Red Hot Christmas (21 page)

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Authors: Carmen Falcone,Michele de Winton

BOOK: Red Hot Christmas
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Nicolas had said he could still apply for custody. He
could
, not that he
would.
Surely taking Fraser before he’d even seen a lawyer wasn’t Nicolas’s style. It would count against him in court. But Nicolas was rich, more than rich, completely loaded and totally influential. Didn’t men like him always get what they wanted?

She should have known. If things seemed too good to be true, they always were. There was no such thing as fairytales. Not in New York City. And especially not with men like Nicolas Morganti.

Not this time. Gabby almost ran back into the kitchen and grabbed the phone from its cradle. She dialed the number for the New York City police.

“Mommy!”

“Fraser!” Gabby hung up the phone and ran to sweep Fraser up in her arms. “Where have you been? I was so worried.” She covered his face with kisses and he batted her off. Setting him down, she spotted his outfit. “What’s that you’re wearing?”

“My elf suit. Nicolas said I could keep it. I’m going to wear it to school tomorrow.”
      “We’ll have to see about that.” Gabby couldn’t bring herself to look at Nicolas. In the space of an hour she’d been living happily ever after with the man, seen him mugged and killed, before swiftly moving on to accuse him of kidnapping. If he said anything, anything kind
or
brutal, she might just crack in a way Fraser wouldn’t understand.

In. Out. In. Out.
Remember to breathe
. Still not looking at Nicolas she let Fraser lead her to the sofa and sit her down. Finally it felt like she was stable enough to chance a glance at Nicolas. Dressed in a sharp charcoal suit, Nicolas was every inch the international business tycoon, but the Christmas antlers on his head and goofy grin spoiled the effect. “They were Fraser’s idea,” he said, pulling them off.

“I, I was worried.”

His face fell. “Oh no. Oh, I’m sorry. Didn’t you get our note?”

“What note? I searched the whole place.”

“That note.” Fraser pointed at the Christmas tree and Gabby realized
GONE SHOPPING
was spelt out on the floor below it in Fraser’s toy cars and building blocks.

“Oh. You have no idea the scenarios I’ve been…”

“Hush.” Nicolas sat next to her. “It’s okay. We’re back now.”

Looking up into his dark eyes, Gabby didn’t see the kidnapper she’d imagined only moments ago.
But was there any prince charming?

“Hey. Hey, you guys. Can we give it to her now?” Fraser was almost bouncing up and down, Gabby registered.

“Give me what?”

Nicolas frowned. “I’d thought about putting it under the tree. But it looks like that cat is well and truly out of the Santa sack.”

Fraser giggled.

Nicolas nodded at Fraser and the boy pulled a small Tiffany’s box out of his pocket.

Gabby turned to Nicolas, her eyes bulging. “You’re getting my son to give me that?”

“It’s not…no, it’s not from Tiffany’s.”

“It’s not from Tiffany’s? Then why is in…”

“It was the only box they had at the antique store. Fraser, buddy, quick, you better open it.”

Fraser shuffled forward and pushed an exquisite gold charm bracelet towards Gabby.
 

“We chose it together,” Nicolas said.

“It’s us,” Fraser said happily and pulled it out of the tissue. “See, this is you.” His small fingers held a gold woman charm. “And this is me.” He pointed next to a young boy with a dog. “This is our house.” A child’s version of a house, with four windows a door and a chimney came next. “And this is daddy.” Fraser looked over at Nicolas.

Gabby darted a look at Nicolas.

“He asked. I wasn’t about to lie.”

“So it’s true? He is my daddy?” Fraser climbed up into Gabby’s lap like he had when he was younger and pulled her face down to look into his eyes.

“Yes, baby. He’s your daddy. But that doesn’t mean…”

“Cool.”

Gabby started and Nicolas laughed. “Is that it? Cool?”

Fraser shrugged. Then an idea struck him. “Hey, my daddy is friends with Santa. Wait till I tell Michael Fitzpatrick!” he clambered down from Gabby’s lap and ran over to his toys, scrambling the message Gabby had missed earlier.

“So can I have a dog?” he asked.

Gabby laughed. “I don’t think a dog is really a good idea baby. There’d be no one to look after it during the day.”

“Maybe a giant toy dog,” Nicolas said, in a loud stage whisper.

Fraser smiled and turned his back on the two of them.

“Do you like it?” Nicolas asked, as he shuffled a little closer along the sofa.

“It’s beautiful,” Gabby replied.

“He missed off a few of the charms,” Nicolas said and took the bracelet from her. “Here’s your knight’s horse, in case you need to, I don’t know, escape from a dragon; a golden slipper, you know, to go to the ball, and—“

Gabby put her hand over the bracelet. “It’s lovely.”

“Let me finish.” Nicolas gently pulled her hand away. “Here’s a golden ring, for—”

Gabby looked up into the same dark grey eyes of her son and saw only warmth there.

“Hey, if he’s my daddy, does that mean you guys are going to get married?” Fraser piped up from across the room. “Can I wear my elf costume?”

“Fraser,” Gabby scolded. “Nicolas was talking.”

“I was going to say, for when we’re ready. But perhaps—“

“There’s no rush,” Gabby said quickly. “We’ve landed in your life overnight. Don’t go doing anything you’ll regret later. Fraser and I have managed by ourselves this long. Don’t feel obligated to ‘do the right thing’ or anything.” She said the words lightly, but it took every inch of her will power to not throw herself on Nicolas and confess everything her heart had kept hidden.

“I’ve been managing by myself for too long,” Nicolas said. “I thought that’s what I wanted. That the ache I felt when you left was because you ran out on me before I got a chance to break up with you.” He sighed. “But it’s obvious what’s wrong. I love you. I always have. You’re what’s missing in my life.”

Gabby bit her lip. “You do?” she took a deep shuddering breath. “Sometimes I thought you hated me.”

“I tried to tell myself that. But I guess it was just a defense mechanism.” He took her hand and looked up into her eyes. “Sorry to have not trusted you from the beginning.”

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

He dropped his gaze. “But I’ll understand if you don’t feel the same way. I mean, you have Fraser to think of.”

“What? No. Of course I do.”

“Do?”

“Love you. I mean, I love you too.”

“Well that’s lucky. Because that ring goes with another one. Lift out the tissue from the bottom of the box.”

Gabby shut her eyes. “No. I can’t. It’s too much. You do it.”

She heard Nicolas chuckle. “You’re sure you want me to? I can always save it for later.”

Her eyes snapped open and she pulled the tissue from the gift wrapped box. “Oh my goodness.” The antique ruby and diamond cluster, set in a band of rose gold was too perfect.

“So. Will you?” Nicolas asked and she realized he was down on one knee, holding her hand.

“Go on Mommy,” Fraser stage whispered from over by the Christmas tree.

Gabby laughed even while a cascade of tears made their way down her face. “Yes. Oh, of course yes. Yes!”

Nicolas’s eyes no longer seemed grey as they gazed up into hers. Gabby realized they held the glint and sparkle of precious metal and as he slipped the ring onto her finger, she couldn’t help feeling all her Christmases had come at once.

Michele’s Acknowledgements

All an author needs to work is quiet, a sharp pencil and chocolate. Right? If only it were that easy. I’d like to thank all the people who help get dreams onto paper. A big yeay goes to my writing buddy Carmen Falcone, who has turned from Critique Partner into Release Buddy Badass. Thanks for always being
OMG are you kidding we should definitely do that
– to All Of The Things. To my awesome writing pals, Talia Hunter, and Trudi Jaye who are constantly there with support, and sometimes wine. And in a similar vein, but perhaps with more chocolate, thanks to the women with eagle eyes for story and typos, Evelyn Berry, Bronwyn Evans and Shar Barrett. And thanks to our cover designer Carrie for putting up with our wondrous pontification! Thanks also to the Romance Writers of New Zealand who, by being around, have provided me with valuable insight and craft lessons. To all the writers who I have twitter-sprinted with, facebook-partied with, and generally have spurred on creative madness, thanks. What an amazing community.
 

I also need to put out a big thanks to my family, especially my husband, who takes the children to the park when deadlines approach. And to my two boys, for making me laugh and remember to not take life so seriously.

Finally, thanks to you the readers, I love it that you read our books, that’s what this is all about. May the perfect hero find you and bring you a glorious happy ending, ideally with chocolate for desert. Thanks for all the love and happy reading!

About Michele

Michele de Winton loves sunshine, chardonnay, (preferably together), beaches, trees, great vegetarian food, steamy writing and happy endings. She’s been known to be an all round arty type and it's no wonder that her first romance had a little sparkle of the stage tucked into its pages.
 
Being a writer was not was she was supposed to be when she ‘grew up' but then neither was being a dancer. Her poor parents. They thought that when she toddled off to law school they'd bred a responsible, useful adult and instead they got a performer and word junkie. Sometimes her performing past jumps into the dress up box and requires attention. But most of the time she’s content to stay in her PJs. All day. She writes surrounded by the whisper of trees from her home in New Zealand and with only intermittent interruptions from her two young sons and husband. (Okay more like regular interruptions, but dreaming is free.)

You can check out her other work or get in touch at
www.micheledewinton.com
 

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Other titles by Michele de Winton

The Boss and Her Billionaire

Love Lost and Found

The Billionaire Bundle

A Talon at Her Throat

This Christmas sex, murder and family lies will rock under the tree…

After doing time for a crime she didn’t commit, paramedic nurse Sydney Bell avoids trouble at all costs. Yet, trouble comes knocking on her door when a dying patient begs her to deliver a mysterious message to hunky Argentine investor Alejandro Soto.
 

 

Alejandro needs to publish the one book that will help restore his image and aid his uncle’s political campaign. It's full steam ahead until a feisty redheaded woman storms into his office and offers a clue to his biographer’s death. He’s skeptical about Sydney, and laughs it off but after she’s attacked, Alejandro realizes he has no choice but to protect her, whether she likes it or not. He can't have another death on his conscience.

 

A crazy attraction threatens to make Sydney surrender to her Argentine savior, but will she be ready for the Christmas scandals that will rock them along the way?

This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to any locales, or persons living or dead is coincidental.

Cover by Carrie at Cheeky Covers

Copyright ©2014 Carmen Falcone. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, transmit in any form or by any means. For information on subsidiary rights contact the author via her website

www.carmenfalcone.com

ISBN - 978-1-63443-049-4

Christmas Scandal

Carmen Falcone

To all the fabulous members of my street team, Carmen’s Crew. I am so lucky to have you in my corner. Thanks so much for your unwavering support, and beautiful friendship. Keep on rocking, ladies!
 

Chapter 1

“Are you going to work the holidays again, Sydney?” Patty asked through the headset.
 

Sydney stopped contemplating the Christmas lights twinkling in downtown Chicago and nodded at her coworker sitting across from her in the tiny EMS helicopter. “Yeah.”
 

The chopper started to descend, and her stomach fluttered, the same sensation she’d had the first day she started the job as a paramedic nurse, a year ago. A little thrill went through her, and she bit back a smile. Flying and tending to patients wasn’t just an occupation, it was her therapy. It yanked her from the bleakness of her life.
 

“You know, you can come over our place for Christmas Eve. We play board games and my husband bitches about my gluten free buns.” Patty rolled her eyes.
 

 
“Sounds like a dream.” Sydney kept her voice light, teasing, but the truth was it
did
sound idyllic. When was the last time she shared a Christmas meal with family? She chewed the corner of her lips.
Never.
The foster families she lived with until she figured out how to ditch the system never offered her any sense of belonging. “I’ll be working, though. Thanks.”
 

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