You Had Me At Christmas: A Holiday Anthology
Karina Bliss & Doyle,Stephanie & Florand,Laura & Lohmann,Jennifer & O'Keefe,Molly
About the Book
Rock star Jared Walker is within reach of career glory…but his marriage is in the pits. Determined to save it, he talks his wife into holiday dates with only one rule: they must pretend they are strangers.
But when he discovers what Kayla really wants for Christmas, will he be able to give it to her?
About the Author
New Zealander Karina Bliss’s debut won a Romantic Book of the Year award in Australia, and in 2016 she finaled for the fourth time with RISE–the first of her Rock Solid series, which digs into the private and family lives of rock stars.
Her fourteen romance novels have also received numerous accolades (Desert Island Keeper, ‘Best Of’ lists, RT Top Pick, Sizzling Book Club Chat) on reader sites like Dear Author, Smart Bitches and All About Romance. She lives north of Auckland with her husband and son.
You can contact Karina through her website: www.karinabliss.com
* Huge thanks to Molly O’Keefe for inviting me to join this anthology. I’m thrilled to be sharing pages with such talented authors. Also, many thanks to editor Wanda Ottewell for her tremendous skills and Serena Clarke for proofreading.
Chapter One
The hotel bar was stylized soulful, a perfect match for the man she’d agreed to meet.
Japanese floral arrangements arched toward their reflections in artfully angled wall mirrors. Bamboo planters provided privacy screens between the black circular booths, and their stylish occupants could be glimpsed through the green-leafed canes like exotic animals or colorful birds.
I don’t belong here.
Kayla Walker, twenty-seven, married for seven years and mother of two under-fives, hesitated at the beaten bronze double doors. She tightened the sash of her winter coat to give her waist more definition. Under it was the dress he’d sent her, with a note indicating the time and place.
Her nerves still jangled from the diabolical freeway traffic that had made her twenty minutes late, and a chore list growing longer than Santa’s. Come to think of it, this place didn’t have its tree up yet either. If L.A.’s chicest venue didn’t give a damn that they were in the first week of December, why should she?
Head in the game, girl. Think sexy thoughts. The future of your marriage depends on it. No, don’t think that. And you’re not married, tonight. Remember?
Taking a deep breath, she approached her illicit date, who sat at a middle bank of overstuffed, velvet-clad sofas, his hair gleaming like midnight oil under the spill of mood lighting.
Even amongst the beautiful people, he stood out, lean and darkly handsome, a warrior poet with stubbled jaw and deep-set eyes.
A leather coat, black with a scarlet lining was flung casually beside him and he wore black jeans, black boots and a moss-green merino sweater so fine it clung to every line of his muscular torso. The picture of lounging grace, except for the tight grip on his beer.
The small sign of nervousness warmed her. He isn’t sure I’ll show.
Seeing her, he stood, his relief giving way to a lazily confident smile that evaporated some of that warmth. When he bent to kiss her, she held out her hand instead.
His smile broadened as he returned her handshake. Yes, she’d decided to play.
“Sorry, I’m late.”
“As long as you’re here.” He went to help her off with her coat.
“Let me warm up a little first.” Kayla glanced around.
The dress was gorgeous but felt try-hard next to these casually hip sophisticates. She was too down-to-earth to pretend to be one of the cool people. And it felt like self-betrayal to try.
Skillful musician fingers teased the tension from her tight shoulders. “Stop over-thinking this. Tonight is about us. Just us. And this.” His fingers caressed the nape of her neck in a slow, soft slide and lust washed over her, so unexpectedly, that she closed her eyes to savor it. Vulnerability never used to be scary but she’d been rationing desire lately, trying to protect herself.
“Take off the coat, Kayla,” he said, his voice husky and the flame of lust flickered a little with anger. She’d made a lot of concessions to get here this evening. Admitted her marriage was still in trouble, for one.
She moved away from those magic fingers. “How about you work for it?”
He grinned, a pirate’s grin. “I can do that.”
But there was a plea in the pirate’s eyes. Give this a chance. Meeting as strangers for a sexy time-out had been his idea. Fresh start, no baggage. Mentally, Kayla untethered the mule bow-legged under the weight of hers.
Think sexy thoughts. “We should use pseudonyms to protect our anonymity,” she suggested, trying to get into the spirit of this. “You can call me Betty and I’ll call you Bob.” Oh yeah, Kayla, real sexy. The names of your geriatric neighbors.
“Bob” was struggling not to laugh and she let him off the hook by chuckling first. It helped. I don’t have to treat this date like an exam I have to pass. All I have to do is lighten up.
Taking a seat, she caressed the couch’s red velvet upholstery. “This place is ex-sumptuous.” Expensive was a loaded word, with his career was in transition. Famine to feast to somewhere in the middle, she suspected, at least for the next six months. But they weren’t here to talk about the economy.