caressed the baby’s cheek. “It fits. I want to offer him the kind of life he deserves.”
His words made something twist deep in Faye’s chest. Made her see another side of him that was all too appealing. It was the baby. It had to be. After the terrible tragedy she’d been through thirteen years ago, she’d learned to inure herself to getting involved, to forming an emotional bond.
And here she was, stranded with a man who appealed to her on so many levels, despite her best efforts to keep her reactions under control—and a helpless infant who called on those old instincts she thought she’d suppressed.
She knew he was determined to get to the root of why she was so unwavering about having nothing to do with the baby. Or him.
She couldn’t give in to temptation.
* * *
The Christmas Baby Bonus
is part of Mills & Boon Desire’s No.1 bestselling
series, Billionaires and Babies: Powerful men…
wrapped around their babies’ little fingers
A typical Piscean, USA TODAY bestselling author YVONNE LINDSAY has always preferred her imagination to the real world. Married to her blind-date hero and with two adult children, she spends her days crafting the stories of her heart, and in her spare time she can be found with her nose in a book reliving the power of love, or knitting socks and daydreaming. Contact her via her website, www.yvonnelindsay.com.
To my wonderful friends,
who often know me better than I know myself.
In particular to Nalini, Nicky and Peta for
prompting (aka pestering) me to write this book
while I stared with loathing (yes, I’m a Grinch)
at a Christmas tree, and to Shar,
who couldn’t make it that night
but who would have been pestering, ahem,
prompting me right along with them.
There, let that be the last tartan bow to be tied, Faye begged silently as she stood back and eyed the turned-wood balustrade that led to the upstairs gallery of the lodge. Swags of Christmas ribbon looped up the stairs, with a large tartan bow at each peak.
Not for the first time, she cursed the bad luck that had seen her boss’s usual decorator fall off a ladder and dislocate her shoulder a week before Piers was due to arrive at his holiday home here in Wyoming for his annual Christmas retreat and weeklong house party.
Faye had suggested he go with a minimalistic look for the festive season this year, but, no, he’d been adamant. Tradition, he’d called it. A pain in the butt, she’d called it. Either way, she’d been forced out of her warm sunny home in Santa Monica and onto an airplane, only to arrive in Jackson Hole to discover weather better suited to a polar bear than a person. So, here she was. Six days away from Christmas, decorating a house for a bunch of people who probably wouldn’t appreciate it. Except for her boss, of course. He loved this time of year with a childlike passion, right down to the snow.
She hated snow, but not as much as she hated Christmas.
She turned slowly and surveyed the main hall of the lodge. Even her late mother would have been proud, Faye thought with a sharp pang in her chest, before she pushed that thought very firmly away. The entire house looked disgustingly festive. It was enough to make a sane person want to hurl, she told herself firmly, clinging to her hatred of the season of goodwill. There was no reason to be sad about being alone for the holidays when she hated the holidays with a passion, right?
At least her task was over and she could head back to the sun, where she could hide in her perfectly climate-controlled apartment and lose herself in her annual tradition of binge-watching every Predator movie made, followed by every Alien DVD in her collection, followed by any other sci-fi horror flick that was as disassociated from Christmas as it was from reality.
She moved toward the front door where her compact carry-on bag was already packed and waiting for her retreat to normality and a world without decorations or Christmas carols or—
The front door swung open and swirl of frigid air preceded the arrival of her boss, Piers Luckman. Lucky by name and luckier by nature, they said. Only she knew what a hard worker he was beneath that handsome playboy exterior. She’d worked for him for the past three years and had the utmost respect for him as a businessman. And as a man...? A tiny curl of something unfurled deep inside her. Something forbidden. Something that in another person could resemble a hint of longing, of desire. Something she clamped down on with her usual resolute ferocity. No. She didn’t go there.
Piers stomped the snow off his feet on the porch outside then stepped into the lobby and unslung his battered leather computer satchel from one shoulder.
“Good flight?” she asked, knowing he’d probably piloted the company jet himself for the journey from LA to Jackson Hole.
He had no luggage because he always kept a full wardrobe at each of his homes peppered around the world.
“Merry Christmas!” Piers greeted her as he saw her standing there and unzipped his down-filled puffer jacket.
Oh, dear mother of God, what on earth was he wearing underneath it?
“Weren’t you supposed arrive on Saturday, the day before your party? You’re four days early,” she commented, ignoring his festive greeting. “And what, by all that’s holy, is that?”
She pointed at the gaudy hand-knitted sweater he wore. The reindeer’s eyes were lopsided, his antlers crooked and...his nose? Well, suffice to say the red woolen pompom was very...bright.
A breathtaking grin spread across Piers’s face.
Faye focused her gaze slightly off center so she wouldn’t be tempted to stare or smile in return. The man was far too good-looking, and she only remained immune to his charms because of her personal vow to remain single and childless. That aside, she loved her job and getting a crush on her boss would be a surefire way to the unemployment office.
After all, wasn’t that what had happened to a long line of her predecessors? It wasn’t like he could help it if personal assistants, who had an excuse to spend so much time with him, often found him incredibly appealing. He was charming, intelligent, handsome and, even though he’d been born with a silver spoon lodged very firmly in that beautiful mouth, he wasn’t averse to working hard, overseeing his empire with confidence and charisma. The only time Faye had ever seen him shaken had been last January, when his twin brother had died in a sky-diving accident. Since then he’d been somewhat quieter, more reflective than usual.
While Faye had often felt Piers had been a little on the cavalier side in his treatment of others—particularly his revolving door of girlfriends—he’d become more considerate over this past year. As if Quin’s death had reminded him just how fleeting life could
