Pamela Yaye - A Very Merry Temptation - 'Twas the Season / Mistletoe in Memphis / Second-Chance Christmas

Have Yourself A Merry Tempting Holiday…

’Twas the Season by KIMBERLY KAYE TERRY

Overworked Nikki Danes is giving herself the perfect gift—a guilt-free affair with her firm’s gorgeous temp. But Max Hardaway isn’t exactly who he claims to be. And if he gets his holiday wish, their steamy night will be the first of many.…

Mistletoe in Memphis by PAMELA YAYE

Essence Sinclair needs to land the holiday catering contract for Lincoln Davenport’s company…almost as much as she wants the sexy exec himself. When Lincoln glimpses the sensual chef, he’s sure all his Christmas dreams have come true at once. Will this be a holiday fling—or magic that’s made to last?

Second-Chance Christmas by FARRAH ROCHON

The last time Ayana Taylor saw Jackson Richards, he broke her teenage heart. Now he’s the best man at her brother’s Christmas wedding. And Jackson hopes to earn her forgiveness and her love—one smoldering kiss at a time.…

’Twas the Season

Kimberly Kaye Terry

Mistletoe in Memphis

Pamela Yaye

Second-Chance Christmas

Farrah Rochon

www.millsandboon.co.uk

CONTENTS

’Twas The Season ’Twas the Season Kimberly Kaye Terry by Kimberly Kaye Terry

Mistletoe in Memphis Конец ознакомительного фрагмента. Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес». Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес. Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом. by Pamela Yaye

Second-Chance Christmas Конец ознакомительного фрагмента. Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес». Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес. Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом. by Farrah Rochon

To my daughter Hannah, who always inspires me to be the best that I can be, I love you, Pooh Monster, aka Jr ;)

To my fly reading divas who support me, I love you all and, as always, keep it sexy ;) ~KKT

’Twas the Season

Kimberly Kaye Terry

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Epilogue

Chapter 1

Nikki Danes took a small, cautious sip of the bright yellow sparkling wine. Her nostrils flared when the soft bubbles made contact. “Hmm,” she murmured, and glanced down at the crystal flute, still nearly full after she’d taken the token taste. She tilted her head to the side, considering the contents as though deep in thought.

“Not too bad for wine,” she continued, speaking softly to herself. She paused and narrowed her eyes, staring at the glass, considering.

If she didn’t know better, she would swear she was drinking champagne and not sparkling wine, she thought, frowning. But as she’d never actually tasted champagne, and this was just a MagHard Interior Design–sponsored employee soiree, she assumed it was wine. Although the company she worked for treated its employees well, that didn’t extend to spending thousands of dollars on champagne for the annual holiday event, aka an office party. At least that’s what she assumed.

But as this was her first time attending one, she couldn’t be certain.

“Whatever it is, I might as well enjoy,” she said, and brought the glass to her lips. She tipped her head back and took a generous drink.

The golden liquid flowed easily down her throat and her eyelids floated partially down as she enjoyed the sweet yet sharp-tasting alcoholic drink...whatever it was.

“Hmm, delicious.” She spoke aloud, softly. Again to herself. Not only was the taste delicious, it was...smooth. Intoxicating.

Nikki couldn’t be called a connoisseur by any stretch of the imagination, but it most definitely couldn’t be the corner-liquor-store variety of wine, she thought.

“So that’s what the good stuff tastes like, huh? I’d better be careful. I’ll be dancing on the tabletops if I drink too much of this stuff.” Yet she took another sip.

She found herself swaying lightly to the music as the band started up. She’d never been a fan of live bands, but her friend and cubicle mate, Tony Morales, had informed her this one was on point. He’d in fact heard the group perform at many area clubs, both straight and gay.

She smiled, thinking of Tony. Most of the time his information was gotten via the Tony connect, which was what he called his gossip trail, but this time he put the special Tony connect guarantee on it.

“The bomb...dot, tic, mami! And those tight little black leather jeans the lead singer wears...mmm. Caliente! Yeah, mami, you are most def in for a treat!”

As Tony considered himself an aficionado of all things club, she figured he knew what he was talking about. She had been disappointed when Tony had informed her he wouldn’t be attending, but really, she shouldn’t be. As much as she liked Tony, she would be crazy embarrassed if her friend knew what she wanted tonight...and more so if the night went as she planned.

Best to keep some things on the down-low, she thought, her body swaying lightly to the beat. They began to transition from the opening song to an even more upbeat one and Nikki nodded absently as they began to sing a popular hip-hop tune, the catchy beat and tight lyrics immediately recognizable.

Tony was right. Not too bad, she thought as the group began to encourage the partygoers to get to their feet and dance to the music. Although it was still fairly early in the evening, the party room, which was a sectioned-off area of the one of the hotel’s ballrooms, was already packed and an impressive number of her colleagues shuffled to the dance floor.

She brought the fluted glass to her lips again and drank as she surveyed the crowd.

Nikki rarely danced in public. Despite the mood-altering effects of the smooth-tasting wine, or champagne, or whatever it was she was drinking, it hadn’t yet given her the courage to approach the dance floor.

She knew she needed to be careful with her drinking. She hadn’t gotten around to eating the entire day, unless you counted the one Thin Mints cookie she’d gleefully found at the bottom of her backpack and devoured in less time than it took to snag it from the wrinkled plastic bag.

After pulling an all-nighter of editing a paper for her last graduate design course, she’d barely had time to take a quick shower before rushing to work, much less grab a bite to eat.

Nikki’s stomach growled and she glanced around, looking for a waiter carrying a plate of hors d’oeuvres. She needed crackers, chips...something. The music was pounding and the beat was intoxicating, yet she stifled a yawn. To say she was tired from a few nights of only getting three to four hours of sleep had to be the understatement of the year. She shook her head and blew out a breath, determined that she would enjoy the night and keep to the plan. She glanced around to see if the object of said plan was in attendance.