One Mistletoe Wish Page 21
Prez was a mouthwatering, gorgeous hunk of a man. His broad shoulders, muscular build and, she guessed, six-foot-two height were definitely enough to drive any woman crazy with lust when first laying eyes on him. Not to mention his infectious smile showcasing pearly white, immaculate teeth, smooth butterscotch skin and his silky, curly hair that she sometimes hated to admit that she would love to weave her fingers through. And then there were his lips. Succulent. Sexy. She’d never paid much attention to a man’s lips like this before, but there was something about the curve and subtle plumpness of them that made her want to draw them...with her tongue.
Blythe’s thoughts drifted to when she’d first met him a year ago at a paint party her new friend and now best friend had arranged for a family outing. Blythe was aware that Tiffani’s brother was the creator of the famous Dart and Drive video game that had amassed almost half a billion dollars, followed by more popular games. However, she expected a geeky, dorky, nerdy kind of guy with glasses, pants too short and a lisp, for some reason. Tiffani had mentioned that women practically threw themselves at her brother, but Blythe figured it was because he was worth millions. But when she entered the room to begin the party, she had to hold back a gulp and keep her gaze elsewhere. The man exuded a sexiness and confidence on a level that could break the Richter scale and a voice as smooth as caramel. It became worse when he’d roamed his eyes over her and started to flirt; however, she’d managed to remain composed and withstand the temptation to give in to him. His suave manner, good looks and intelligent charm could surely win over any woman’s heart, including hers if she wasn’t careful.
So why did Blythe keep blowing him off every time he flirted or paid her a compliment? Simple. She’d dated his type before. The player. The woman juggler. The pretty boy type that women sometimes fought over. Sure, he seemed like a nice guy. He loved his family, was overprotective of his sister and her son, KJ, and had a soft spot for the children at the hospital where he volunteered. He was an intellectual and even possessed a tad of nerdiness that she found sexy in a confident man like him. But none of that changed the fact that he was a notorious player.
Once the stations were completed, Blythe had about twenty minutes before the women’s group at a church not far from the studio was to arrive. Sighing, she contemplated either staying in the classroom and waiting or venturing back out into the lobby area to greet her class as she always did. A movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention as a chill ran through her body. She’d thought it was Preston. However, it was her receptionist, Ms. Bernice, standing in the doorway with her arms folded across her ample bosom. The sixty-year-old woman had a slight, curious smile displayed on her face, and her glasses hung down on her nose, her eyes peering over.
“Hey. Didn’t know you were here,” Blythe said, heading over to her work area and sliding a smock over her sweater.
“Just came back from my dinner break. I see you bought a tree. Did the handsome man come with it? Perhaps I need to go buy a few trees myself,” she teased, running her hands through her gray curls.
“Nooo. That’s Tiffani’s brother, Preston. He saw me struggling with it and offered to help bring it inside.”
Ms. Bernice slowly nodded her head. “Oh, I know who he is. I’m just surprised to see him here. You’re always brushing that fine young man off. If I was only thirty... I mean, twenty years younger...”
Blythe laughed. “Yeah, you’d be a part of his flock of women. No thank you.”
Ms. Bernice turned around to leave but pivoted back. “You only get played by a man if you allow him to do it. Your group is starting to arrive, but they’re chatting in the lobby and ogling Mr. Chase. Shall I send them back?”
“No need. I’ll be out in a moment. Just want to make sure everything is ready for them.”
Ms. Bernice’s stare perused the ten stations set up in the middle of the room. “Seems like everything is in place.” And with that, she finally left.
Moments later, Blythe headed to the lobby to find the lights on the tree and Preston chatting with two women while looking at a cell phone. I guess he’s getting their numbers, she thought as she nodded at him and then strolled to the lit Christmas tree. But she was mistaken. Instead, it seemed like he was showing them how to download one of his free video game apps to their phones. The ladies gave him a sexy, sultry thank-you and followed Ms. Bernice down the hall.
“Hey, whatcha think of my light hanging skills?” he inquired, standing next to her.
His masculine, woodsy cologne caressed her nose in an erotic, sensual way, and she stepped up to the tree to straighten a light that wasn’t crooked.
“You did a great job. Thank you so much.”
“You’re quite welcome. You know, I was thinking maybe we should have Christmas trees as a part of the Winter Wonderland.”
“That’s a great idea, but much taller than this one. Maybe each tree could have a color scheme or something like that.”
“Yeah. I know you don’t have much time to discuss details now, but my committee is meeting on Sunday evening. I know it’s short notice, and I understand if you can’t make it.”
“No. I’m off on Sundays, so that’s fine.”
“Cool.” Slipping his cell phone from his pocket, he punched the keypad on the screen and handed her the phone. “Just input your contact information and I’ll text you the address.”
Once finished, she handed him the phone. He eyed it, typed something and then placed it back into his pocket with a mischievous expression.
Sizing him up, she tapped her chin. “What did you type to make you look at me like that?”
Snickering, he scooped his leather jacket up from a nearby chair and slid it on. Preston stepped into her comfort zone, but this time she didn’t have to stifle a gulp. Blythe decided if she was going to work with him on his project, she’d have to keep him even more at bay than usual. She couldn’t let him know that his presence unraveled her.
“I added your name to your number,” he answered matter-of-factly. “That’s all. Why? You think I’m always in bad-boy mode?”
“Uh...no.”
Pushing open the door, a few more ladies passed through while running their eyes over him, but his own eyes never left Blythe’s face. “Relax, baby girl. I can be nice. I’m not always naughty. Well...unless that’s what you want.” He bestowed a wicked smile on her and exited.
Blythe remained rooted in the middle of the lobby, oblivious to her surroundings, as she watched Preston through the glass door. He strolled casually to his black two-door Aston Martin and sped off as if he knew she was watching.
When she finally made it back to her paint session, her thoughts drifted to the upcoming weeks working on the Winter Wonderland project. She hoped her interactions with him would be minimal. If not, she had a feeling Preston was going to be everything but nice.
Copyright © 2016 by Carmen S. Jones
ISBN-13: 9781488003806
One Mistletoe Wish
Copyright © 2016 by Artist Arthur
All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Har
lequin Books S.A.
® and ™ are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Intellectual Property Office and in other countries.
www.Harlequin.com