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Authors: Doris O'Connor

Bought for Christmas

BOOK: Bought for Christmas
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Evernight
Publishing ®

 

www.evernightpublishing.com

 

 

 

Copyright© 2014 Doris O’Connor

 

 

 
ISBN: 978-1-77233-144-8

 

Cover
Artist: Jay
Aheer

 

Editor:
Karyn
White

 

 

 

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

 

 

WARNING: The
unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is
illegal.
 
No part of this book may be
used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission,
except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

 

This is a
work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any
resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or
dead, is entirely coincidental.

 

 

 

DEDICATION

 

To The
RavDor
Chicks, the awesome reader group I share with my
partner in crime Raven
McAllan
. You were behind this
story from the minute this hero first whispered in my ear, so thank you all.

And a
special thank you to my Gran, who instilled in me the belief that
anything
is possible at Christmas time...

 

BOUGHT FOR
CHRISTMAS

 

 

Doris O’Connor

 

Copyright © 2014

 

 

 

Chapter One

 

Emilia
stopped at the top of the stairs and sighed when she heard the raised voices.
So much for the season of goodwill.
With a week left to
Christmas none of that was present in her father’s house. Papa and Leo were
arguing again. That’s all they ever seemed to do these days, and, yet, still
Papa favored her twin.

God
only knew what Leo had done now, but words like
ruin, it’s all over,
and
well, she
can
finally do something useful
sent
a shiver of unease down her spine.

Sure
enough the door opened to reveal a flustered looking Leo. With his blond hair
stylishly falling over his blue eyes, and the permanent tan due to their
father’s Mediterranean heritage, he had the rakish good looks that meant he was
never short of female company. Too bad he was a chauvinistic ass with
it—another trait he had inherited from Papa.

Christmas
is just a week away. You can smile and put up with it for a week. It’s what
Mama would have wanted.

Emilia
repeated the mantra in her head, as she slowly descended the mahogany carved
staircase and fixed a smile on her face.
One that wasn’t
returned by her brother.
No, Leo looked downright furious, his
complexion ruddy and his eyes glassy as though he was drunk, or high—maybe even
both.

He
sneered when he saw her staring, and Emilia squashed the impulse that made her
want to reach out to him.
To help, to make him see that he
couldn’t go on like this, but she couldn’t take another rejection.

“There
you are, thunder thighs. Papa wants you.”

The
old insult stung, especially as Emilia was the slimmest she had ever been.
Well, as slim as she would ever get. Leo was the one who had inherited the
skinny gene from their mother.
 
Annalisa
had been tall and willow-like and so beautiful it still hurt to look at her
picture. Especially considering the frail cancer riddled woman they had buried
a mere two years ago. Emilia blinked back tears and wondered when Christmas
would get easier. Would she ever get back the joy she used to feel at this
magical time? Even when Emilia had become a fully grown woman Mama had always
made the season seem special, as though this truly was the time for miracles.

One
was sorely needed this Christmas, if the state of Leo was anything to go by.

“Don’t
just stand there gawping at me. Go see Papa, thunder thighs.”

Emilia
took a deep breath, and somehow managed to keep her cool. “If I told you once,
I told you a thousand times, do
not
call me that.”

Leo
shrugged and almost fell over as the action made him overbalance. “I’ll call it
the way I see it. Not exactly model material are you, little sis.”

Emilia
crunched her teeth and resisted the urge to lash back at him. Besides he had a
point. Unfortunately for Emilia she took after their father’s side of the
family, where the women were on the cuddly side. Emilia had long since come to
terms with her body shape, but hearing Leo be extra spiteful took her right
back to that painful time when she’d stopped growing taller and had started to
grow curves instead.
Curves that had kept on growing.
Still, something was eating at Leo. Even he wasn’t normally this cruel.

Before
she could say or do anything else the doorbell chimed, and their father
appeared out of his study, clutching a decanter of brandy in his large hands,
and Emilia suppressed another sigh. It was barely afternoon, and he was already
drinking. He took another large swig when the bell rang again, and then he glared
up at Emilia.

“Don’t
just stand there. Make yourself useful, and answer the door. It was your idea
to give Jenny the day off after all.”

“It’s
Christmas, Papa. The woman needs to do her shopping some time.” Their trusty
old housekeeper had been delighted when Emilia had given her several days off,
reassuring Jenny that they would manage just fine.

“I’m
perfectly capable of looking after the house and cooking some meals. There’s
only the three of us, after all,” she’d said.

Her
father pulled a face as though he was sucking on a particularly sour lemon, and
gestured to the door.

“Go
and answer it. He’s here for you anyway.
Time to earn your
keep, girl.”

Again
that shiver of dread threatened to steal her breath, but she had learnt long
ago to never show any weakness in front of her father. He didn’t appreciate it,
and the cruel streak Mama had tempered when she was alive had only become
stronger at her passing. With as much grace as she could muster Emilia walked
across the foyer and swallowed nervously at the imposing shadow she could see
through the frosted glass.

The
man stood on the other side of the door was huge, and when she opened it her
greeting stuck in her throat.

She
would recognize those broad shoulders and wide back anywhere. Even covered by
the expensive tailor-made woolen coat he wore against the chill of this
December afternoon, his muscled physique made her feel small and oh so
feminine.

Hunter
Monahan inhaled sharply and then turned around slowly. Emilia took an
involuntary step back when the harsh porch lighting illuminated the scars on
his face briefly. His features tightened when he witnessed her reaction, and he
turned slightly until only his good side was presented. His mouth kicked up in
a grim smile, and his deep voice washed over her.

“I
wasn’t expecting to see you so soon, Emilia. When did you come home?” he asked.


Erm
,
yesterday, Sir.”
 
She whispered the answer, feeling ridiculously
tongue-tied like she always did around him, but frightening scars
notwithstanding, there was something so earthy and virile about Hunter.
Dangerous even, and as if to prove it, his amber eyes flared to yellow as he
bent down and inhaled next to her ear.

“I
do like it when you call me that, kitten.”
 
His hot breath skimmed across the sensitive skin under her ear, and
Emilia bit her lip to stop herself from reacting to his presence.
 
This close to him his intoxicating scent
wrapped itself around her like a warm cocoon, and she had to fight the urge to
lean in closer.

The
Beast, as he was known, would not appreciate the contact she was sure, so
instead, she stepped back to allow him to pass, and took his coat when he
shrugged out of it.

He
frowned at her, and she offered him a tentative smile, and after a moment’s
hesitation he handed it to her. Their hands touched briefly, and Emilia almost
dropped the garment. Her fingertips tingled from the contact, and she hastily
yanked the coat up higher to hide her nipples. Like wanton beacons of her
sex-starved self, they firmed and pushed against her silk blouse. Emilia wanted
the ground to swallow her up when Hunter’s gaze rested on her boobs for several
heart-stopping moments.

He
couldn’t have noticed, could he? It was bad enough that Emilia turned into a
simpering wreck whenever her father’s former friend was around. It was
altogether far too mortifying that he would actually notice her lusting after
him.

Quite
apart from the fact that Hunter was only seven years younger than her father,
the man was way out of her league. Reserved to the point of rudeness, Hunter
carried himself with an air of leashed power and aggression that separated him
from his peers.

As
a child, Emilia had spun fairy stories about him as the scarred warrior, or the
gentle beast, who needed the love of a good woman to break the witch’s curse.
As a teenager those dreams had taken on a rather erotic turn. Moving away to go
to university had done nothing to lessen her attraction to the man, quite the
opposite.

Not
for lack of trying on her part, but none of her so-called boyfriends had ever
made her skin tingle with just one look, and besides they only wanted her for
her father’s money. When they found out that Leo was Papa’s only heir, they
always scarpered, which was fine by Emilia.

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