Carolyn Greene - Her Mistletoe Man

“Really?” Ruth said doubtfully. “I never heard of that tradition.”

“Neither did I,” he admitted. “I just made it up.”

He touched his mouth to hers then, the movement brief yet decisive. And more than a little pleasurable.

When their lips parted, she met his gaze. Her clear, golden-brown eyes appeared to be smiling, as if she had enjoyed the kiss as much as he had.

The first Christmas kiss under the mistletoe. As far as he was concerned, it was indeed a lucky kiss.

He lifted his head to thank his lucky stars—and the little green ball of leaves that dangled over their heads.

“Oops, I was mistaken,” he told her without a hint of remorse. “That’s not mistletoe…it’s holly.”

www.millsandboon.co.uk

To my agent, Ruth Kagle, who is beautiful on the inside as well as the outside. Thanks for believing in me.

Silhouette Romance

An Eligible Bachelor #1503

Her Mistletoe Man # 1556

Previously Published as Carolyn Monroe:

Silhouette Romance

Kiss of Bliss #847

A Lovin’ Spoonful #912

Help Wanted: Daddy #970

has been married to a fire chief for more than twenty years. She laughingly introduces herself as the one who lights the fires and her husband as the one who puts them out. They are a true opposites-attract type of couple and, because of this, they and their two teenagers have learned a lot about the art of compromise.

Coming together…mentally, physically and spiritually. That’s what romance is all about, and that’s what Carolyn strives to portray in her highly entertaining novels. Says Carolyn, “I like to think that after someone has read one of my books, I’ve made her or his day a little brighter. You just can’t put a price tag on that kind of job satisfaction.”

Prologue Prologue The flashing neon light from the sign outside Tucker Maddock’s Alexandria, Virginia, office window seemed to assault him in one-second intervals with its disgustingly cheery message. Merry Christmas. Merry Christmas. Merry Christmas. Yeah, right. He hadn’t had a merry Christmas since…well, there was no need rehashing all the losses he’d endured during what was supposed to be the happiest season of the year. The overtime work did little to ease the discomfort that gripped him lately. As a corporate executive, he was one of the best decision-makers in the business. His troubleshooting skills frequently attracted the attention of corporate headhunters who regularly approached him with employment offers at competing companies. He only wished he could clear away the troubles in his own life as effectively as he did on the job. Last year had dealt him the final and most difficult holiday blow when a Christmas Eve tragedy had taken the lives of Chris, his best friend, and Chris’s parents. They’d been like his own family. And now he missed them. Wanted to be close to them. Wanted to fill the aching, gaping hole in his spirit with their memory. Tucker stood and began clearing his desk. The flashing sign filled the semidarkened room with its alternating green-and-red eerie glow. The light seemed to pulsate within him, filling his mind and soul with its unwanted message. Filling his heart with an insatiable urge to be with the loving family who had opened their hearts and home to him. The heck with this. If he couldn’t be with them, he could at least return to the place that held their memory. Tucker dashed off a note to his secretary, then opened a drawer and swept his forearm across the surface of the desk, effectively clearing it of papers, folders and scribbled notes. He would sort them out when he got back. But right now, he couldn’t bring himself to open another card, smile at another caroler or wallow in the home-and-hearth happiness that was supposed to pervade the season. If he didn’t get away from all the tinsel and glitter and glad tidings in the city, he was going to go crazy. And at times like this, he’d found it was best to follow his heart…follow it back home to Willow Glen.

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Epilogue

The flashing neon light from the sign outside Tucker Maddock’s Alexandria, Virginia, office window seemed to assault him in one-second intervals with its disgustingly cheery message.

Merry Christmas. Merry Christmas. Merry Christmas.

Yeah, right. He hadn’t had a merry Christmas since…well, there was no need rehashing all the losses he’d endured during what was supposed to be the happiest season of the year. The overtime work did little to ease the discomfort that gripped him lately. As a corporate executive, he was one of the best decision-makers in the business. His troubleshooting skills frequently attracted the attention of corporate headhunters who regularly approached him with employment offers at competing companies. He only wished he could clear away the troubles in his own life as effectively as he did on the job.

Last year had dealt him the final and most difficult holiday blow when a Christmas Eve tragedy had taken the lives of Chris, his best friend, and Chris’s parents. They’d been like his own family. And now he missed them. Wanted to be close to them. Wanted to fill the aching, gaping hole in his spirit with their memory.

Tucker stood and began clearing his desk. The flashing sign filled the semidarkened room with its alternating green-and-red eerie glow. The light seemed to pulsate within him, filling his mind and soul with its unwanted message. Filling his heart with an insatiable urge to be with the loving family who had opened their hearts and home to him.

The heck with this. If he couldn’t be with them, he could at least return to the place that held their memory. Tucker dashed off a note to his secretary, then opened a drawer and swept his forearm across the surface of the desk, effectively clearing it of papers, folders and scribbled notes. He would sort them out when he got back. But right now, he couldn’t bring himself to open another card, smile at another caroler or wallow in the home-and-hearth happiness that was supposed to pervade the season.

If he didn’t get away from all the tinsel and glitter and glad tidings in the city, he was going to go crazy. And at times like this, he’d found it was best to follow his heart…follow it back home to Willow Glen.

He’d have to sleep somewhere. It might as well be here.

Willow Glen Plantation had seemed like a mansion to him the first time he had visited the massive house. It still impressed him with its sprawling front lawn, welcoming circular driveway, broad veranda, cheerful turrets and dormer windows. After spending the happiest times of his life here from age ten until college, Tucker had been devastated when Chris’s parents sold the place shortly after he and his friend went off to college. Will Carlton, the county’s antiques dealer, had done some minor remodeling on the home and turned it into a charming bed-and-breakfast inn.

An elderly gentleman, apparently just returning home from a Christmas shopping excursion, went in ahead of him and held the door for Tucker to follow him.

“If I were you, son, I wouldn’t wait out here too long. Dinner will be served soon, and believe me, you don’t want to miss it.”

Inside, garlands and running cedar were strewn from every conceivable surface: the front desk, the mahogany banister rail that led upstairs, even the chandelier that hung from the parlor ceiling.

Although modern fixtures and a front desk, complete with an antique cash register, had been added, the place hadn’t changed much over the years. It even smelled the same, like cranberries and pine and…what was that other smell? Tucker set his duffel bag down beside the curved-wood desk and closed his eyes while he inhaled the scent. In his mind, he could almost see Chris and Mr. and Mrs. Newland. He’d spent so much time in this house, sleeping here more than he’d slept at home, that he had become part of the family—so much a member of the family, in fact, that the elder Newlands had assigned him chores to perform. One Saturday a month, he and Chris were handed soft rags and a bottle of furniture polish to rub on the furniture, the banister and any other exposed wood, which constituted almost half the house.

He opened his eyes. That was the scent. Furniture polish. Maybe even the same brand.

An older woman, possibly more ancient than the gentleman who’d preceded him in, approached them. “Oren, dear,” she said, addressing the other guest, “it’s so good to see you again.” She kissed his cheek, leaving a peach lip print on the gray stubble. Nodding toward the parlor where a group of guests had gathered, she added, “Your wife has been anxiously waiting for you.”

The old man picked up his shopping bag and moved to join his wife.

Must be a regular, Tucker thought. The lady of the lip prints fixed her attention on him, scrutinizing him from head to toe and back again. “Well, aren’t you a fine-looking young man. I’m Aunt Shirley,” she declared.

That was a strange way to greet a guest, but he attributed the overfamiliarity to her advanced age. He gave her a warm smile. “Tucker Maddock, ma’am. I was hoping you’d have room at the inn for one more.”

Aunt Shirley opened her mouth and laughed, the infectious sound attracting the attention of the people in the parlor. “He wants to know if we have room at the inn,” she told them. They seemed to find it funny as well and laughed among themselves. One woman, a dark-haired beauty who appeared to be in her mid-twenties, caught his eye as she sat threading popcorn onto a string. Apparently feeling the heat of his perusal, she looked up. As they gazed openly at each other, Tucker felt the room grow suddenly warmer. He loosened the collar of his jacket.

A teenage girl followed the brunette’s gaze and peered around the arched doorway at him. When she caught a glimpse of him, she blushed and drew back.

The brunette seemed to be studying him curiously from her overstuffed chair, as if he looked familiar to her but she couldn’t place his face. But Tucker was sure they’d never met. If they had, he most certainly would have remembered her.

Her legs were drawn up beneath her in the chair. Long, slim limbs encased in charcoal-gray fabric that coordinated with the bulky gray-green top that seemed to swallow her small features. Her dark hair spilled in disarray over the plush material, bringing to mind an image of her cuddled in bed under piles of blankets.

Her brown eyes slanted downward at the outer edges, making her look as though she’d just awakened from a long, luxurious sleep, and her lips seemed to be made for kissing.

Tucker involuntarily drew the back of his hand across his mouth.

She watched his idle gesture and her chin came forward, causing her pale pink mouth to pucker invitingly.

Ruth pushed a wild and wavy strand of hair away from her face. She’d been working hard to make this—possibly their last— Christmas family reunion the best one ever. And this latest arrival, though unexpected, certainly promised to make it one of their most interesting family gatherings. The way the stranger’s gaze roamed over her made her feel almost intoxicated. She tried to still the crazy inner stirrings that made her feel decidedly light-headed.