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“Are you up for a little adventure?”
Reece remembered how excited Abby had been, and it had been just as hot for him, too. Did she still want that?
“It’s been building between us ever since we were kids, Abby. It’s time we took a chance on us.”
Needing her answer right then, he pulled her up close to him, his hands traveling up her back and into her hair.
It was like silk. He wanted to feel it trailing over his shoulders, his chest, everywhere.
The thought made his kiss less introductory, less tentative, than it might have been otherwise.
He took her soft lips and opened her mouth, swallowing a deep moan that came from her immediately. She felt so right, but better, the flames leaping between them were incredibly hot.
Her arms went around his neck, and she twined her tongue with his, as she strained to meet his every move.
He’d take that as a yes.
Dear Reader,
Christmas can be one of the most romantic times of the year, but the holidays can also bring enormous stress. What better way to escape it all than with a hot romance? That’s what my heroine, Abby, is thinking, when she decides to give herself a little much-needed Christmas cheer by having a holiday fling with the boy next door, Reece Winston.
Reece is happy to oblige, as he’s never quite forgotten the pretty friend he always teased in school, but now Abby is all grown up, and Reece wants to make up for lost time. Neither one of them anticipates falling in love, but Christmas is a time for surprises, too.
Best of the season to you and your family, whichever holiday you celebrate. I hope you enjoy I’ll Be Yours for Christmas (maybe with a nice glass of wine or hot chocolate), and that Abby and Reece’s story can offer you a little escape from the hustle and bustle, as well.
Happy holidays,
Samantha Hunter
About the Author
SAMANTHA HUNTER lives in Syracuse, New York, where she writes full-time. When she’s not plotting her next story, Sam likes to work in her garden, quilt, cook, read and spend time with her husband and their dogs. Most days you can find Sam chatting on the Blaze® boards online at eHarlequin.com, or you can check out what’s new, enter contests or drop her a note at her website, www.samanthahunter.com.
I’ll be Yours
for Christmas
Samantha Hunter
1
ABBY HARPER’S EYES clung to the man who stood not twenty feet away, dressed in an expensive silk suit that glided over his broad chest and muscled arms like water over rock.
Reece Winston.
She frowned, watching the restaurant hostess sidle up a little closer than necessary, making sure Reece had a clear view down the deep V of her low-cut blouse.
Abby couldn’t blame her, not really, taking in the impressive figure Reece made as he turned, noticing the way the tailored pants clung to a perfect masculine ass that had her fingers itching to reach out for a squeeze.
She knew just how it would feel. She’d been there, done that.
Almost, anyway.
Once, a long, long time ago. How unfair—or pathetic—was it that she could remember the feel of one man’s backside from eight years before?
To his credit, Reece barely seemed to notice the hostess, as he was deep in conversation with a small, hawkish man who stood beside him. Abby had heard Reece was home but hadn’t seen him around, even though he lived next door.
That wasn’t unusual. He’d come home a few times over the years since he’d left for life in Europe, but their paths had never intersected. She’d been off to school, or busy working at her parents’ winery, and Reece had his life as a famous race car driver on the Formula One circuit. With the differences between their two lives, the half a mile between their homes might as well have been a thousand.
This was the first time she’d actually seen him anywhere but in a local newspaper or television sports report. Her heart beat a little too quickly for her liking. So she turned her attention away, though she wasn’t really looking at the crowds milling around the Ithaca Commons, the artsy, outdoor shopping plaza in the heart of the small central New York city.
It was almost a month before Christmas, the Friday after Thanksgiving, which she had spent catching up on inventory. Abby and her friend Hannah were meeting here for lunch, something Abby had been looking forward to all week. Some downtime and a chance to forget about work for an hour or so.
Some light snow fell, blowing and circling around the booted feet of shoppers and local shopkeepers who were moving around the walkway. She hardly noticed. Her mind insisted on reminiscing about Reece.
She’d only kissed him once, on a crazy, wine-drenched evening one summer when he’d been home from college, the semester before he took off for Europe. They were both at the same lakeside party given by a mutual friend. Even then, Reece ran with a crowd way out of Abby’s league.
Abby had been seeing Josh Martin back then, a graduate student from Cornell Veterinary College who helped out at their vineyard, where they also hosted a small petting zoo with goats and sheep. Josh was a great guy. Cute.
Abby had been lying in wait by a dense hedgerow, intent on seducing her date. When she pulled the man she thought was Josh into the quiet, dark spot, she didn’t give him a chance to say anything. She kissed him in clear invitation before he could say a word.
Abby discovered early on that she liked some kink with her sex, and Josh had a kind of quiet reserve that she took as a challenge. Sex outdoors at a party, with people right on the other side of the hedge, was an exciting thought for her, but she knew her mild-mannered date would have to be convinced.
She had pretty much made her way around second base heading for third when she told him how pleased she was with his sense of adventure and wondered what other experiments he might be up for.
Reece had chuckled softly and whispered in her ear that he would be happy to try anything she wanted to suggest.
She’d recognized his voice, and her mistake, immediately.
It had been so humiliating. Even now, her cheeks burned to think of it. She’d popped out from the hedges without even fixing her clothes, much to the amusement of some onlookers in the yard. Reece walked out, too, completely unapologetic with his shirt still unbuttoned, his eyes hot and the top button of his jeans undone. The button she had been
