Rebecca Winters

Rags To Riches Collection


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the laughter. The belonging.

      Her eyes burned. She blinked hard and forced her chin up. ‘I want a hot date for the wedding. That way, no one will feel sorry for me.’ Not that she had any idea where to find a hot date, mind.

      ‘You want to look gorgeous. You want to be able to hold your head high, and you want a hunky man at your side.’

      She nodded.

      ‘None of those things are ignoble.’

      She glanced at him and swallowed. ‘I was going to say that the moment Diane saw me again I wanted her to worry that I could steal Brad away from her if I chose to, and that the moment Brad clapped eyes on me again he’d start to wonder if he’d chosen the wrong woman.’

      ‘But?’

      ‘But it’s not true. Not really. I just get irrationally angry sometimes.’ She glanced down at her hands. ‘I do actually hope their marriage is happy and strong. I wish them both well.’

      He sat back and stared. ‘The anger isn’t irrational.’

      A part of her agreed, but... ‘It comes out of the blue sometimes when I’m not expecting it. It’s so...bitter and unforgiving. I hate feeling like that.’

      ‘It’ll get easier with time.’

      She hoped so.

      He was silent for a while, then leant forward to rest his elbows on his knees. ‘How about you and I make a deal?’

      She raised her eyebrows. ‘A deal?’

      ‘I will help you get fit, and I’ll do what I can to aid your makeover plans...and I’ll also be your date for the wedding.’

      Her jaw dropped. He’d be her date? But... An immediate image of her friends’ surprise—Diane and Brad’s surprise—flooded her.

      ‘And in return...’

      She pressed a hand to her chest to counter its sudden and erratic pounding. ‘In return?’ Her voice had gone hoarse.

      ‘And in return you’ll help me make this Christmas and the holidays fabulous for Ella and Holly, and the rest of my family.’

      Her heart kept right on pounding. ‘Asking you to be my date, Cade, is too much.’

      ‘Do you have someone else in mind for the job?’

      ‘Well, no, but—’

      ‘Call it a Christmas bonus.’

      She wanted him as her date for that far-off wedding. His mere presence would fill her with confidence. Somewhere in the past week or so, his confidence and self-possession had become her blueprint for what she was working towards.

      She cocked her head. ‘Okay, be specific. Exactly how is my Christmas cheer supposed to manifest itself?’ She was getting a lot out of this deal. She needed to know she could deliver her side of the bargain.

      ‘Help me and the kids decorate the house. Sing Christmas carols. Help the kids write letters to Santa. Help Ella make gifts for the family. And...and take part in all the revelry, whatever form that takes—charades, telling Christmas stories, whatever. I want you to act like one of the family.’

      He would help with her makeover plan, plus he would be her date to the dreaded wedding, and all she had to do was be Christmassy? She imagined the expressions on Brad and Diane’s faces when she turned up at the wedding with Cade. She knew Diane so well. She knew exactly what Diane would think—hot, gorgeous hunk. Oh, yes, that would be very satisfying.

      Shallow, yes, but satisfying as well.

      To no longer be the object of all those furtive glances, those consoling pats on the arm, those ‘poor Nicola’ comments! Something inside her lifted.

      Was he serious—all she had to do was be Christmassy? She stuck out a hand before he could change his mind. ‘You have yourself a deal.’

      He closed his hand around hers. His grip was firm and she could feel the way he tempered his strength so as to not crush her fingers. He didn’t let go again immediately and her heart started up its silly pounding and erratic fluttering again.

      ‘Nicola...’

      Her name was a caress in the warm night air. Brad had never uttered her name like that. Her heart pounded louder, harder. ‘Yes?’

      ‘I know your confidence has taken a beating, and I respect the fact that you’d like to get fit, but as for your weight...and everything else, I don’t think you need to change a damn thing.’

      For a moment she actually believed he was sincere.

      Oh, Nicola Ann, the man’s a comedian!

      She flinched as she imagined her mother’s scornful laughter. She pulled her hand from his and leapt up, moving across to the nearest veranda post. She wrapped her hands around it. ‘Is that a way of saying you’ll help me with my makeover plan, but as you don’t think I need to change there’s nothing you need to actually do?’

      ‘Damn it, no!’

      He shot to his feet and strode across to her, gripping her chin in his hand to force her to meet his gaze. ‘You’re a hell of an infuriating woman, you know that?’

      Infuriating was better than pitiful.

      His face softened as he stared down at her. ‘Sorry,’ he murmured, his touch on her chin becoming gentle. ‘I shouldn’t have snapped.’

      ‘I...um...’ She swallowed. ‘I’m probably a touch sensitive,’ she allowed.

      ‘A person doesn’t bounce back just like that after the kind of blow you’ve suffered, Nicola. But you don’t need to change and eventually you’ll see I’m right.’

      She doubted that, but she couldn’t utter a single sound. Under his fingers her skin had leapt to life. His thumb traced the skin beneath her bottom lip. It made her drag in a breath that made her whole body tremble.

      ‘You have the most amazing eyes I have ever seen,’ he murmured.

      It wasn’t her eyes he was staring at, but her mouth. And he was staring at it as if he was hungry, as if he was starved. That gaze held her spellbound. It promptly cut off her mother’s disbelieving comments and hurtful contradictions. She should step away. She should flee. She knew that in some deep, dark recess of her mind, but her hand curled about the veranda post all the more tightly to anchor her into place.

      Cade had become the brightest star in the night and she wanted to bask in the glow of his warmth and his...desire. Even if for only ten seconds more.

      His free hand travelled down the post until he found her hand. He closed it around hers. He stepped in so close their chests touched. ‘You smell like strawberry jam.’

      She tried to ask him if that was a good thing, but her throat wouldn’t work. All that happened was her lips parted.

      And that he saw them part.

      And knew what it meant.

      His eyes glittered. His mouth took on a wolfish edge of satisfaction. He brushed his thumb over her bottom lip. She gasped and a low rumble of approval emerged from his chest.

      ‘Amazing eyes,’ he repeated. ‘Hair that shines in the starlight.’ His thumb stopped alternately tormenting and pleasing her lips as his hand drifted around the back of her neck to slide into the hair at the base of her skull. He tipped her head back so he could devour her face with his gaze, and she let him.

      He was going to kiss her. She knew he was going to kiss her. She hovered between breaths, waiting for it, waiting to welcome it...hungering for it.

      And from the glittering satisfaction in his eyes she could tell that he’d read that thought in her eyes—that she wanted it as much as he did, that there would be no argument or resistance.

      His mouth descended.