This Holiday Magic. Celeste O. Norfleet

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This Holiday Magic - Celeste O. Norfleet Mills & Boon Kimani Arabesque

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there, staring straight at her?

      Then it hit her. The diagnosis was obvious. Among the plethora of symptoms for extreme exhaustion and jet lag was hallucinations. That had to be it. She smiled at the absurdity of her mind’s twisted sense of humor. She had been thinking about Tyson a lot lately and her subconscious had tuned in, so of course, here he was.

      Then the fabricated image slowly stood. “Hello, Janelle,” it said, smiling cautiously.

      Wow. This specter was amazing. It seemed so real, so much like Tyson, who was exactly the same as she remembered...same deep soul-stirring voice, same knee-buckling smile and same drop-dead-gorgeous body.

      She gazed at the face she knew so well. He was still handsome with keen angular lines and dark sexy bedroom eyes framed with long curly lashes. High cheekbones added to his classic features and his mouth was bowed just right with perfect fullness, his lips soft, firm and always so damn kissable. He was a confident man who had wealth and power. In all respects he was everything any woman could ever want and then some. She shook her head again. Even when he appeared as an illusion, the lean perfection of his body made her stomach flutter. She stared, unable to look away. Why did this vision have to be of him? She watched as his lips moved.

      Then he smiled and suddenly everything seemed all too real. A few seconds passed. It really was Tyson Croft standing there.

      “Janelle, you’re here,” he said happily. “You...you look—”

      “Tyson,” she said quietly, releasing a breath she hadn’t even realized she’d been holding.

      “Yes, it’s me,” he said softly. “God, it’s so good to see you. Your father and I were so worried about you.” He paused. “Is everything okay? Are you okay?”

      Speechless, she nodded her head slowly.

      “Good. Well, welcome home. You look exhausted.”

      Fate has a wicked sense of humor, Janelle thought to herself. It had taken her two years to get over the anger and pain of not having him in her life. Now here he was all over again. “What are you doing in my father’s office?” she asked, looking around the room. “Where is my father?”

      “Ben stepped out. He’ll be back in a few minutes.” He smiled, concern still shadowing his face. “Janelle, you have no idea how relieved I am to see you. When you called earlier, we were...” He paused. “I’m just glad you’re home safe,” he said, staring at her. “Are you going to scowl at me all night?”

      “Probably. Answer my question, Tyson. What are you doing here?”

      He looked down. “I’m working.”

      She scoffed. “What do you mean? My father would never agree to have you working here.”

      “I am. I’m working with your father.”

      She shook her head. “No, that’s impossible.” She boldly moved to the center of the room.

      “Nonetheless, here I am,” he said, gesturing around the office. “Your father said you were still in Africa. When did you get back?” Tyson talked as though nothing had ever happened between them, as if he had never walked out on her and their life together. He came from behind the desk toward her, talking, but she didn’t hear what he said.

      She looked at him, astonished. The audacity of his presumption was mind-boggling. But that was typical Tyson—totally arrogant and completely self-absorbed. The world revolved solely around him. How dare he presume he had the right to comment on her looks, on her life, as though what had happened between them had never happened?

      “No. No,” she said, seething with anger and holding her hand up to silence him. “You don’t get to just come up in here and chat with me like there’s nothing between us.”

      His expression instantly changed. “Janelle, I know you’re probably still angry and upset, and you have every right to be.”

      “I’m not. I got over that a long time ago.”

      He shook his head. “You’re angry, trust me,” he said.

      “How dare you?” She smiled and chuckled.

      “Janelle...” Tyson began.

      “Don’t ‘Janelle’ me!”

      “I understand your feelings. I just need you to know that I...” He paused.

      “That you what?” she said slowly. “Tell me—what could you possibly say to me that would change what happened between us? You see, silly me, I believed you back then. I believed in you, and you turned your back on me. So, no, sorry, I’m not that naive person anymore. You tore my life apart once before, but never again. You walked out on me. You don’t get to just walk back into my life now like it was no big deal. Like I said, I got over you a long time ago.”

      He nodded slowly and lowered his head. “Why don’t you just ask me what you really want to?” he said softly. When he looked back up at her, his eyes were piercing. “How could I leave you?”

      She looked at him, hurt. All of a sudden the old pain became fresh again. With one question, it had all come back. Yes, she’d wondered about the answer to that one question, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of asking what it was. She had vowed a long time ago that he would never affect her again. But right now, just seeing him standing there, brought up feelings she had thought long buried.

      “Janelle...”

      “Where is my father?” she asked. Her eyes narrowed in mistrust as she planted her balled fists on her hips.

      “He’s unavailable.”

      “You’re starting to sound like a broken record. Where is he?” she repeated.

      “He’s getting coffee in the break room.”

      She looked around her father’s office. It was usually neat, but now there were half-open boxes, files and paper everywhere. It was a cluttered mess. “What’s going on with my father’s company? Is this your next acquisition?”

      He looked hurt. “Do you seriously think that little of me?”

      “You’re kidding me, right?”

      He smiled and nodded. “Yeah, I guess I deserved that.” The raw, intense hunger she saw in his eyes made her take a step back. Her stomach shuddered. She swallowed hard, needing to regroup quickly. “Janelle...”

      “You need to leave.”

      “I can’t. I promised your father I’d do what I could to help him, and I will.”

      “He doesn’t need your help anymore. He has me now.”

      “Yes, he does. But you can’t help him with this.”

      “Tyson, leave now or I’ll call security and have you physically thrown out of here—your choice.”

      “Janelle, this isn’t about you and me. This is about your father, his company and his freedom.”

      “What

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