The Earl's Snow-Kissed Proposal
Christmas kisses with the Earl…Gabriel Derwent, Earl of Wycliffe, needs an heir. With no wife or child of his own, he hires Etta Mason to research his family tree and find one!Single mum Etta isn’t used to things going her way. So she can’t believe her luck when her new boss whisks her away from her humdrum life to spend Christmas with him! She might be cynical about fairytale endings, but standing in Gabriel’s arms, with snowflakes softly falling, she can't help but be tempted by his achingly romantic kisses…
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Christmas kisses with the earl...
Gabriel Derwent, Earl of Wycliffe, needs an heir. With no wife or child of his own, he hires Etta Mason to research his family tree and find one!
Single mom Etta isn’t used to things going her way. So she can’t believe her luck when her new boss whisks her away from her humdrum life to spend Christmas with him! She may be cynical about fairy-tale endings, but standing in Gabriel’s arms, snowflakes softly falling, dare she hope his achingly romantic kisses could mean so much more?
‘I’ve tried dating and...it doesn’t work out.’
‘And I’ve told you you’re dating the wrong men.’ Gabriel surveyed her. ‘I bet you’re going for nice, average men with nice respectable jobs and...’
‘What’s wrong with that?’ Color climbed Etta’s cheekbones and she narrowed her eyes.
‘Physical attraction is important too.’
‘So what do you suggest?’
‘That you date someone you feel attracted to in a physical way—where there’s a spark.’
‘I don’t seem to meet guys like that. Maybe that gene is missing, too.’
‘I don’t believe that.’
The last berry slipped on to the ring and he stood up and held the mistletoe circle, then attached it to the waiting ring.
‘Look up.’
A hesitation, and then she did as he asked, her face tipped up toward him, her delicate angled features bathed in the flicker of light.
‘Kiss me and I’ll show you,’ he said. ‘The ball’s in your court. Literally.’
His throat was constricted, his breath held in his lungs, and then slowly she rose to her feet and stepped forward until she was flush against him. Hesitantly her hands came up and looped around his neck; her fingers touched his nape and desire shuddered through his body. She stood on tiptoe and touched her lips against his in sweet sensation.
NINA MILNE has always dreamed of writing for Mills & Boon Cherish—ever since as a child she played libraries with her mother’s stacks of Mills & Boon romances. On her way to this dream Nina acquired an English degree, a hero of her own, three gorgeous children and—somehow!—an accountancy qualification. She lives in Brighton and has filled her house with stacks of books—her very own real library.
Family is a big part of this book so this is for my mum. Thank you for being a great mum, an amazing grandma, and for believing in me when I didn’t believe in myself!
Contents
GABRIEL DERWENT STARED at his reflection in the opulently framed mirror of the lavish hotel room—just to make sure he hadn’t inadvertently put his shirt on inside out or his boxers on his head.
But, no...his reflection gazed suavely back at him, its crisp white shirt correctly on beneath a midnight black tux, spiky blond hair free of encumbrance. No indication of the inner turmoil that had been tossing and turning inside him for the best part of a year. Not that he was complaining—the very last thing he needed was for the truth to be emblazoned on him for the world to see. For anyone to see.
Instead his fellow guests at the Cavershams’ Advent Ball would see what they expected—the debonair, rugged, charming Gabriel Derwent, Earl of Wycliffe, heir to the Duke of Fairfax. No doubt there would be questions as to his prolonged absence from the social scene, but he’d deal with those as if he were without a care in the world. Ditto any queries about his split from Lady Isobel Petersen.
This was a fundraiser for a cause he believed in, but the whole idea of circulating, itty-bitty small talk and a face-off with the press made his jaw clench. Yet necessity dictated his actions... He needed the social backdrop to conceal the true reason for his presence—which was to start a quest, the idea of which banded his chest with bleakness.
Enough, Gabe. No way would he submit to despair. A childhood lesson well learnt.
The click of the hotel room door caused him to spin round and he forced his lips to upturn. ‘Hey, little sis.’ Seeing her expression, he stepped forward. ‘Is everything OK?’
Cora Martinez entered, her emerald-green dress shimmering as she moved. ‘You tell me. I knocked twice and you didn’t respond. I was worried. In fact I’m still worried.’
‘No need to worry. You look stunning, by the way.’
A wave of her hand swept the compliment away. ‘Don’t distract me. I am worried. I’ve seen you once in nearly a year, I have no idea where you’ve been, and then you ring me up out of the blue to ask me to introduce you to the Cavershams. Next thing I know you get a last-minute invitation to this ball. I don’t get it.’
‘I know.’
Her turquoise eyes narrowed. ‘That’s it?’
Digging deep, Gabe pulled out his best smile. ‘There is nothing you need to know except that I’m back.’
No way could he confide in Cora. What would he say? Hey, little sis. Nine months ago I found out that I can’t have children. Life as he had known it had changed irrevocably—the future he’d had mapped out for years was toast. Thanks to the archaic legal complexities that surrounded the Dukedom of Fairfax, the title that had passed from father to son for centuries might now die out. Unless he could find a male heir who descended directly, father to son, back to an earlier Duke of Fairfax. Bleakness returned in a vengeful wave even as he forced his body to remain relaxed.
