a forkful of egg into her mouth.

Thad’s right hand was within her line of sight, because it rested right beside her plate. She stared. His hand was exactly as she’d imagined it. Large and well formed, tanned—or maybe that was just his olive skin tone. His fingers were long and veins stood out on the back, like he actually had muscles in there.

Vivid images from her early-morning musings filtered through her mind. She glanced up. “You said you’re a hand. What does that mean, exactly?”

“I could tell you, but showing you would be way more fun.”

Déjà vu struck.

“Then you’d better show me,” she said, as if reading from a preordained script.

“It would be my pleasure.”

Chills ran up her spine, sifting through her hair and settling on the crown of her head as she stared into Thad’s eyes. His dark blue eyes.

Cerulean, cobalt, indigo... Her writer’s mind came up with a list of synonyms for blue while she got lost in the azure depths of his gaze.

An idea washed over her as she dove into that ocean of blue. What if she stopped being embarrassed about the fact that she’d been caught skinny-dipping? What if she embraced it...no, flaunted it, instead? What if Thad really was interested—like in her fantasy—and what if she welcomed it? What would it be like to be that person?

“What size are your feet?”

Hell, she could be anyone she wanted to be on this trip. No one knew her. No one would know the difference.

Thad snapped his fingers in front of her face. “Hello?”

“Huh?” Oh, God. He was talking to her and she was staring at him openmouthed. She gave her head a shake. “Sorry. I—”

“You were a long way off just now. Everything okay?”

“Yeah. Perfect.” She smiled. “What did you say? Something about feet?”

“I asked you what size you are. Thought you could borrow some boots because if you’re going to be traipsing around in the snow and ice, you need a better pair of footwear than the ones you drove up in.”

“Oh...right. I’m size eight.”

“Do you have a size eight she could borrow?” Thad asked Gloria.

“I’m sure I can find something.”

“All right, then. You get suited up, miss, and meet me in the yard in ten.”

* * *

WHILE THAD WAITED for Jolie to get dressed, a car drove up the lane toward the ranch. He squinted in the bright sun, made brighter by all the newly fallen snow. The car was one of those sporty deals, meant for city driving. Not for snowy country roads. Good thing whoever it was had arrived this morning instead of last night.

Once the car was parked, a man and a boy got out. The boy was probably about nine or ten years old, his hair stuck up at all angles, like it hadn’t been combed in a good couple of days. His eyes were wide and uncertain as he took in the surroundings.

Thad started over, the dogs on his heels, but Humper couldn’t contain his zealous nature and went bounding on ahead, straight at the kid.

“Humper!” He didn’t want a repeat of last night.

Too late. Humper launched himself at the boy, toppling him into the fresh pile of snow. Thankfully the sounds the kid made were ones of laughter and not abject fear. Not like the soft whimpering notes that Jolie had been making last night.

A sudden image of Jolie lying naked beneath him, blinded him. She was making the very same noises as she had last night, only in his fantasy it was from pleasure, not fear.

Thad rubbed his eyes.

Where the hell had that thought come from?

Probably the result of watching that crazy dog. He whistled and Humper looked up, tongue lolling in ecstasy. That goddamn mutt’s tongue was too big for his fat head. He ignored Thad, focused on the boy, who was standing upright again, and gave in to his basic urges.

Striding up to the dog, he pulled him off. “Sorry about that, kid. This dog’s still young and trying to exert his dominance on anything that moves. Even some things that don’t move.”

“It’s okay,” the boy said. “He reminds me of Biscuit.”

“You’ve got a dog, do you?”

The boy glanced at the man. “Well...we used to. He went to a farm. Right, Dad?”

“Right.” The guy mussed the top of his son’s head. His eyes were tired. Sad. There was a story there; Thad could see it plain as if the title of a book was written across the man’s forehead.

“Would you like to meet the other two?” Sue and Digger sat obediently a few yards away.

“Yeah!”

A short whistle brought the other animals over and after a quick introduction, the kid was running around the yard with three ecstatic dogs chasing him while his father carried the bags inside.

Thad turned. He’d been aware of the woman’s presence, as she came to stand behind him, before she’d even said a word. Why he sensed her like he did, he couldn’t say. Was it her scent? That sweet, delicious smell of peppermint candy?

“Hi.”

“Hiya, city slicker.”

She grimaced at the name but then pointed at one of the animals that was chasing the kid around on the other side of the yard. “The dog’s name is Humper?”

She continued to watch the chase and he took the opportunity to study her. She looked different by day. In the bright light, her brown hair had honey streaks running through it, and her big eyes were flecked with gold. Her mouth was wide, probably too wide, but he liked it, particularly when she smiled. In fact, he wanted to see one of those smiles right about now.

“He comes by it honestly,” Thad explained when she met his gaze again. “Sue went out looking for a baby-daddy a year and a half ago. Must have been slim pickin’s because, while these mutts are friendly, they aren’t exactly the sharpest tools in the shed.”

There it was. The smile he’d been going for. Too bad she went and covered it up with her mitten, because he was pretty sure her grin had turned into a laugh.

“What’s so funny?”

She shrugged. “I just had this image...”

“Of?”

“Your dog, what’s its name?”

“Sue.”

“Yeah, of Sue looking over her shoulder in exasperation and telling her newfound baby-daddy, ‘Stop talking, just do me.’”

Huh. City girl had a sense of humor. She’d even done a bit of a Southern drawl for Sue, which was adorable. He chuckled. “Yeah, well, instinct is a powerful thing and when ‘the heat’ hits, even a smart one like Sue will take whatever she can get.”

She smiled.

Damn, she had a lovely mouth. The kind of mouth that was meant for kissing. His gaze dropped without warning and even though she was covered up with a winter coat, he easily recalled what was underneath. He shouldn’t have spied. But he didn’t regret it. Not one bit.

It took effort to lift his gaze again and unfortunately the broad smile he’d been enjoying was already gone, replaced by a wide-eyed look of fear.


3 (#uc1a1f505-6eff-5d5b-82eb-16db7dd291d8)

When on vacation I always make a point of trying new things. After all, isn’t that what traveling is all about?

Jo Duval

ONE SECOND SHE was feeling warm and flirty, and the next the cold hand of dread wrapped itself firmly around her throat. Squeezing.

The boy was running their way followed by the three hounds from hell, nipping at his heels. It made no difference they had amusing names. The dogs were big, they were loud and they had incredibly sharp teeth. Just then, the boy’s father called to him from the porch, telling him to come inside. With a groan, the boy made his way to the house, complaining the whole way, leaving the dogs with no one to molest...except her.

Without thinking about what she was doing, Jo hid behind Thad, pressing herself right up against his back and clutching his arms like they were life preservers. If she could have crawled into his skin, she would have.

The sharp sound of Thad’s whistle only made her clamp on more fiercely, and while she was aware of him speaking, she could not make out the words.

Eventually, Thad took hold of her hands and got her to release him as he eased her into the circle of his arms. “Hey. Hey,” he said softly.

She opened her eyes.

“It’s okay.” He smiled down at her. “I sent them away.”

Dammit. So much for her attempt to be someone different on this trip.

“You are seriously scared of dogs, aren’t you?”

“You think?” She forced a laugh even though her fear was anything but funny.

“What happened to you?” He brushed a wisp of hair out of her face.

“I got bit.” She tried to recall the incident, but it was vague. “I barely remember it because I was so young, but ever since I’ve been terrified of dogs. It’s...incapacitating.”

She looked up and realized—oh, shit—she was fully ensconced in Thad’s big, strong arms, her mittened hand resting on his chest, an affectionate gesture, much like she’d witnessed between Gloria and Dillon an hour ago. While she may have invented a seductive scenario starring Thad this morning, he was a complete stranger, someone she’d known for less than twenty-four hours, and finding herself wrapped in his arms—while very nice—was a little too familiar.

She backed away from his embrace and he let her go.

“You interested in overcoming that fear?”

“Maybe. But...” She was about to say not today when he whistled, a short, sharp sound, and the older dog, who she assumed was Sue, ran over, her offspring following right behind. Though one stopped to sniff, nosing around in the snow before setting in to dig with a vengeance.

“And...that is Digger,” he said wryly.

She remembered the name from last night. In the daylight, the animals were certainly friendlier looking. The one named Humper sat and stared with his tongue hanging out one side of his mouth. Digger, a mostly black dog with white tips on his ears, just kept digging, turning one way and then another, snow and dirt flying out from behind him.

The dog named Sue sat by her master’s leg, gazing up at him with adoration before turning that gaze on Jo. She could see the intelligence in the dog’s face, her eyes rimmed with white fur, like she was wearing a mask, almost appearing human as she blinked at Jolie.

Okay, maybe they weren’t so bad.

“Put your hand out.”

“Huh?”

Thad took her arm, pulled off her mitten and arranged her hand palm up. “Let Sue sniff you.”

When the dog approached, Jo’s automatic response was to pull away, but Thad held her hand in place. The dog sniffed her before resting its chin in her upturned palm.

“Oh.”

Thad knelt down beside the dog, still holding Jo’s hand. With his other hand, he scratched the top of the dog’s head. “She likes it, right behind the ears. Like this.” He gazed up at her, his blue eyes brighter in the sun. “Give it a try.”

I can do this. I can.

Hesitating for only a second, Jo let her hand be guided by Thad’s until she was touching the soft fur on the top of the dog’s head. She buried her fingers into it, scratching gently.

“Now you’ve got it.”

The dog shifted to lean against her leg and Jo jumped. She pulled her hand away, not because she was scared but because the dog’s movement startled her.

She looked at her hand. “Oh, my God,” she whispered. “I touched her. Did you see that? I touched a dog.”

“Did more than touch her. You gave her a real good scratch.”

“I did, didn’t I?” On some level, Jo knew how ridiculous it must seem, that she was overjoyed by the simple act of petting a dog. But to her this was huge, and the result was that she felt invincible. Superhuman. Like she could do anything, anything at all.

So she did. When Thad stood, she turned toward him, put one mittened hand on his cheek while her bare hand gripped the front of his jacket. Then she went up on tiptoe and kissed him full on the mouth.

* * *

HER LIPS WERE cold but that didn’t stop Thad from enjoying City Slicker’s mouth slanting generously over his. She started to pull away, but he stopped her by threading his fingers through her hair—silky soft—and holding her close. He intended to warm up those lips, taste the inside of her mouth, get her to taste a little more of him if she was willing.

Yep. She was willing.

He’d suspected that full mouth of hers was made for kissing, and he was right. While the woman might be apprehensive when it came to animals, her kiss indicated that she’d be anything but wary when it came to messing around beneath the sheets. An image of just such a scenario had Thad adjusting her head so he could kiss her even more deeply.

Suddenly she gasped, sucking the air right out of his lungs and into hers as she pulled away, staring up at him like she was just seeing him for the first time.

“Oh, my God. I kissed you.”

“Yes, you did.” The hand on his chest pushed but Thad held on, not letting her get away just yet.

“I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Why not?”

She tilted her head to one side. Blinked. Opened her mouth to speak and then closed it. Finally she said, “I’m not...” then paused. After another couple of rapid blinks, a small smile touched the edges of her wide mouth. “You know what? I’m not sorry.”

“No?” He felt his lips turn up, mirroring hers. “Good. ’Cause I’m not either.”

“I’m glad.” She gazed into his eyes, half smiling, half frowning, as if she couldn’t quite make up her mind about the situation.

“I wouldn’t complain if you wanted to take another shot—”

“Thad?”

Shit. He turned to see Curtis walking across the yard. “You gonna come help finish chores or what?”

“Yep. I’m on my way.” He squeezed Jolie’s hands. “Chores call. You coming?”

Her features still waffled between a smile and a frown. She settled on the frown. “Uh...you know what? I’d better go do some work myself.”

* * *

SITTING AT THE DESK in her room, Jolie tried to work on her article for Travel America, except every time she started typing, she found herself caught up in an instant replay of kissing Thad. She should be embarrassed...except she wasn’t. At all. How could she be when Thad was such a good kisser? The way he held on to the back of her head, tilting her the way he wanted her, holding her close? The way his lips were both soft and firm, lulling and commanding all at once?

Divine.

The way he’d used his tongue on the inside of her lips, tracing them, tasting her?

Heavenly.

The way he tasted of black licorice?

Delicious.

She ran her thumb over her lips, letting her lids flutter closed in recollection, playing the kiss over one more time, adding a few embellishments along the way. Like Thad’s hand dropping to her ass, his head dipping low in order to whisper naughty things in her ear.

Glancing at the top of her screen, she read through some of her previous entries. Be the person you’ve always wanted to be... Try new things.

“What are you going to do, Jo?” she asked herself. Was she just going to write those things for the sake of the article? Or was she going to live them?

Pounding the desk, she muttered, “Dammit. I’m going to live them!”

A second later, a knock sounded at her door and when Jo called for whoever it was to come in—what if it was Thad?—the door opened and Gloria peered inside. “We’re heading out to find a tree. Do you want to come?”

“I wouldn’t miss it.”

She grabbed her jacket and followed Gloria to the porch, where the rest of the guests had congregated. Their hostess introduced everyone: there was the father-and-son duo, Simon and Zak, and a young couple, Kaylee and Evan.

“We just got married last month,” Kaylee explained, beaming with happiness. “This is our first Christmas together.”

After congratulations, Gloria said, “I hope we can make your stay a memorable one.” Then she clapped her gloved hands. “And we’ll start by finding the best damn Christmas tree there is. Dillon says the nicest ones grow up on that ridge.” She pointed to a spot that looked an awfully long way away. “As long as everyone’s game, we thought we’d ride up there.”

“As in, horses?” Jo blurted amidst the sounds of excitement from the rest of the guests.

“Yes. Is there anyone who hasn’t ridden before?”

Jo raised her hand. Other than Zak, she was the only one, and her resolve to be the daring, adventurous Jo she’d always wanted to be slipped.

“Why doesn’t Zak ride with me for his first time,” Dillon offered.

While Zak complained that he wanted to ride his own horse, his father nodded, saying he thought it was a good idea.

“Evan and I can ride together,” Kaylee piped up, winking at her new husband.

“What about you, Jo?” Gloria asked. “Do you want your own horse, or would you prefer to ride with someone?”

“She can ride with me.” Thad was leaning against the rail, watching her carefully. His gaze created a little tickle at the back of her throat.

“Okay,” she replied thickly. “I’ll ride with Thad.”

“That’s settled, then.” Gloria pointed toward the barn. “We’d better get going. The sun sets early this time of year.”

Jolie followed the rest of the group toward the barn, feeling light-headed. It wasn’t nerves exactly; it was...excitement? Excitement and anxiety all mixed up together?

With a dash of arousal?

She could still feel the effects of Thad’s gaze, which was warm, probing...kind of like his tongue.

Once inside the barn, her mixed feelings only intensified. Horses were beautiful animals, but they were also big and scary, which both thrilled and terrified her. Then she considered Thad. There was something seriously hot about watching a man do something he was really good at, and he was clearly good with horses. Good with animals in general.

People, too.

Within no time at all, Thad, Curtis and Dillon had saddled up six horses, and everyone who knew what they were doing mounted. Once on top of his horse, Dillon leaned down, instructing Zak to take his hand so Dillon could pull him up in front of him. Evan did the same with Kaylee.

It was just Jo left.

“Take my hand,” a deep voice said from above her.

“I’m a little bigger than the others,” she replied, feeling insecure all of a sudden.

“I got you.”

“You said that last night.”

“I don’t make the same mistake twice.” He grinned. “Now put your right foot in the stirrup to give yourself a boost.”

She did as she was told and, true to his word, Thad pulled her right up onto the horse. It was awkward getting her left leg over to the other side, but thanks to her biweekly yoga routine, she managed it without any mishaps.

“There now, you all right?” Thad asked, the words tickling the inside of her ear.

“I’m fine,” she said, wriggling in the saddle. “But this can’t be very comfortable for you.”

“On the contrary. I find it very comfortable.”

“Oh!” Jo wasn’t sure if her exclamation was the result of Thad’s big body snugging right up to hers—his thighs on either side of her legs, his chest pressed against her back, his arms wrapped loosely around her waist—or because the horse had started moving. She leaned back into him and the horse stopped.

“As much as I enjoy you leaning against me,” he whispered roughly, “you need to sit up straight for the horse to move.”

“Oh...okay.” She sat up and the horse started walking again, following the others out into the yard. It was such a strange sensation, sitting up so high on the back of an animal, swaying side to side with the horse’s undulating gait. Completely unnatural...yet kind of cool, too.

“You okay?” Thad asked softly.

His deep, melodic voice sent shivers into the pit of her stomach. “I’m okay.”

“You let me know if you’re not.”

“I will.”

The other horses moved off ahead of them in single file and they brought up the rear. Slowly.

“You’re tense.”

“Am I?”

“Yep, and the horse senses it.”

“I don’t know how to not be tense.” She tried to turn in the saddle to face him, felt off balance and swiveled back around, grappling for the knobby thing on the saddle.

He tightened his arms around her and she immediately felt better. She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, his scent reminding her of their kiss.

“Talking is a good way to keep the mind occupied, so you don’t overthink things.”

“Okay.”

When she didn’t say anything—because quite frankly she was still thinking about that kiss—Thad said, “Want me to start?”

“Sure.”

“Where you from?”

Before she could answer, he said, “No. Let me guess... Chicago.”

“How’d you know?”

“Well, you’re clearly from the city and you sound like Gloria when you talk.” He flashed a grin. “She’s originally from Chicago, too.”

“And you’re from Louisiana. Am I right?”

“Good ear.”

“What brought you all the way out here?”

He was quiet for a few moments. “Work, mostly. What about you? What brings you to a guest ranch in Montana?”

“Same. Work.” This time when Jolie had the urge to turn her head, she controlled it. “I’m writing an article about the ranch for a magazine.”

“You’re a writer, huh?”

“Yes.” She liked being called a writer.

She leaned back and the horse stopped.

“Miss Jolie,” Thad murmured. “You need to sit up.”

“Sorry.”

“So...” he said. “You’ve never touched a dog, never ridden a horse. Now look at you. This day is full of firsts for you.”

“That’s my goal for this trip. To try new things, every day.”

“It’s a good motto.”

The other horses were getting farther and farther ahead. Jolie didn’t mind. She liked feeling as though it was just her and Thad on this ride, cozied up together, getting to know one another...

Suddenly an unpleasant thought intruded. “I suppose this is nothing new for you.”

“Riding? It’s part of the job description.”

“No. I mean, taking care of the guests.”

His arms stiffened around her. “And when you say ‘taking care of,’ what exactly do you mean?”

“You know...flirting with the guests.”

“Are you asking if I go around kissing guests on a regular basis?”

She shrugged. “Maybe.”

He transferred the reins to his left hand and gently caressed her thigh with his right. “I do not go around kissing guests. And may I remind you who kissed who first?”

She covered his wandering hand. Not because she wanted him to stop; only because she couldn’t think straight when he was doing that. “I was excited. It was meant to be a little peck.”

“That wasn’t a peck.”

“You’re the one who made it into something more,” she insisted, smiling as she recalled the kiss. Again.

“Is that the story you’re going with?”

“Mmm-hmm.” Jolie marveled at how easy it was to banter with this man. Along with her lack of skills with animals, repartee was another art she had not even come close to perfecting in her twenty-eight years.

“You must be a very good writer, because you’ve got quite an imagination on you.”

She laughed, partly because she was enjoying herself and also because Thad had just voiced her thoughts. She’d never had that happen before.

Feeling good, Jo said, “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“Last night...” She hesitated, but only for a millisecond. “Did you see me...inside the tub?”

He leaned close, his mouth right beside her ear. “You mean did I see you naked?”

“Yes,” she whispered, closing her eyes.

“Well now, a gentleman would lie and say no.” He took a deep breath, like he was inhaling her scent. “The question is—” his breath sifted the hair at the side of her head, making her shiver “—would you like me to be a gentleman...or not?”


4 (#uc1a1f505-6eff-5d5b-82eb-16db7dd291d8)

One of the highlights of a trip is to experience new customs. Believe it or not, this is possible even in your own country.

Jo Duval

WOULD SHE LIKE HIM to be a gentleman or not? Oh, good Lord. What kind of question was that?

The best kind.

Jolie wriggled in the saddle. For some reason, her movement made Thad grunt and shift in response. She only heard the faint sound because he was still so close, his body fused to her back, his face hovering just above her left shoulder.

She cleared her throat. “I’d like the truth.”

He turned, threading his fingers through hers. Such an intimate gesture.

Leaning down even closer—his lips within touching distance of her ear—he whispered, “I think you know the answer.”

“I do.” She wondered if he heard her, because the words were more air than sound.

“Are you shocked?”

She shook her head.

He let her hand go in order to capture her chin and turn her face so their gazes could meet. His eyes reflected the bright sun, giving his rugged features an almost otherworldly quality. “I apologize for the inappropriateness.”

The lines bracketing his eyes deepened, telling Jo he was not sorry in the least.

She wet her lips and his gaze dropped to her mouth. Her stomach swirled in anticipation of something. Another kiss, maybe?

Oh, yes, please!

Thad’s lids slid half-closed and Jolie lifted her chin in invitation.

Waiting.

She licked her lips again.

Nothing happened.

“Uh, Ms. Jolie?” Thad coughed or laughed—it was hard to tell with her eyes shut.

She opened them. The horse had stopped moving. She turned in the saddle. All the other horses were circled around, facing them. Curious glances and secretive smiles from the guests and hosts made Jolie’s cheeks heat. She sat up straight, removing contact between herself and Thad.

Dillon cleared his throat. “Plenty of good trees to choose from here.” He dismounted. “We’re looking for one about nine feet tall.” He reached up high, showing everyone about how big the tree should be. “Anything catch your eye?”

“How about that one?” Zak called, pointing to a large tree just to Dillon’s right.

Dillon circled around the tree, checking out the branches and the height. “I think this one is pretty near perfect. Any objections?”

“Looks good to me.”

“I like it.”

“It’s lovely.”

“Thad? You’ve got the ax?”

“Of course I do. You know me—always prepared.”

Why did just the sound of the man’s voice send shivers down her spine? And then when Thad took her hands gently in his and gave her the reins? Shivers coursed over her shoulders and ran the length of her arms.

“You hold tight to these, Ms. Jolie, while I go help with the tree.” As he leaned forward to dismount, he rasped, “And don’t think I’m not going to finish what was started back there on the trail. I mean to kiss you like you’ve never been kissed before.”

Jolie’s doe-eyed gaze and wide parted mouth stole the air right out of Thad’s lungs. Lord, the woman was a looker. He hadn’t seen it so much last night; he’d been too focused on her fear of the dogs. Then there was the tub, and he’d been too intent on teasing her to really notice her looks. Her nudity? Oh, hell yes, he’d noticed that just fine.

But now, with her cheeks pink from the air—or was that a blush?—and her brown-gold eyes shining in the light, she was something else. How he’d wanted to taste those lips again. Particularly when she was apparently so willing, her chin tilted up, waiting, expectant, so close...so sweet.

Someone tugged on his sleeve.

Gloria stood there, smiling up at him, though something in her clear blue gaze told him she was none too pleased. She spoke in a harsh whisper through her fake smile. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Why, Ms. Gloria.” He held up the ax. “I was about to help that husband of yours chop down this fine tree.”

The phony smile that spread across her face was in direct proportion to the degree her brows drew together in displeasure. “That’s not what I mean,” she whisper-yelled. Gloria flicked her gaze in Jolie’s direction. “Don’t you dare screw this up for us.”

“Well now, I would assure you I wouldn’t except that I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Gloria’s chin came up in frustration and Thad had a hard time keeping his grin in check.

She tugged on his arm, pulling him in a direction away from the circle of horses. “Come take a look at this tree,” she said, loud enough for everyone to hear. “Maybe we’ll chop two. One for the foyer and one for the great room.”

Once they were out of hearing distance, Gloria punched Thad on the arm.

“Ouch.” He feigned injury.

She poked him in the chest. “Stop screwing with our guest.”

“I’m not screwing with her.”

“No, but you’d like to.” She threw her hands up in the air. “Men. Can’t you keep it in your pants, just once?”

Thad gave her a second to rant about the unruliness of male sexual desire.

“She’s a guest and you work here. It would be totally inappropriate.”

“Kinda like sleeping with your boss?” That stopped her long enough for him to continue. “So you’re saying I can’t take her up to the Doghouse?”

Gloria’s eyes went wide at the mention of the old homestead that sat up on the hill, the place she and Dillon had used multiple times as a rendezvous point for sexual trysts when she’d first come out to Montana. When she’d been in Dillon’s employ.

“A little hypocritical of you, don’t you think?”

She crossed her arms over her chest and pursed her lips. Then her features softened as she turned her head to gaze up the hill at where the place stood. “I just...” She sighed. “It’s really important Jolie write a favorable article about the place. It could make or break us.”

Thad propped his arm across Gloria’s shoulders and gave her a reassuring squeeze. For as much as he loved tormenting this woman, he cared deeply for her and for Dillon. Plus, he needed the job, and this place was the perfect cover for him.

“So, what do you want me to do?”

“Stay away from her.”

“What if she can’t stay away from me?”

She elbowed him in the ribs. “Tell her it’s part of the rules. You can make her feel comfortable, special, but stay out of her bed and no kissing.”

“You’re no fun at all.”

“I know you, Thaddeus Knight. The longest relationship you’ve had lasted all of twelve hours.” She glanced back toward the group. “This writer, she doesn’t seem like the one-night stand type. You know?”

Damn. Maybe she was right. Thad wasn’t a relationship kind of guy. His life didn’t allow it. His gaze followed Gloria’s. “Okay,” he said finally. “I’ll keep my hands to myself.”

“Good.” She looked him up and down. “And everything else, too.”

* * *

JOLIE HAD NEVER decorated a Christmas tree—not a real one, anyway. There was the fake minitree she’d bought for her tiny apartment a couple years ago, with all the cute little decorations to go with it. But a real live tree?

Never.

Even before hanging decorations, the big tree took her breath away, twinkling with multicolored lights and bringing its fresh pine scent indoors. She helped herself to a glass of mulled wine and stood back from the group, watching the flurry of activity with a warmth that spread from her tummy out to her extremities. After riding back to the ranch with Gloria—so that Thad could haul the tree—she’d decided to head to Half Moon Creek to pick up a couple of things.

New boots? Check.

A bathing suit? Check, check.

Some gifts for her hosts and the guests? Check, check, check.

Plus she had a special surprise tucked away in a florist’s box in her room. She went to retrieve it now, glancing over her shoulder to see if Thad might follow, feeling giddy after her second glass of spiced wine.

Thad didn’t follow. What did she expect? He was working and she wasn’t the only guest. She retrieved the box and presented it to Gloria.

“What is it?”

“Open it.”

Gloria opened it and gasped. “Real mistletoe?” She grinned. “That’s so thoughtful.”

“Half Moon has the sweetest little florist shop, and the girl was so helpful. She...” Thad joined them at that moment and her sentence trailed off as she gazed up at him. More specifically, at the way his shirt stretched across his broad shoulders and opened at his throat, giving her a glimpse of the strong cords of his neck.

She’d like to sink her teeth into them.

“Do you want me to hang that?” His lips twitched and Jo’s gaze slid to his lips, imagining his mouth moving closer and closer to hers.

“Sure, that’d be great,” Gloria answered. Then she turned to the rest of the room and clapped her hands. “Okay, everyone, let’s get decorating. There are plenty in the boxes or you can come on over to the dining table and help make some.”

The last time Jolie had made a Christmas ornament was in grade school—when the whole class made them—and she eagerly joined Gloria at the large dining room table where there were bowls of multicolored candies, cookie cutters and molds of different sizes all laid out on cookie sheets.

Kaylee joined them. “Oh! Christmas candy ornaments. I saw this on Pinterest.”

Gloria explained how they were going to melt the cut rock Christmas candies into beautiful, tasty ornaments. Jo half listened to the instructions as she snuck glances at Thad out of her peripheral vision. He was hanging the mistletoe from the door frame that separated the large dining room from the great room.

While Gloria was busy explaining how to make the ornaments, Jolie was busy imagining a scenario under the mistletoe.

“So, we’ll just spray some oil on the inside of these molds and then place the candies loosely inside...”

She was accidentally standing beneath the mistletoe when Thad walked by. He looked up. She looked up. Their gazes met.

“We’ll pop them in the oven so the candies melt together...”

He bent down to kiss her and...shit! He’d caught her watching. Grinning, he stalked toward her, and Jo’s pulse fluttered in her veins as he closed the distance between them.

“Once they’ve cooled, we’ll tie ribbons to hang them and this is how they’ll look.” Gloria held up some samples of ornaments that looked like mini stained glass windows.

“Don’t mind if I do, Ms. Gloria.” Thad plucked a decoration out of her hand and stuck the candy in his mouth.

“Thaddeus Knight. That is an ornament for the tree. It is not for you.”

He bit down on the hard candy, snapping it in two, and offered the other half to Jolie. “It was all Ms. Jolie’s fault.” He winked.

She smiled up at him. It was impossible not to beam in delight when Thad was around. Except his grin froze when Gloria caught his eye. She scowled at him. It was only when she met Jo’s gaze that her smile reappeared.

Apparently she was very serious about these ornaments.

“Why don’t you go give Dillon a hand with the garland.” Gloria waved toward the other room.

“I’m thinking this candy operation looks like more fun.”

“Thad...” There was a warning note in Gloria’s voice.

What was that about?

Whatever it was, Thad ignored it. He propped his arm across Jo’s shoulders and said in a conspiratorial voice, “Now, ladies, did y’all know that the barn out there is haunted?”

“Haunted?” Kaylee asked, intrigued.

“Oh, yeah.” He winked at Gloria. “You remember, Ms. Gloria? There was that one time I was heading for the barn, needing to get something from the tack room at the back...” Thad scratched his jaw, all serious now. “This must have been a year ago now? Maybe a year and a half? Anyway, there was this awful strange sound coming from that room.”

“What kind of sounds?” Jo leaned closer.

“Scratching. Panting. A woman’s scream...or sigh. It was hard to tell.”

“No way,” Kaylee said, eyes wide.

“Yes, ma’am. I been careful going in there ever since. Never know what a body will find.” His grin was pure wickedness as he smiled at Gloria.

“Thank you for that, Thaddeus,” Gloria said, giving him a shove toward the great room. When she returned to the table, her cheeks and neck were flushed bright red. “Now, let’s make some ornaments.”

Jo had just started filling up her molds with candies when Gloria came to stand beside her. “I apologize for Thad.”

“What do you mean?”

She crinkled her nose. “He’s a flirt.”

“No need to apologize for that.”

“Just be careful.”

“Careful?”

“I...” Gloria frowned. “You know, even though he’s worked here awhile, we still don’t know all that much about him.”

“What are you saying? Don’t you trust him?”

She opened her mouth to reply, but Dillon appeared at her side at that moment, carrying an open box of ornaments. “Hey, Red. Curtis found these in the Quonset. They must be from Kenny’s family.” He picked out an ornament wrapped in tissue paper and passed it to Gloria, who unwrapped a pretty colored glass ball.

“Oh, this one’s beautiful.”

“What should we do with them?”

“Let me sort through them. I’m sure we can use some.”

Jo frowned after Gloria’s retreating back. Why would Gloria warn her about Thad? Was there something dark and dangerous in his past? The very idea got Jolie’s creative juices flowing and she considered all sorts of possibilities.

If Gloria’s intention had been to warn her off Thad, it was having the opposite effect, because all Jo could think about was ways to seduce him.

She smiled as a vivid image of how she could get him into her bed came to mind.

This was going to be the best Christmas ever.

* * *

THE FITTED RED turtleneck and black skirt Jolie wore suited her, probably because they fit so well. The turtleneck reminded him of all her lovely curves; the skirt looked feminine and showed off her long, shapely legs. She was a sight, that was for sure, her eyes shining brightly in the candlelight as everyone sat around the fireplace in the great room. Now that the tree was done, they ate and drank and chatted as if they’d all known each other forever. It’d been a long time since Thad had spent the holidays with other folks. Not that he didn’t like people. He liked them just fine; he just had to be careful of strangers.

Funny how they’d all just met, but there was something about the holidays that made people more open, made this setting more familial.

More intimate.

He glanced Jo’s way and caught her watching him. Her cheeks flushed. Was that due to him or was it the combination of the fire and mulled wine?

Maybe both. Either way, he liked it.

He had wanted to heed Ms. Gloria’s warnings, but there was something about this woman that he couldn’t seem to shake. He just had to be near her. His fingers twitched with wanting to touch; his nostrils flared with wanting to sniff—did she always smell like peppermint?—and he found himself constantly wetting his lips, longing for another taste.

He hadn’t meant to tease Ms. Gloria about overhearing her and Dillon in the tack room that time, but he couldn’t resist. Kind of like he couldn’t seem to help himself around Jolie.

Of course he should stay away from her. He never got too close to anyone, couldn’t afford to, but...

He met her eyes again. Beautiful doe eyes. Sweet. Innocent. Yet he knew from the kiss out in the yard that she had a fire burning inside of her. That and her innocent passion was an intoxicating combination.

“So,” Jo said, holding his gaze. “What is Tip’s Eve?”

“Well now, it comes from some of my Cajun, Catholic roots.”

“You’re Cajun?”

“I’m a little of this and a little of that.” He changed the subject from his family back to the tradition. “Catholics are all about abstinence followed by overindulging.” He lifted his rum and eggnog. “It’s the pre-Christmas party for all of us who can’t wait for the twenty-fourth.”

“Cheers to that,” Zak’s dad said.

“Cheers.” Zak ran around the room clinking his glass of punch with all of the adults’ glasses.

It’d been a long time since Thad had been around a kid. Something about that brought back memories, stuff he hadn’t thought about in years. “Now, Zak,” Thad said, “have you heard of Père Noël?”

Sitting back down on the rug in front of the fire, Zak shook his head, eyes wide. “What’s a pear Noel?”

“Père Noël is French for ‘Papa Christmas.’ You know about Santa Claus, right?”

His head bobbed up and down real quick.

“Well, lots of kids are curious how Santa can get all around the world in one night, leaving presents for all those kids. You ever wonder ’bout that?”

“Yeah, I wonder that sometimes.” Zak glanced at his dad. “But, he’s magic, right?”

“Oh, yeah. Most definitely. But that’s not all.” Thad leaned down, as if he was talking only to the kid, but out of the corner of his eye, he watched Jolie, aware of her more than anyone else in the room. “I’ll tell you a secret about how Santa does it, but you’ve got to promise not to tell anyone else.”

Zak scooted closer, coming to sit right down at his feet. “I promise,” he whispered excitedly.

“Okay, well...the secret is, there’s more than one Santa.”

“What?”

Thad turned to Jolie because she was the one who’d uttered the question, not Zak.

“Sorry, keep going.” She waved at him to continue.

“It’s true. There’s the one that lives up north, there’s one that lives in Sweden, there’s one from Russia, a couple from Africa. Probably a few down in Asia—there’s lots of kids there. And there’s one that lives in the swamps of Louisiana, and his name is Papa Noel.”

“Really?”

“Mmm-hmm. You think about it, not every place is cold. A sled doesn’t work where there’s no snow. Papa Noel? He doesn’t have reindeer and a sleigh, he’s got a pirogue—you know what a pirogue is?”

The kid shook his head.

“It’s a flat-bottomed boat that skims nice and light over the swamps.” Thad glided one hand over the other to illustrate. “Now...instead of reindeer, what do you figure pulls Papa Noel’s pirogue?”

“I don’t know,” the kid said.

Thad glanced up. Jolie’s eyes were as wide as the boy’s. Her gorgeous mouth parted a bit.

“Gators.”

“No.” Again, this came from Jolie, not the kid.

“Oh, yeah,” Kaylee, the young newlywed said. “I had a storybook about Papa Noel when I was a kid.”

“Well now, if it’s written down in a book, that must make it truth.”

The boy nodded as if that made perfect sense, and Thad went on to explain how in Louisiana they set up huge bonfires on Christmas Eve to light the way for Papa Noel because it could be so dark at that time of year.

“Can we light a bonfire?” The boy looked at Dillon excitedly. “Can we? So Santa doesn’t get lost?”

Thad didn’t wait for Dillon to answer. Pointing to the big fireplace, he said, “We don’t need bonfires. We got a fireplace to let him know where we’re at.”

His story led to others in the group swapping their own, and while Dillon talked, Thad got up to refill his glass with eggnog, smiling as he ladled. What was it about this year that felt so different? It’d been almost twelve years since he’d left NOLA. Since Katrina and everything that came before. But this was the first Christmas he actually felt like he belonged somewhere.

It was nice.

A soft step followed by the scent of peppermint alerted Thad to her presence.

“That was quite the story,” she said, her voice husky and low.

Thad shut his eyes before answering because he already knew why this holiday felt different.

Jolie.


5 (#uc1a1f505-6eff-5d5b-82eb-16db7dd291d8)

Want to spice up your holiday? Try a holiday fling.

Jo Duval

THAD TURNED TO find Jolie gazing up at him, her eyes sparkling in the candlelight.

“You like Christmas stories, do you?”

“Who doesn’t?” She pointed at his glass. “Is that eggnog?”

“Yep.”

“Homemade?”

“Of course.”

She eyed his glass.

“Did you want some?”

“Oh, no...it’s just that I’ve never tried it.”

“Seriously, woman. Where’ve you been at? A nunnery?” He held his glass out to her.

Without hesitation, she took it from his hands and sipped.

“Ooh. That is good.” She took another sip. “Mmm. Filling but delicious.”

After a third sip, Thad drawled, “Do you want to keep that one?”

With a laugh she handed it back. “No. I’ll stick to my mulled wine.” She picked up the mug she’d set on the table and backed up a step, then two.

“Can I refill your mug for you?”

“Sure.”

He took it from her hands, their fingers touching briefly, hers long, slim and delicate.

Nice.

He ladled steaming wine inside and handed it back, wanting to touch again.

“Thank you.” Smiling, she shuffled back another step, her gaze flicking to the rafters.

Thad’s eyes followed and he realized that she’d positioned herself under the mistletoe. On purpose? He’d just have to see about that, now, wouldn’t he?

Leaning against the door frame, he pretended like he wasn’t onto her. That damn devil that lived beneath his skin rubbed its hands together at the thought of tormenting the woman. Just a little.

“So, Ms. Jolie, where y’at?”

“Excuse me?”

“Just wondering how you’re doing. Did you have a good day?”

“Oh...yes. It was lovely.” Her gaze went skyward then came back down.

“You sore at all?” His gaze slid low and lingered because she had the nicest legs.

She coughed. “Uh...not yet. Should I be?”

Thad shrugged. “Dunno.” He crossed his arms at his chest and moved one boot over the other, as if setting himself up for a nice long standoff. Sha. Why did he enjoy torturing this woman so much? “Depends what kind of shape you’re in, I guess.”

She shifted her feet. “I’m in decent shape.”

Thad concurred as he allowed his gaze to take her in, nice and slow. “Then you should be just fine.” An understatement. The woman was more than fine, particularly right now, because there was something sinful sparkling in those pretty brown eyes of hers.

Pushing himself from the wall, he moved closer.

Her chin lifted and her gaze went to the mistletoe again. Yep, she knew exactly what was what.

“You need anything else?” he asked huskily, noticing how her full lips parted. Then that sweet, sweet tongue made an appearance, passing over her lips, making them nice and moist.




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