Therese Beharrie - Her Festive Flirtation

The bridesmaid, the best man...

A Christmas wedding they’ll never forget!

A year after being jilted, Ava Keller finds herself forced back up the aisle—as bridesmaid at a beautiful Cape Town wedding. Best man—and Ava’s first crush—Noah Giles is the perfect distraction from her painful memories. But their flirtation turns serious when Ava’s feelings for him resurface! Hurt when Noah left after their kiss years before, will Ava give their chemistry a second chance?

Being an author has always been THERESE BEHARRIE’s dream. But it was only when the corporate world loomed during her final year at university that she realised how soon she wanted that dream to become a reality. So she got serious about her writing, and now writes the kind of books she wants to see in the world, featuring people who look like her, for a living. When she’s not writing she’s spending time with her husband and dogs in Cape Town, South Africa. She admits that this is a perfect life, and is grateful for it.

Also by Therese Beharrie

The Tycoon’s Reluctant Cinderella

A Marriage Worth Saving

The Millionaire’s Redemption

Tempted by the Billionaire Next Door

Surprise Baby, Second Chance

Conveniently Wed, Royally Bound miniseries

United by Their Royal Baby

Falling for His Convenient Queen

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk.

Her Festive Flirtation

Therese Beharrie

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-07836-8

HER FESTIVE FLIRTATION

© 2018 Therese Beharrie

Published in Great Britain 2018

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

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www.millsandboon.co.uk

For Grant,

who makes every Christmas the best day of the year.

And for my family. I love you.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

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

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

EPILOGUE

Extract

About the Publisher

‘MA’AM, I CAN’T let you go in there.’

‘But—’

‘No “buts”.’ The man turned back to where smoke obscured the eco-estate where Ava Keller’s home was. ‘There’s no way you’re going into that.’

Ava gritted her teeth. She hated him. Though she’d never met the man before, she hated him.

The rational voice in her head told her she was projecting. That coming home from work to find her home covered in smoke had upset her. That being upset had manifested itself in her short tone and strong emotions. Like hatred.

Yes, the rational voice said. She was definitely projecting. But then, she’d never prized rationality in stressful situations. That was why, when she’d been left at the altar a year before, she’d attended the wedding reception. She’d eaten the cake. She’d gone on her honeymoon.

Rationality wouldn’t make her feel less stressed. Nor would it make her less emotional. And rationality wasn’t going to save one of the only things in her life that was still important to her.

So when an idea occurred to her and the rational voice warned against it, she knew she was going to do it. And though it was a bad idea—a terrible one—she would do it anyway.

Heaven help her.

She turned, walked a few steps away from the wall of men blocking the path to her house, and let out a bloodcurdling scream.

They hurried towards her, and later she would think that they must have made quite a picture. Those huge, muscular men in their official uniforms—some firefighters, some police—hurrying over to her as if they were lions and she were fresh meat.

She would also later think that at least ten men hurrying over to her had been overkill. But right now she was pretending to be a damsel in distress, and she was certain that merely the idea of that caused men to flock.

Really, her duping them was their own fault.

And that of her excellent acting skills.

Unfortunately, being a copywriter for a cybersecurity company didn’t often allow her to illustrate how dramatic she could be.

‘I think... I think I just saw a person .’ She gripped the shirt of the man closest to her. ‘Right there—down the path at that bush.’ Now she injected a layer of panic into her voice. ‘It’s so close to the fire, Sergeant. And it looked like my neighbour. An old man with no teeth.’

There was a beat when she wondered whether she’d gone too far. She had laid it on a little thick. Mr Kinney was barely fifty. He had all his teeth and he wasn’t in danger.

To make it more believable, she let out another tiny little screech. And when the man who’d blocked her from getting near her house moved forward to comfort her she cried, ‘No, no, not me. Help him . Help him! ’

If the fire didn’t do the job first, Ava knew she was going to burn in hell.

But it worked, and three of the men ran down the pathway while the others moved forward, bodies tensed, ready to help if necessary.

It was all she needed. Without a second thought for how irrational she was acting, Ava bolted up the incline of the road she’d been blocked from earlier, and didn’t stop until she was so far from the men she’d left behind she could barely see them.

Nor could she see in front of her.

When panic crept up her throat, she ignored it. Told herself to remember all those nights she’d spent unable to sleep and Zorro had comforted her. To remember that it was only when she was looking after him that she felt capable. Able. And not as if some of her personality traits—her honesty, her bluntness—meant she somehow couldn’t be a partner. A wife.