Zara Stoneley - The Little Shop of Afternoon Delights - 6 Book Romance Collection

Nick hammered on the door. “I hate to break up the party, guys – but I don’t want to miss my flight.”

They broke from the delirious oblivion of each other. He rocked her world. His soft mouth and the rasp of his unshaven skin made her giddy. She remembered to breathe, and committed to memory his uniquely gorgeous scent of spicy guy.

Her impending Tube journey dragged her back to reality, as if she had lead feet instead of six-inch sequined heels. She had to go home and pack and get herself to Cornwall for what promised to be a traditional, but distinctly uneventful, Christmas break: just her and grandma, as per usual, same as every year in the ten or so since her mother had left.

“I don’t want to go,” she breathed in a whisper. “I wish we could just stay here for the holidays.”

A low groan of frustration echoed from deep in Alex’s throat. “Same.” He brushed her lips in a final parting kiss. “Take these.” He gave her his much-too-big gloves and she stuffed her hands into them.

Nick practically fell through the door as she opened it. “Bye Nick,” she chirped, adding with a cheeky smile, “Good luck with the audition. You’d make a lovely vampire!”

She wanted to mean it. The opportunity meant everything to Nick, even if warring vampire brothers wasn’t exactly Alex’s cup of tea.

“Sayonara, Santa Girl.” He sniggered at her fancy-dress costume. “I’d say thanks if I thought you meant it. Vamoose.” He held the door wide open for her to make an exit. “Cheerio. Toodle-pip. Have a nice life.”

Nick wanted her out of the picture and he wasn’t making any effort to hide the fact. What did he think she might do? Abduct Alex and keep him prisoner in a beach cave so he couldn’t go to LA for their big, life-changing audition. It was a tempting thought. She glared at Alex’s younger twin and froze him out, pretended he had on an invisibility cloak and stood her ground.

She only had eyes for the dark-haired, blue-eyed twin. “Walk you to the Tube?” Alex offered.

Tongue jammed into her cheek, Maggie arched a brow and razed nearly-naked-Alex with a top-to-toe look. She shook her head. “I. Don’t. Think. So.” Despite her ridiculous appearance she was aiming for a sophisticated vibe, like she was terrifically cool with the fact that at some point in the previous twelve hours the world had tilted on its axis and they had become something that was a whole heap of fabuliciousness more than friends. Only her composure cracked and she bubbled over with a fit of the giggles. “Arrivederci. I’ll see myself out.”

“I’m glad you see the funny side.” His drawl echoed in the stairwell. “I’ll call you in Cornwall.”

“Be warned.” She managed to sound nonchalant, even though her heart was racing, “The signal’s rubbish down there. Most of my grandmother’s texts get lost in cyber space for days on end.”

Outside on the London street snow had started to fall, coating everything in a thin layer of white, like frosting on a Christmas cake. Maggie shivered. Tottering to the Underground station, she fumbled her toasty fingers out of Alex’s gloves and texted him. “GBFN.”

A second later his reply pinged onto her phone. Her heart jumped. She missed everything about him already – his strong arms, the touch of his big hands. Suddenly she felt bizarrely isolated. She stopped stock-still on the busy street, a lone eccentric figure in red silk, sequins and oversized knitwear. A skinny black cat with white paws had been watching her from its perch on top of a rubbish bin. It jumped down and twisted itself against her legs. Purring loudly, it circled her, almost knocking her off balance. “Give me a break, Puss-in-Boots,” she muttered through chattering teeth. “It’s hard enough to walk in these stupid shoes as it is. Black cats are supposed to bring good luck,” she scolded chirpily. “I’ll not be feeling very lucky if you trip me up and I break my ankle!”

A sharp tap on the shoulder made her jump. She spun round to find Nick smiling down at her, holding a shoe box. “You can’t go home in those things,” he said, nodding at her feet, and whipping the lid off the box with a flourish. “Ta-dah …” He held out a pair of brand-new boots. “… I’m the health-and-safety guy.”

“I can’t take those.”

“You can and you will,” he joked. “They’re a present.”

“For someone else,” she insisted.

“Yeah, but your need is greater.” He shrugged. “I can get something else.”

Steadying herself on his shoulder she swapped her heels for the flat, sheepskin boots. They were about a size too big but she wasn’t complaining.

“Thanks, Nick.”

“No problem.”

He turned and fled. She bit her lip and checked the screen on her phone.

I’ll call you when I get back. :-) Promise. Alex XXX

She hoped he’d be okay. He hated his parents lashing out at each other in the press. Publicity usually sent him retreating behind a wall of steely silence. Last night had been different. His barriers had come down like never before. If only she could rewind the clock and not fall asleep in his bed. What a twit!

She’d giddily tumbled into bed with Alex, a hot tangle of limbs, breath, skin. The rasp of a zip, feeling her sexy Santa dress fall to the floor, stayed fresh in her mind, even if the rest was hazy. She’d blown her budget on stockings and high heels, but not having anticipated revealing her undies to anyone, let alone Alex, they’d been on the ever-so-slightly unsightly side of things, grey from too many laundry days. Frankly her lingerie – if it qualified to be called that – had seen better days. She cringed, remembering the pause for condoms, uncertainty setting in. Having fruitlessly turned his room upside down, Alex had gone off to see if he could cadge one off a house mate. In a house shared by four guys, a stash had eventually been found. But by then, hit by a wave of embarrassment and beaten by the alcohol, she’d started drifting off to sleep. He’d held her, her hair tangled with his, her head in the curve of his neck, and they’d fallen asleep in each other’s arms, waking in the cold grey dawn to the realization that in a drunken frenzy they’d almost gone too far.

Except he’d kissed her again and now she was on cloud nine.

Flakes of snow swirled around her. She was having a snow-globe moment. Inside her own little bubble Nick’s words hit home. “Have a nice life.” Alex didn’t realize it yet, but as sure as lucky black cats didn’t wear white boots, the Wells twins were leaving London for good.

They wouldn’t be coming back from LA.

She’d fallen asleep and blown the only chance she’d ever have of making love to the gorgeous guy she’d been really more than a little bit in love with since the moment she’d first looked flirtily into his seductive eyes, and said, “My name’s Magenta, but my friends call me Maggie.”

Oh my giddy aunt! He’s actually on the flight!

What had possessed her when she’d accepted this last-minute styling job? Apart from itchy feet and the promise of a healthy paycheck, there was the decidedly unhealthy curiosity she still harbored over the big what-might-have-been-and-wasn’t-meant-to-be factor.

Secretly, she’d always kicked herself that she hadn’t had sex with Hot Vampire Guy when she had the chance. Frankly, she should be over all that. And she was. Really, she was.

Magenta Plumtree, fashion-stylist-on-a-mission, boarded the flight from London Heathrow to Boston clutching her cabin baggage so tight that her knuckles turned white. A British magazine had hired her to fly out and style twin celebrities, Alex and Nick Wells, in two fashion shoots scheduled to coincide with the promo for the final series of their top-of-the-ratings television show, Mercy of the Vampires . It was all very last-minute and a bit of a shock.