âPipeâs a phallic symbol, you know,â Sam said
âIs not,â Hope said at once.
âIs, too.â He nodded. âAll these years youâve been working at Palmer Pipe youâve been substituting pipe for penises.â
She half rose, reached behind her and grabbed up a pillow. âI have not!â She raised the pillow over her head.
âHey, donât yell at me. Iâm not the one with pipe envy.â Sam rolled smoothly off the bed just as she slammed the pillow into the spot where heâd been lying.
At the doorway to the bathroom, in all his naked masculine glory, not at all shy the morning after, he turned to give her a wicked smile. âDonât move,â he said. âIâm going to brush my teeth and get fresh supplies, and then Iâm coming back to relieve your need for pipe. Forever.â
Barbara Daly lives and writes in New York City. She loves it most of all during the holiday season, when the lights, the department store windows and the first snow of winter falling on the shoppers as they struggle down the crowded streets add to the festive feeling. What better setting for a love story?
She is a newcomer to feng shui, but is rapidly putting mirrors in strategic places and flutes on the beams and is convinced itâs going to change the life she shares with her husband and Cairn terrier.
She once had a cat like the one in this bookâand suspects she might not live through a second one.
A Long Hot Christmas is just the first of three books featuring the Sumner sisters. Donât miss Barbaraâs special Duets #69, You Call This Romance!? and Are you for Real?, coming to bookstores in February.
HOPE SUMNERâS sisters were ganging up on her again.
âI was thinking a cat,â she informed them. âI do not need a man.â
âJust to go places with,â Faith said.
âAn escort, nothing more than that,â Charity said.
âBecause the holidays are coming up,â Faith added.
Hope rued the day sheâd taught them to make a conference call. With Faith in Los Angeles and Charity in Chicago, for a time theyâd had no choice but to attack her separately. One-on-one, she was invincible. Against the two of them, she had to fight for her life. Or in this case, her lifestyle.
And what was wrong with her lifestyle? Nothing. She loved living in New York. She was a successful career woman who could afford elegant clothes, when she managed to find time to shop, luxurious vacations, if she ever found time to take a vacation, and an apartment with a fabulous viewâwhere she rarely was, nor was she at the moment.
âLana says heâs a very nice man,â Faith persisted.
âLana? The punk-rock movie star? Lana dates leather jackets on motorcycles. You told me so yourself.â
âThatâs how she met him,â Faith said as though this made everything clear. âHer latest leather jacket is actually a software genius. The Shark defended him against the big software company.â
âThe Shark?â
âHis real nameâs Sam Sharkey,â Charity supplied helpfully. âThey just call him The Shark.â
âOh. Did he win?â
âWell, of course,â Faith went on. âAnd while they waited for the judgeâs decision, they got to talking, and Shark said he was sick of being the âavailable bachelorâ on everybodyâs list, but heâs nowhere even close to wanting to get married, not until he makes partner at his law firm.â
âAnyway,â Charity interrupted, âLanaâs leather jacket told Lana and Lana said, âHe sounds like Faithâs sister Hope, and sheâs in New York, and The Sharkâs in New York,â and one thing led to another.â
Thatâs how bad it was. Her own sisters were shopping her around to lawyers who represented leather jackets accused of software plagiarism. The cat was sounding better every minute. A calico with pretty markings. Or maybe something with long, soft hair she could run her fingers through.
She liked her life. She loved her work. All she wanted was to be the first female, and at twenty-eight, the youngest person, ever to make vice president at Palmer. Then sheâd be ready to enter the next phase of her life, which would include love and happiness, a man with thick, silky hair she could run her fingers throughâ¦
Sheâd been quiet too long. They might assume she was thinking it over, which she certainly wasnât. âHey,â she said in a âletâs negotiateâ tone, âI really appreciate what youâre trying to do for me, but a man to take to parties isnât what I need to get me out of this little slump Iâm in.â
Her gaze darted to her monitor. She swiftly dragged a black seven onto a red eight, smiling when the elusive ace of diamonds appeared from beneath the seven. It was after nine at night. She was still at the office. Sheâd come to a stopping place at eight, unable to move forward effectively without input from colleagues whoâd already left.