The Nights Before Christmas. Vicki Thompson Lewis

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The Nights Before Christmas - Vicki Thompson Lewis


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       “Will I do?” Greg asked, joining her on the bed

      Suzanne studied him, and even in the pale light from the candles, he could see that her cheeks were rosy with excitement. “You’ll more than do,” she said in that smoky voice. Then her lips curved. “You’ll do…me.”

      Greg’s heart raced as he returned that saucy smile. “I sure will, sweetheart.” Then, giving her a questioning look, he picked up a strand of tinsel. “Only, you seem to be covered in silver….”

      “You wouldn’t let me put icicles on the tree, so—”

      “I like them much better here.” He captured several stands lying across the swell of her breast and drew them back and forth over her bare skin. Then he leaned down and ran his tongue along the edge of her bra.

      “That tickles.” Suzanne’s skin grew warm and flushed, and she began to quiver beneath him. “The icicles were a little joke,” she said breathlessly. “I didn’t realize it would feel like…this…when you took them off.”

      “It feels good, then?” he asked, picking icicles from her garter belt and dipping his tongue into her navel.

      “Only one thing could feel better,” she said, drawing him down to her. “And I can’t wait until Christmas to experience it….”

      Dear Reader,

      Don’t you love this time of year? Holiday spirits rise as temperatures dip (yes, even in Arizona) and we can find so many interesting ways to keep warm. I don’t know about you, but I think the words snuggle and cuddle were invented for nights like these. When the cold wind blows, you have a perfect excuse to lure that man of yours over to the fire, or under a goose-down comforter. After all, you wouldn’t want the poor guy to catch a chill.

      And once you have him where you want him, may I recommend a little Temptation Heat? I guarantee that the blaze created in these pages by Greg and Suzanne will warm him up faster than any snifter of brandy or cup of hot chocolate. As bedtime stores go, The Nights Before Christmas isn’t the sort to lull your sweetie to sleep. But that’s not the idea, now, is it?

      Happy Holiday Nights,

      The Nights Before Christmas

      Vicki Lewis Thompson

      

www.millsandboon.co.uk

      This book is dedicated to all the mothers and daughters, sisters and aunts who make the holidays happen. You deserve a nice, hot love story and a few hours to savor it. Take a break!

      Contents

      Chapter 1

      Chapter 2

      Chapter 3

      Chapter 4

      Chapter 5

      Chapter 6

      Chapter 7

      Chapter 8

      Chapter 9

      Chapter 10

      Chapter 11

      Chapter 12

      Chapter 13

      Chapter 14

      Chapter 15

      Chapter 16

      Epilogue

      1

      “SUZANNE, you need a rebound guy.” Terri Edwards took a swig from her water bottle without breaking stride on the treadmill next to Suzanne’s. She was in fabulous shape, which allowed her to converse normally.

      Suzanne definitely could not converse normally, and holding her water bottle was out of the question. She could barely stay upright on the relentless monster, let alone form sentences. “A…rebound…guy?” She’d never have guessed a treadmill could be such a challenge, or that weight-lifting machines could be so…heavy.

      The gym had looked impressive when she walked in, with its bright lights, cheery colors and the aroma of good honest sweat coming from dedicated folks wearing spandex and headbands. Besides, they’d had the cutest Christmas tree sitting on the sign-in desk. Suzanne had no idea where they’d found miniature barbells and jogging shoes for the decorations, but she’d been captivated. To top it off, her favorite Christmas song, “Carol of the Bells,” had poured from the sound system, right on cue.

      She’d taken it as a sign, and with Terri’s encouragement, she’d put her name and her Visa card on the dotted line. Joining a health club had seemed like a good idea an hour ago. Exercise lifted the spirits, or so she’d heard.

      “A rebound guy,” Terri repeated. “Great body, not into commitment, somebody you wouldn’t think of dating under normal circumstances. With a guy like that in your life for a few weeks, you’ll soon be over Jared.”

      “I am…over Jared.” She tripped and grabbed onto the rail for dear life. “I just…have…too much…free time.”

      Terri glanced at her. “You’re walking on a slant there, babe. Pretty soon you’ll be horizontal. Better get your feet under you.”

      “Right.” She gritted her teeth and scrambled to catch up with the moving belt. Then she went too far and had to backpedal so she wouldn’t fall on her butt.

      “Let’s take five.” Terri leaned over and turned off Suzanne’s treadmill.

      “Thank you.” Suzanne hung on the rail and panted as the sound system belted out “Jingle Bell Rock.” The unrelenting cheer was getting on her nerves. “Thank you for saving my life.” She gazed over at Terri. “Did I ever tell you I hate escalators, too? And those moving sidewalks at O’Hare give me hives. I’m not cut out for the gym, Terri. Nice thought, but I’m ready to retire my spandex and take up stamp collecting.”

      “Nonsense. It’s your first day. Besides, you’re already paid up for a year. Come on, we’ll get something at the juice bar and then take a turn on the stair-climbers.”

      The juice bar sounded excellent. A real honest-to-goodness bar sounded even better. Hot coffee laced with Baileys and she’d be a happy woman. She stepped off the treadmill with caution, but even so, the ground seemed to be moving when she tried to walk.

      “You forgot your water bottle and your towel.” Terri draped the towel around Suzanne’s neck and put the water bottle in her hand before guiding her over to a stool at the juice bar. “I guess you weren’t kidding when you said you’d never been in a gym before.”

      Suzanne shook her head. “Nope, wasn’t kidding.”

      “How do you keep from getting fat? No, don’t answer that. You’re one of those high-metabolism types I love to hate, and I don’t even want to hear about it.”

      “I guess.” Suzanne eased onto the stool. Her whole body still vibrated.

      “I ate two rum balls at the office Christmas party last night, and if I don’t put in an extra ten minutes on the stair-climbers, those rum balls will go straight to my hips.” Terri hopped on the stool next to Suzanne’s. “Get the mango-strawberry madness. It’s terrific.”

      Suzanne ordered the mango-strawberry madness, and discovered it wasn’t bad, but a Baileys and coffee would have been ten times better. She tried not to think of the money she’d shelled out for a year’s membership at this torture club. She planned to spend two days downstate with her mother over Christmas, which was three weeks away. She hadn’t been looking forward to the visit, but now it gave her a legitimate excuse to skip an evening at the gym.

      Terri patted her arm. “Don’t worry. You’ll get into the swing of it. And even if you don’t


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