Hot Christmas Nights: Shameful Secret, Shotgun Wedding / His for Revenge / Mistletoe Not Required
Shameful Secret, Shotgun Wedding by Sharon KendrickWhen renowned international playboy Giancarlo Vellutini invites shop assistant Cassie Summers to join him for dinner, how can she refuse? After all, she is an ordinary girl and chances like this don't come around very often!Throwing caution to the wind, unworldly Cassie is completely at Giancarlo's mercy before she knows it. She finds herself agreeing to be his mistress for Christmas…. But will an unexpected gift make this temporary festive arrangement last a lifetime?His for Revenge by Caitlin CrewsWalking down the aisle toward striking but cold CEO Chase Whitaker was never meant to be Zara Elliot's fate. But to safeguard the family business, she'll have to play along…Chase is only interested in one thing—his own dark game of revenge against Zara's father. The one thing he hadn't counted on? Zara's charm and natural beauty unsettling his rock-hard defences.But their wedding night proves to be a game changer, and they both realise they're in over their heads. Losing is never an option for Chase…but winning suddenly takes on a very different meaning!Mistletoe not Required by Anne OliveThis Christmas Olivia Wishart is determined to throw off the shackles of her past and have fun. And nothing says fun like a glamorous Christmas party! So, wearing a brand-new red dress and some seriously high stilettos, nervously clutching a glass of champagne, she's finally ready to start living life to the max….Olivia had thought that pre-party nerves would be the only thing to get her heart racing…until a view even more spectacular than the glow of Sydney Harbour catches her eye. The drop-dead-gorgeous man with the steely black eyes is everything Olivia has ever wanted—and this Christmas she's not going to wait meekly under the mistletoe!
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Hot Christmas Nights
Shameful Secret, Shotgun Wedding
Sharon Kendrick
His for Revenge
Caitlin Crews
Mistletoe Not Required
Anne Oliver
Table of Contents
Shameful Secret, Shotgun Wedding
Sharon Kendrick
SHARON KENDRICK once won a national writing competition by describing her ideal date: being flown to an exotic island by a gorgeous and powerful man. Little did she realise that she’d just wandered into her dream job! Today she writes for Mills & Boon, featuring often stubborn but always to die for heroes and the women who bring them to their knees. She believes that the best books are those you never want to end. Just like life….
This book is dedicated to the Hempstock family – with whom I used to spend many happy times in Dronefield as a child.
THERE was something about him which made her think of danger. Something dark and tantalising which drew her gaze like a magnet. Cassie felt the rush of blood to her cheeks and the sudden pounding of her heart as she stared at the man across the busy holiday rush of the department store.
He was gorgeous. Too gorgeous to be real, surely? Why, if she hadn’t been surrounded by tinsel, fairy lights and a packed working schedule until the big day itself she might have thought that Christmas had come early.
Not that she had a lot to compare him with. It was only the second time she’d been away from rural Cornwall—where most of the men she met wore cheap aftershave and trod on your toes while you were dancing. And when you got up close for the slow numbers you could see little pieces of blood-stained tissue paper on their chins, where they’d cut themselves shaving.
Which was why landing this temporary job in London’s most glitzy department store over the festive season was Cassie’s chance to get away from the predictable world she’d grown up in and to live the dream. And London at this time of the year was a dream—an enchanted world of fairy lights and fake snow and an air of expectation. She loved Christmas.
Even working on the ‘Seasonal Candle’ section—a fir-festooned grotto selling a variety of upmarket candles—was a dream. One which remained intact despite the best efforts of mealy-mouthed Lindy in nearby Cosmetics and the fact ten hours of standing made your feet scream with protest. Daily, Cassie dealt with stick-thin society matrons and laughing students and over-excited small children filing past her on their way to see Santa.
Only today, she could see someone rather different from her usual customer—a tall, brooding man with skin the colour of burnished olive. Clad in a dark cashmere overcoat, his face proud and aristocratic, his lips mockingly sensual—and yet there was a cold, hard glint to his eyes of pure ebony.
Cassie’s heart started racing. Racing hard enough to burst. She was certain he wasn’t interested in buying a candle—in fact, she was surprised to see him shopping at all. He looked like the sort of man who would have minions to do the more mundane chores in life and one who would never cut himself shaving. She didn’t imagine he’d be tempted by her sales pitch, either—but something made her walk up to him, her bright professional smile fixed firmly in place.
Never in her life had Cassie been so conscious of anyone’s presence. He seemed to own the space around him simply by existing in it and exuded a rare kind of charisma which made people stop and take a second look.
Suddenly dizzy and wondering what insane instinct had propelled her into his vicinity, she drew a deep breath. ‘Good afternoon, sir—I wonder can I interest you in one of these beautiful candles?’
Giancarlo’s brows knitted together as a banal little sentence interrupted his reverie and he found himself staring into a pair of violet eyes of extraordinary beauty. He was used to the adulation of women in general and salesgirls were no exception—and he really wasn’t in the mood to be engaging. But he was supposed to be buying Christmas gifts for all his admin staff and the girl who was trying to sell him something was very pretty—so he gave her his attention. ‘A candle?’ he drawled.
Cassie nodded. His sexy Italian accent matched his Mediterranean looks, adding yet another layer to his allure—and silently she despaired at her own stupidity.
She might not have a wealth of experience about the opposite sex but she was intuitive enough to recognise when a man was completely out of her league. And this one most definitely was. Why, his clothes just screamed class and quality and his demeanour was more than impressive—it was daunting. So don’t just stand there gawping at him like a stranded fish—
