Carrie Alexander - A Holiday Romance

“Kiss me.” Kyle touched his forehead to Alice’s, repeated the incredible words, with his voice so husky it sent shivers across her skin. “Kiss me.”

“That’s—that’s n-not—”

His hands closed around her upper arms. Holding her as if he’d never let go.

She shut her eyes. Her knees were giving out. “You can’t do this. You can’t kiss me.”

“I can.”

“No.” She stared at him—boldly. Perspiration stung her eyes. With a supreme effort she battled back the heady whirl of being admired, sought, wanted. “I couldn’t do that. Company policy, isn’t it? What’s wrong for your staff is wrong for you, too.”

Kyle’s surprise gave her a slim opening. She spun and jammed the key into the lock, then slammed the door behind her without looking back because she wasn’t at all certain that she shouldn’t have kissed him exactly as he’d wanted.

Damn the consequences…

Dear Reader,

Who wouldn’t love to have A Holiday Romance? There’s something magical about the thought of being swept away by romance and adventure while on vacation from your everyday world. What better time to have a fantasy come true?

A Holiday Romance is the companion book to last year’s Nobody’s Hero, which was the story of the man who stayed at Alice Potter’s island cottage. This time, Alice gets her turn at a luxury Arizona resort. After years of putting her dreams on hold in order to give to others, Alice is determined to finally find her own adventures, even if that means stepping out of her comfort zone and into a desert monsoon. Along the way she also lands a romantic hero. Maybe even two of them!

On holiday, almost anything can happen….

XOXO,

Carrie Alexander

P.S. To see more of Alice’s postcards home, visit me on the Web at www.carriealexander.com, where you can also find my backlist, drop me a line and perhaps enter for my latest giveaway.

TORONTO • NEW YORK • LONDON

AMSTERDAM • PARIS • SYDNEY • HAMBURG

STOCKHOLM • ATHENS • TOKYO • MILAN • MADRID

PRAGUE • WARSAW • BUDAPEST • AUCKLAND

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Carrie Alexander considers every book she reads a mini-vacation, although she admits that writing them is not! A prolific author and two-time RITA ®Award finalist, Carrie lives year-round in her own vacation wonderland in the north country of Upper Michigan. Between deadlines and home improvement projects, she sometimes gets to enjoy it.

Available July 21-Aug 3, Prince Montez Oasis Resort, near Phoenix, Arizona: luxurious two-bedroom condo with all the amenities. Air-conditioning, private spa, garden tub with walk-in shower. Full access to resort activities, including golf, tennis, horseback riding and adventure sports. Fine dining, boutiques, night clubs. Last-minute listing—enjoy romance under the desert stars with this rare offer!

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

A N EXPERIENCED traveler would have known better.

Alice Potter scolded herself as she trekked up the wide stone steps of the grand hotel, panting and perspiring copiously even though the temperature had dropped since her arrival that afternoon. The walk from her quarters to the center of the resort had been longer and hotter than she’d expected.

July in Arizona! Most people—the smart ones—had fled north for the season. What had she been thinking?

The answer was simple. She’d been desperate to get far away from Maine. To a land of cactus and sunshine, where she could lose her old self like a snake shedding its skin. She’d expected that she would be someone different in Arizona. Someone unapologetically alive.

She licked her salty upper lip. “Bi-i-ig mistake.”

But was it?

“Ma’am?” prompted the doorman, a clean-cut fellow with apparently no sweat glands beneath his peaked cap and starched white coat. He’d opened the immense double doors, hand-carved slabs of wood inset with grids of glass framed by rustic black iron.

Alice thanked him and stepped inside.

The spacious lobby was an intimidating dazzle of light and activity. She paused to swipe a hand across her forehead, wishing she’d thought to bring a handkerchief. Surreptitiously she rubbed her palm on the flouncy fiesta skirt she’d purchased online. The white cotton eyelet top that exposed her indoor-pale arms and shoulders was already sticking to her skin.

She’d envisioned her arrival differently—a carefree stroll through a cool lobby populated by potted palms and lean, dark, mysterious men. Casablanca glamour by way of Phoenix luxury resort.

Instead, she was…well, she was still herself.

Nervous, uncertain, alone, and now sweaty, too.

But God bless central air. She sucked in a deep breath, thinking longingly of home. The fresh salt breeze that washed over the island, the cool shade of the sheltering pines. On Osprey Island, they didn’t need air-conditioning, even in summer.

For the past six years of her mother’s illness, Alice had rarely been off the island. Swapping Pine Cone Cottage for a two-week stay at a desert resort condo had been the first whim she’d indulged in in a very long time.

A member of the staff walked up to Alice and introduced herself as Chloe Weston, the assistant director of hospitality. “You look lost,” she said kindly.

“Overwhelmed,” Alice admitted. “I arrived this afternoon and I’m not quite sure what I’m doing here.”

“I see. Don’t worry, we’ll soon have you situated.” Chloe’s smile was punctuated by dimples. She wore the crisp white uniform jacket with a short black skirt and low-heeled pumps. A blond ponytail bounced up and down as she bobbed her head. “You’re all checked in?”

“Yes. I’m staying in one of the condos as a guest of the owner.”

“And you walked over here in this heat? Oh, my.” Chloe’s glance touched Alice’s face, which felt damp.

She fanned herself. “I’m afraid I picked the wrong season to come to Arizona for the first time. I’m not used to the heat.”

“It’s terrible, I know, but never mind. There are ways to work around the temps—morning or evening activities, afternoon siestas to stay out of the monsoons and dust.” Chloe’s good cheer was unwavering, even when delivering that somewhat alarming spiel. “Tomorrow I’ll give you a tour of the resort. We have riding stables, a huge new water park, lovely gardens, a golf course. And, of course, the spa.”

She peered more closely at Alice. “Hmm. I can usually tell just by looking what type of activities a guest will prefer. But with you, I’m not sure. Are you the spa type? Hot stone, shiatsu, mud bath, herbal wrap? Let me know. Appointments have to be booked early, even in the off-season. Spa treatments are popular with our female guests.”