New Year's Resolution: Romance!. Leslie Kelly

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New Year's Resolution: Romance! - Leslie Kelly

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body, and then she clack-clack-clacked out of the foyer, her high heels moving even quicker than her pulse.

      She breezed through the hall, sped along the kitchen floor, and was then out in the brisk air, where she breathed in great gulps of calming oxygen. Her hand was on the cold chrome of the door handle when he spoke from behind her.

      “I’m serious,” Chase said. “I need a hostess. Could you help me out?”

      “You’re joking,” she said without turning around.

      “No.” He came close enough that she could smell the expensive cologne he wore—or maybe it was just expensive soap because it was a clean scent and not a clingy one. “I’ll pay you well.”

      Now she chanced a glance over her shoulder. “For what, exactly?”

      His eyebrows shot toward his forehead. “Why, Ashley, we’ve only just met. Nothing indecent, okay? I’m a businessman, and this offer is entirely on the up-and-up.”

      It wasn’t disappointment that sluiced through her. “You’d better spell it out.”

      “Come live here for a week. Even out the numbers of men and women at the house party. Smile. You might even have a little fun.”

      “Why would you want me?” she asked, finally turning to face him.

      “It’s not such a crazy impulse, I promise you. The thing is, you’re dressed for the occasion.”

      “Well, true,” she acknowledged with a slight nod of her head. “Though it’s for an entirely different party.” With chips, dip and Moose.

      “Are you married?” Chase asked.

      Stu. With his streaky blond hair and his snow tan. He’d burned through life too soon. “Not anymore.”

      “Boyfriend?”

      She shook her head.

      “Well, there you go. I need a single female pretty much immediately, and you’re already here. Plus, I’m a generous employer.” He named a sum.

      She nearly gasped. “I couldn’t accept that.”

      Chase frowned. “Now I see you need to take me up on this. Your negotiating skills are severely lacking. I can teach you a thing or two, I’ll bet.”

      A shiver tiptoed down her spine. Ashley ignored it. “For all that I’d be grateful for it,” she said, her voice sugar-sweet, “we both know that a big, bad businessman like yourself can handle a week on his own just fine.”

      “Also true.”

      A laugh bubbled up from her belly. He was confident, all right.

      “But...” He drew a fingertip along her cheek, and when she shivered, unable to hide it this time, he frowned and stripped off his jacket. Dropping it over her shoulders, he tugged the lapels close beneath her chin.

      Though his warmth instantly enveloped her, she still had to fight another betraying shiver. “But?” she prompted.

      His serious gaze caught hers. “Here’s the thing, Ashley. I guarantee if I don’t have a woman by my side, one of the clients will feel as if she has to step up. And this week isn’t about requiring any of those who work with us to take on responsibilities. It’s about shedding them. They’re supposed to have a good time and relax in the capable Bradley hands. It makes them feel more comfortable with our firm.”

      That actually made sense, Ashley thought. It was a logical, very legitimate, business-backed argument. Hadn’t she already supposed a man with his kind of success in his line of work would make rational and shrewd decisions?

      Maybe she should let that rub off on her. And if she did... Well, she had two free weeks. Grabbing up this opportunity to make a fistful of cash during one of them would give her some cushion in her bank account. At the very least she could buy outfits other than T-shirts and jeans for that shell-stepping-out-of she’d said she’d be doing in the new year.

      In her year of yes.

      She hauled in a breath that smelled of lake and snow and just a little bit of Chase Bradley. It was an intelligent choice, she thought. Not a crazy impulse, as he’d assured her. She would be taking no kind of risk at all, really.

      “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

      * * *

      CHASE CONGRATULATED HIMSELF a few hours later for his powers of persuasion. Ashley Walker had been a fine snap decision. And even though she’d started a fire inside him by that little mime with her finger—something he’d noted she’d instantly regretted—he’d managed to come up with a sensible argument that got her to agree to be his hostess.

      It had paid off.

      She’d greeted his guests smoothly, helped to make sure everyone had drinks during the cocktail hour, kept talk flowing during dinner with those closest to her at the table. While not a loud, lampshade-on-her-head, life-of-the-party type—thank God—her shyness seemed strictly reserved for him. With everyone else she was easy with her smiles and her conversation.

      As the only local in the group, she was called upon to dispense nuggets of the area’s history and to suggest nearby attractions. The party was made up of people who possessed a high degree of wealth, but she didn’t appear intimidated nor did she pretend to be anything but a woman who worked with her hands and enjoyed doing so.

      She fascinated him.

      And it wasn’t lost on Chase that he’d have an opportunity to kiss that fascinating mouth of hers at midnight. It was tradition, right? And he wanted to taste her in a way he found most distracting. So he figured getting that taste out of the way as soon as possible would be beneficial for his plans for the rest of the week. He’d satisfy his curiosity and then get on with the more important task of cementing integral business relationships for another year.

      But it also wasn’t lost on him that the locking of lips wouldn’t happen unless he got her more comfortable around him.

      His mother had arranged for a pianist to play on the grand piano in the great hall after dinner. Muted TVs in other rooms were tuned to the big countdown shows, but most people opted for getting another drink from the bar and enjoying the live music. The musician played a classy selection of tunes: Gershwin to Billy Joel, Sinatra standards to Broadway songs.

      When a handful of couples took to the dance floor while the man played “New York State of Mind,” Chase looked for Ashley. She stood alone by the windows, sipping sparkling water as she stared out at the view toward the lake. Fairy lights had been strung through the trees and wrapped the rail surrounding the deck. The light snow on the ground glittered. A winter wonderland.

      “Pretty, huh?” he asked, coming up behind her.

      She started, glancing around. “Sorry, I was woolgathering.”

      “The beginning of a new year is conducive to deep thought,” he said, aware that she edged away to put more inches between them. “Were you working on world peace or a solution to global hunger?”

      “You’re giving

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