Cole For Christmas
Anna Wesley can't bear anyone to be alone on Christmas Eve, not even her new marketing assistant Cole Mansfield– the man who's after her job. Still, she invites him to dinner with her family.Big mistake. Anna's never brought a man home before, so Cole is treated like a future son-in-law. Worse, Cole acts the part, touching her every chance he gets…and she's enjoying it far too much! So much so that she's sure she's getting Cole for Christmas!Romancing the boss is out of the question for Cole–not with the secret he's hiding. But around Anna's family, her touch-me-not attitude turns warm…hot, then blazes out of control. This Anna isn't his boss, she's all woman–and it's no secret she's all Cole wants. With the family's invitation to join them on their ski holiday, he knows the time is right to make Anna his–forget socks, sweaters and a toothbrush…the only thing Cole's packing is mistletoe!
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âI admit it. Youâre hot.â Anna sighed
âBut youâre not just any hot guy,â she continued. âYouâre the hot guy I work with. I canât sleep with you.â
Cole was silent for no more than a second. Then he shrugged. âOkay. I accept that.â Without warning, he pulled his thick sweater over his head and tossed it on the bed.
âWhat do you think youâre doing?â Anna asked, her voice cracking.
âUndressing.â
âBut I thought you were sleeping on the sofa?â Anna meant her voice to sound harsh, but it came out soft.
âNo reason we canât sleep in the same room now.â Cole cocked an eyebrow at the twin beds.
Anna sat on one and started bouncing.
âWhat do you think youâre doing?â Cole repeated her earlier question.
âTesting out which bed is firmer. I love a hardâ¦â
But she had made the mistake of looking at him, and what sheâd been about to say died on her lips. He no longer had on his jeansâjust a pair of red silk boxer shorts and the biggestâ¦er, smile sheâd ever seen.
Dear Reader,
Anybody whoâs ever made it to adulthood single has probably run into a family member way too interested in their love life. You know the type. Full of questions about why youâre not dating, how seriously you are dating or who you should be dating.
In Cole for Christmas, Anna Wesley has a houseful of relatives exactly like that. Theyâre so thrilled when she finally brings a man home to dinner that they refuse to believe she and the sexy Cole Mansfield arenât romantically involved.
I hope Iâve infused this story with the magic of the Christmas season, where love is in the air and anything is possible. Even a sizzling romance between a man who must lie to keep his word and a woman afraid to trust. And, of course, relatives who just might be right about who is Mr. Right.
Happy holidays!
Darlene Gardner
P.S. Online readers can visit me at www.darlenegardner.com.
Books by Darlene Gardner
HARLEQUIN TEMPTATION
926âONE HOT CHANCE
HARLEQUIN DUETS
39âFORGET ME? NOT
51âTHE CUPID CAPER
68âTHE HUSBAND HOTEL
77âANYTHING YOU CAN DOâ¦!
101âONCE SMITTEN TWICE SHY
To my large, loving Polish-American family
Contents
1
IF IT WERENâT FOR Bobblehead Santa, Anna Wesley wouldnât be in this predicament.
She stood next to her desk in the not-quite-deserted marketing offices of Skillington Ski Shops, clutching the eight-inch plastic doll in her right hand, for once not amused by the way its white-haired head danced.
With her left hand, she absently worried the tassel on the Santa Claus hat the family expected her to wear to Christmas Eve dinner that night.
Nobody expected her to bring Bobblehead Santa.
Nobody would know the difference if sheâd shown up with a bottle of wine instead of the toy she knew would make her grandfather erupt into one of those belly laughs worthy of St. Nick himself.
But, no, she couldnât do things the easy way. Instead of driving straight to her parentsâ house, she had to return to the office to pick up the silly doll. An office that should have been empty aside from the once-gay Christmas tree that sat on her secretaryâs desk, its lights no longer twinkling.
It was nearly seven oâclock. Everybody should have cleared out hours earlier to enjoy what was in Annaâs mind the most magical night of the year. Christmas Eve, a night full of anticipation and wonder, meant to be spent in the bosom of family and friends.
Thatâs where sheâd be now if she hadnât come back to the office and noticed the light shining under Cole Mansfieldâs office door.
But maybe she was overreacting. Maybe the cleaning staff had inadvertently left on a light, never mind that it had never happened before.
The shining light didnât necessarily mean her marketing assistant, whoâd moved to western Pennsylvania from San Diego to take the job less than a month before, was working late.
Sheâd no sooner taken a step in the direction of the exit than she heard the whir of a computer printer. Darn. She looked down at Bobblehead Santa, who gazed back up at her with his merry eyes.
âYou donât suppose thatâs the ghost of Christmas Past in there, do you?â she asked him.
He didnât answer but his joy-filled expression remained unchanged. Itâs Christmas, he seemed to say.
âNot everyone celebrates Christmas,â she reasoned with him. âHe could be Jewish. Or Buddhist. Or Pagan.â
Except she remembered the darling red tie heâd been wearing that morning. Festooned with depictions of miniature decorated trees, it played a tinny version of âO, Christmas Treeâ whenever he squeezed it.
âThat doesnât mean anything. The decorated tree was originally a pagan tradition,â she told Bobblehead Santa, but he wasnât buying her excuse.
âAll right already, Iâll go check on him,â she said grudgingly and headed across the large, airy space to his office.
She paused on the threshold, squaring her shoulders and putting on her title of marketing director of Skillington Ski Shops like a cloak. Then she drew in a deep breath, rapped sharply three times on the door and opened it a crack.
