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Authors: Kayla Perrin

BOOK: All I Want Is You
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Her Holiday Gifts
Deborah Fletcher Mello
Chapter 1
“Well, I'll be damned!” Malisa Ivey cussed out loud as she tried for the umpteenth time to finagle the latch inside the small compartment she found herself trapped inside of. She couldn't believe this was happening to her, nor could she believe that whoever was suddenly moving the unit couldn't hear her screaming at the top of her lungs. She heaved a deep sigh, took a deep breath, and yelled once again. “Hello! Can anyone hear me?”
As she, and the crate she was stuck inside of, were being shuffled from side to side, the only sound that responded to her cries was the loud
THUMP THUMP THUMP
of someone's obnoxious music vibrating like thunder from the outside.
That does it!
Malisa thought. She was banning music from the kitchens, no ifs, ands, or buts about it. She knew the culprit blasting the stereo was her new hire, her seventeen-year-old cousin Darryl, and when she got out of her current predicament and managed to get her hands around his scrawny neck, he was surely going to be her first casualty.
Malisa cussed again as she was slammed hard against the side of the wood structure, the knock making her hit her forehead. Hard. She could already feel a major lump beginning to swell from the violation.
This was not how Malisa had intended to spend her Christmas Eve. She gently rubbed at the bruise she was sure would have her face looking like she'd gone three rounds with a heavyweight contender.
Shaking her head, she suddenly wished she'd packed up her knives and had gone home with the rest of the staff when she'd had the opportunity. The morning hours in the bakery had been brisk, customers racing to pick up their holiday treats before the business's three-o'clock closing time.
The counters were now completely bare of the assortment of cakes, breads, and pastries her restaurant, Sweet Tea and Grits, was renowned for. Malisa had been done for the day when Junior O'Malley had come for the last confection, a sweet-potato cheesecake he'd ordered for his mother. And she should have gone home then. But
no!
Not one to ever be satisfied, Malisa had decided to get an early start on the biggest order she had for New Year's Eve.
Just days earlier, a senior staff member with the Whitman Investment Corporation had come to place an order for the company's end-of-the-year black-tie soiree. The massive New Year's Eve cake she'd designed included a multitiered platform that a company employee was supposed to pop out of. Her brothers, Bryson and Zachary, had constructed the base, and Malisa had tested the structural integrity herself when she'd climbed inside to ensure there would be no problems the night of the event.
Clearly, though,
she thought,
there is a slight problem!
The musical interlude suddenly ceased, and she called out again, banging at the walls with a tightly closed fist. “Hello? Hello? Darryl Ivey, you better let me out of this thing! Darryl? Darryl? Darryl!” The quiet was short-lived as the music sounded again, only louder and even more obnoxious.
Malisa couldn't believe this was happening to her. She should have been at her parents' home with the rest of her family eating roast pork and her mother's mango salsa; instead she was beginning to think her twentyeight years were coming to an end inside a cake box on Christmas. Wondering when her nightmare was going to be over, she closed her eyes, wrapped her arms tightly around her torso, braced her feet and back against the wooden walls, and fought back tears.
 
 
Thirty-seven-year-old Gabriel Whitman reclined his lean body back against the leather executive's chair and lifted the length of his legs atop his desk. Clasping his hands behind his head, he heaved a deep sigh. Business never ended for the high-profile business tycoon. Not even on Christmas Eve when he needed to review the final details for his latest acquisition. Not until the last
i
had been dotted, and the final
t
crossed, would he be locking the doors of Whitman Investment Corporation for his holiday vacation.
Finally satisfied, he closed the manila folder, reached for the glass of brandy that rested in front of him, and took a sip. Taking a quick glance at the Breitling watch on his wrist, he noted the time. He had just over an hour to spare before his ex-wife would be making an appearance at his home, having taken their fifteen-year-old son, Trey, shopping for the holiday.
Much like when they'd been married, the woman had planned out his next twenty-four hours, supposedly for the sake of their child, and then he and Trey would be left to their own devices. Knowing the drama his ex-wife was sure to bring had Gabriel anxious for their “family” time to be finished so that he and his only child could enjoy the rest of their holiday in peace. He gulped the last of his drink and heaved a deep sigh. Rising from his seat, he pulled on his leather jacket, shut off the lights in his office, and headed out the door.
Like he did every year, he slowly strolled the halls of the large offices. He'd purchased the building five years ago, as the company had grown to be a formidable competitor among the many investment companies around the nation. Financial wheeling and dealing had always been Gabriel's strong suit, and he took quite seriously his responsibilities to the many investors who trusted him with their money. Those investors had put him at the very top of his game, and the rewards had been a true blessing.
Walking those halls, reflecting on the year's accomplishments and contemplating what was to come, kept him centered and fueled his spirit. He stopped in the reception area and peered out the expanse of glass that walled the building. The views of the Blue Ridge Mountains were engaging, and with the prediction of snow falling over the holiday, he imagined the sight to come would surely be magnificent.
Looking out over the empty parking lot, he couldn't help but notice the white-paneled truck that pulled into the drive and circled around to the building's receiving area. When the driver backed his way to the loading dock and stopped, Gabriel couldn't begin to imagine what was being delivered at such a late hour on Christmas Eve.
Chapter 2
Gabriel arrived at the back of the building just as the driver was climbing into the truck, preparing to pull off. Not missing the large crate sitting at the end of the loading dock, Gabriel shouted for the young man's attention. Watching the kid's head bob up and down to the music screaming from the truck's interior, Gabriel knew that he couldn't hear a thing. He shook his head as the young man pulled off, his tires screeching.
Walking a wide circle around the large box, he noted his company's name and address stenciled along the structure's side. Not one shred of paperwork was affixed to the container to indicate where it had come from or who it was being delivered to. Gabriel was perturbed by the display of incompetence, making a mental note to reprimand whoever had arranged for the delivery on his end.
Reaching for the iPhone in the breast pocket of his jacket, he thought briefly about calling his executive assistant to come handle the problem. Noting the time, he dismissed the idea, not wanting to pull her from her family. He didn't believe that whatever was inside was of any great importance, since it had been left so casually. He figured that no harm could come for allowing it to sit until the day after Christmas when one of his employees could see to it.
Making the decision, he was just about to do an about-face and leave when he heard a faint cry and knocking coming from the structure's interior.
From inside, Malisa was screaming at the top of her lungs, kicking and banging against the walls. Her voice was just about hoarse from her shrieking and yelling. That last jostle had slammed her hard inside the confines of the container, and now she was beyond the point of being mad. She was furious, and she pitied the soul who'd dumped her wherever she now rested. She knocked harshly, and when a faint voice suddenly responded, her eyes widened with relief.
“Hello? Is someone there? Please, help! I'm trapped inside. Somebody, please!”
Gabriel was momentarily stunned. “What the hell?” Certain that something inside was crying for assistance, Gabriel knocked on the exterior wall, and that something knocked back. His first instinct was to call the police. He was just a fingertip away from dialing 911 when a side panel on the structure suddenly gave way and a high-heeled, black suede boot attached to an obviously feminine leg pushed its way free.
“Hello?”
“What are you doing?” Malisa shouted. “Help me out of this thing!”
“Who are you?” Gabriel asked, his curiosity further piqued.
“Who are
you
?” Malisa responded, suddenly nervous, not recognizing the voice on the other side of the wall.
“I asked first.”
“So!” Her tone was indignant.
“So, I'm not the one looking for help to get out,” Gabriel said, amusement tinting his words.
There was a pregnant pause as Malisa reflected on his comment. “Can you at least tell me where I am, please?” she finally asked.
Gabriel nodded into the cold evening air. “You're at the loading area of Whitman Investment Corporation.”
Stunned, Malisa rolled her eyes skyward as she clutched the front of her blouse. Her cousin Darryl was definitely going to be one dead relative when she got her hands on him. She inhaled deeply and held it, fighting to calm her nerves.
“My name is Malisa Ivey,” she finally said, her seductive tone causing a quiver of curious heat to ripple across Gabriel's spirit.
He raised an eyebrow at the familiar name. “Any relation to Judge Gattis Ivey?” the man questioned.
Malisa paused, heat flooding her cheeks. Her head waving from side to side with embarrassment, she answered, “He's my father.”
Gabriel chuckled warmly. He had only recently made Gattis Ivey's acquaintance, the two men sitting on one of Asheville's public safety committees together. The patriarch's stellar reputation had preceded him, and Gabriel had much respect for the district court judge. He could just imagine the father's reaction to his daughter's predicament.
“So explain to me how you managed to get trapped in a container on Christmas Eve?” he asked.
“It's a long story,” she said, “but would you please just help me get out?”
“I should probably call the police,” Gabriel offered, a smug smile pulling at his lips.
“No!” Malisa shouted, her eyes bulging at the thought of any further embarrassment. “Please, just see if you can get the top to open. There's a handle on the side. I can't budge the latch from the inside. It's stuck. Please!” she pleaded.
Gabriel laughed again as he quickly searched the container for the handle she'd described. With a quick pull, the top of the box suddenly swung open. With a little wrangling, Malisa managed to pull herself upright so that she could stand on her feet, and then just like that, she was free.
As she popped anxiously out of the container, Gabriel's smile widened. The seductive voice belonged to an even more seductive body, the attractive woman inside teasing his sensibilities.
Malisa Ivey was a stunning caramel beauty with wide doe eyes that gave her a look of innocent wonder and belied the full pouty lips that begged to be kissed. Over black patterned tights she wore a form-fitting black cashmere sweater dress that just covered her assets, meeting those black suede boots thigh-high. She was lusciously curvy, and her sex appeal was heightened by her obvious spirit.
“Surprise?” Malisa said, amusement painting her expression as she glanced around her. Her sultry gaze fell on the handsome man who stood staring at her curiously.
The dark stranger was simply gorgeous. He was exceptionally tall, his height imposing. He was also nicely built, clearly hard-bodied. He was fastidiously dressed, a leather jacket complementing wide shoulders and a broad chest. His closely cropped haircut was freshly edged, and the meticulous line of his blueblack beard and mustache nicely highlighted his chiseled features, dark complexion, and light-colored eyes. A sumptuous shiver vibrated down the length of her spine.
Gabriel extended his hand to help her step out of the container, and when his hand touched hers, the contact took her breath away. Malisa felt herself gasp for air as he laughed warmly.
“So, now are you going to tell me why you're locked in this box?”
“Are you going to tell me who you are first?” she queried.
“Do you always answer a question with a question?”
“Your name?”
He chuckled heartily, “Gabriel Whitman.”
“Whitman?”
He nodded. “Yes, ma'am. And it's a pleasure to meet you, Malisa Ivey.”
Malisa could only imagine how red her face was, heat raging through her cheeks. Of all people to know of her predicament, why did it have to be the owner of the business she had hoped to impress.
“It's nice to meet you, too, Mr. Whitman.”
“Please, call me Gabriel. I think under the circumstances we should be on a first-name basis. So now are you going to tell me how you came to be delivered to my door on Christmas Eve in a box?”
Malisa sighed. She wrapped her arms around her torso, the gesture drawing attention to the fullness of her bustline. “I will, but it's cold out here and my mother is probably having a fit about where I am. Do you think I can use your telephone to call myself a ride? I don't have my purse or my cell phone on me.”
“I'll do you better than that,” Gabriel answered. “Come on. I'll give you a ride home.”
He gestured with his head for her to follow him. As he turned around and headed back inside the building, Malisa eyed him from head to toe and back again. She couldn't help but notice the fit of his denim jeans around an extraordinarily high behind that bubbled firm and hard and had her thinking about squeezing each cheek in the palms of her very small hands to see how they fit.
Her breath caught in her chest as she found herself imagining such a thing about a perfect stranger, and when Gabriel tossed her a look over his shoulder, she hoped her decadent thoughts weren't showing on her face.
She followed him back inside the building, watched as he secured the doors, then walked with him to the only car in the employee garage, a Range Rover.
Moving to the passenger side door, Gabriel opened it widely to allow her inside. As she settled her petite frame down against the leather seat, her gaze met his and held it. There was something in the look that he gave her that sent an obvious shiver down the length of her spine. Goose bumps rose like a raging rash on her arms, and she was grateful for the length of sleeve that hid her limbs from view.
Gabriel found himself strangely in awe of the young woman who had toned down her hostile banter. She had reined in her spirited personality, and nervous tension had risen like morning mist between them. He still had more questions than she was willing to give him answers for, but he was pleasantly intrigued by her mysterious air.
As he pulled on his seat belt and started the ignition, she reached to turn off his radio. He was amused by her boldness and said so. “Don't you know you're not supposed to mess with a man's radio?”
She laughed heartily. “Had a man not been blasting his radio, I wouldn't be here right now. Let's just say I am not in the mood for music.”
He nodded. “So are you going to tell me what happened?”
Malisa shook her head, the annoyance of her experience returning to her face. She blew a deep sigh. “I own the restaurant and bakery Sweet Tea and Grits. Your company hired me to do the cake for your New Year's Eve party. That box was the base that you are supposed to pop out of. I was testing it to make sure it worked and somehow got locked inside and delivered.”
Gabriel cut his eye at her. “You're telling me I'm supposed to fit inside that thing?”
“It's actually quite roomy for a very brief period of time, but definitely not roomy enough for someone to travel inside of, obviously. And of course the latch jammed.”
“I'm glad it jammed on you and not me.”
“Me, too, but I wish you hadn't found out about it.”
Gabriel laughed. “I can keep a secret if you can!” He smiled sweetly, meeting her stare a second time.
Malisa smiled back. “I appreciate that.”
“So, are you better at making cakes than you are boxes?”
She nodded, her smile widening. “My cakes are on point,” she said. “They're the best you will ever taste.”
“I'm going to hold you to that,” he said.
“What's your favorite flavor?” she questioned.
Gabriel thought for a quick moment. “I have a weakness for coconut and pineapple, if that helps.”
“I would have thought you'd be a chocolate or a caramel man,” Malisa teased.
He laughed. “Only my women need to be chocolate or caramel,” he said smugly.
Fighting back the temptation to ask about the women in his life, she found herself giggling as she gestured with her index finger for him to make the turn onto Elk Mountain Scenic Highway. “It's the house at the top of the incline,” she said, still pointing.
Pulling into the driveway, Gabriel came to a stop behind a long line of vehicles. The stone-and-woodsided structure was well lit, and it was obvious family and friends had already begun to celebrate the holiday.
“Well, this has been an interesting evening. I look forward to seeing what your final cake looks like,” Gabriel said, turning in his seat to face her.
“Please, come inside,” Malisa said. “I really appreciate your kindness, and there's a ton of food. I at least owe you dinner for rescuing me.”
He looked at his watch. He knew that it would be mere minutes before his ex-wife would be calling to ask where he was and why he wasn't home. But he wasn't ready to bid the beautiful woman good-bye.
“I don't want to intrude,” he said, the look on his face expressing what he really wanted to do with her.
Malisa was taken aback by the intense stare he was giving her. She found her breathing coming heavily, a knot tightening in her abdomen. She stammered, “It . . . no . . . it's . . . you . . . you wouldn't be intruding. My parents host an open house every year for their friends and family. People from the community come and go all evening long. Plus,” she said, daring to lift her eyes to his, “I owe you.”
The car's interior was suddenly heated. It was on the tip of Gabriel's tongue to tell her how he would have liked to be repaid, suddenly wanting to taste her, to kiss her mouth and discover how she felt in his arms.
Malisa felt moisture beginning to puddle in places it had no business being. She desperately needed to put some distance between her and that man, so she pushed her door open anxiously. “Come on in,” she said hurriedly, rushing out of the vehicle. Turning only briefly to ensure he was following, Malisa headed for the home's front door, Gabriel following not far behind her.

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