Sweet Silver Bells. Rochelle Alers

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Sweet Silver Bells - Rochelle Alers Mills & Boon Kimani

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a local car service programmed into his phone.

      There was so much more she wanted to know about him, yet was reluctant to ask. She just wasn’t prepared to accept any more revelations. And because he knew her uncle, there was also the possibility he had been familiar with her aunt and cousins.

      She wrapped her arms around her body as much to ward off the morning chill as to protect herself from someone she wasn’t prepared to possibly become involved.

      What-ifs nagged at her like exposed, inflamed nerves. If her mother hadn’t had a meltdown delaying her arrival, she would’ve spent the night with her cousins instead of the Beaumont House. If Algernon hadn’t had a family emergency, she would have shared a table with him instead of Joseph. Now she was exacerbating the situation by inviting him to meet her cousins.

      Crystal didn’t get the overt vibe that Joseph was coming onto her, but even if he was, she knew his efforts would be fruitless, and not because she had qualms about establishing a friendship with a man.

      Her sole focus was the exclusive commission to decorate the historical structures with exquisite antiques and reproductions. She’d spent months in furniture warehouses and at estate sales looking for pieces with which to decorate a nineteenth-century Lowcountry residence. It wasn’t just furniture she’d sought but also accessories, including candlesticks, vases, rugs, apothecary jars, clocks, linens, teapots and other collectibles.

      She’d recommended Algernon rent a storage unit. Several pieces she had purchased at an estate sale were carefully wrapped, crated and shipped to him at the Beaumont House, where he arranged for them to be stored in the unit that was quickly filling up with sets of china and silver. Once she inspected the restored buildings, Crystal would be faced with what to put into each room. And in keeping with the time period, she’d planned for the walls to be covered with wallpaper, tapestries or even fabric.

      She was anxious to begin her first significant commission.

      “A dollar for your thoughts.”

      Joseph’s soft, drawling voice shattered her reverie. Smiling, she turned to face him. “I thought it was a penny.”

      “That was before inflation,” he countered. Slipping out of his jacket, he placed it over Crystal’s shoulders. “You look cold.”

      Tugging on the lapels, she inhaled the cologne clinging to the cashmere fibers. “Thank you, but aren’t you going to be cold?” She had on a suit, while he was in his shirtsleeves.

      “No. After spending so many winters in upstate New York with lake-effect snow, I rarely feel cold.”

      “When I was here last January it was much warmer than it is now.”

      “Last year was unusually warm.” Joseph stared at Crystal’s distinctive delicate profile. “Did you bring winter clothes with you?”

      Crystal nodded. “Yes. However, I didn’t expect to stand outside when I got dressed this morning.” Her wool gabardine pantsuit wasn’t adequate for the low-forties temperature. As someone who lived in Florida year-round, anything below fifty degrees was cool to her.

      A Lincoln Town Car maneuvered up to the curb, and Joseph, resting his hand at Crystal’s waist, led her to the rear of the limo as the driver alighted. “I’ll get the door, Mr. Wilson,” the chauffeur called out.

      Joseph stepped back, permitting the driver to open the rear door. Crystal got in first, and he followed, sitting beside her on the leather seat. Waiting until the man was seated behind the wheel once again, she gave him the address to her cousin’s house.

      Sitting close to Crystal, feeling her feminine heat and inhaling the hypnotic scent of her perfume was a bonus Joseph hadn’t anticipated when he suggested they share a table.

      The ride was much too short when the driver stopped in front of a classic example of a Charleston single house. The wrought-iron and stone pinecones atop ornate brick gates guarded the three-story structure with tall, narrow black-shuttered windows and first-and second-story white porches. The street address and 1800, the year the house was erected, were engraved into a brass plate affixed to one of the brick gate columns.

      “Nice,” Joseph crooned sotto voce. The house was surrounded by palmetto trees and several ancient oaks draped in Spanish moss.

      Crystal smiled. His reaction was similar to her own when she first saw Xavier’s house. “Wait until you see inside.” Selena had decorated the interiors in an iconic Lowcountry style.

      The driver came around to open the door and Joseph stepped out, extended his hand and assisted Crystal until she stood beside him. Reaching into the pocket of his jeans, he removed a money clip, peeling off a bill and handing it to the man. “I’ll need you to take us back to the Beaumont House later this afternoon.”

      The chauffeur pocketed the money, smiling, then handed Joseph a business card. “Thank you. Call me when you’re ready to go back.”

      Joseph put the card and money clip in his pocket. He rested a hand at the small of Crystal’s back as they walked together to the front door. He stood off to the side. She’d just raised her hand to ring the doorbell when the door opened.

      Ex-marine Major Xavier Eaton smiled at Crystal. He shifted the little girl he cradled on one hip. Extending his free arm, he pulled Crystal close and kissed her forehead. “Welcome back to Charleston.”

      Crystal pulled back, staring at Xavier’s deeply tanned face. He wore a white tee, jeans and running shoes, and his ramrod-straight posture signified he’d had military training. “Thank you. You wear your vacation well.”

      Xavier, Selena and their daughter, Lily, opted out of spending Christmas with the extended family when they’d flown down to Puerto Rico to stay with one of Xavier’s Marine Corps buddies who’d retired there once he was medically discharged. Xavier was also forced to resign his commission after a bullet had shattered his leg when he was deployed in Afghanistan. He’d been the quintessential bachelor whose dimples winked whenever he smiled until he stared through the plate glass of Sweet Persuasions to catch a glimpse of Selena Yates, the owner of the patisserie on King Street.

      He laughed softly. “I’m still in vacation mode.”

      Crystal rubbed noses with Lily Eaton, eliciting high-pitched giggles from the toddler. “Hi, sweet Lily.” Shifting slightly, she smiled at Joseph. “Xavier, I want you to meet a...a friend.” She didn’t know why she was stammering, but for an instant she didn’t know how to introduce him. “This is Joseph Wilson.” Reaching for Joseph’s hand, she eased him closer. “Joseph, this is my cousin Xavier Eaton. And the beautiful little girl is his daughter, Lily.”

      The two men shook hands. “Nice meeting you, Xavier.”

      “Same here, Joseph. Welcome and please come in.”

      Xavier noticed Crystal was wearing Joseph’s jacket over her suit, wondering if the man was the reason his cousin had changed her mind, deciding instead to spend several nights at the hotel. He successfully hid a smile. It’d been a while since Crystal appeared remotely interested in a man, and if she’d decided to bring Joseph to meet her relatives, he suspected he was more than a friend.

      He was deployed when his sister told him Crystal had relocated to New York to pursue her graduate studies, and Xavier found it hard to accept that she was living with a man, because it had been drilled into the

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