Page 329 of The Christmas Wife

Whispers – Invadable Harmony

Fallen Angel – TIX

SUN SIGNS

Edward Chase - Scorpio

You are deep, emotional, and loyal.

You are single-minded in achieving your goals.

You can be painfully honest and obvious in your intentions.

You can be mistrustful, possessive, controlling and jealous.

You are aggressive when looking for vengeance.

Mirabelle 'Mira' Young - Pisces

You are a hopeless romantic.

You are kind, intuitive, and very giving.

You experience intense emotions in the heat of the moment.

You are creative and imaginative.

You have a big heart and respect honesty.

1

Claim your free prequel to this book HERE

Mira

"You’re with child?" I yelp, then flush when everyone at my friend Gio’s wedding turns to stare at me. We’re at the bookshop her husband gifted her, because that’s where Gio wanted to hold the ceremony. And the brew of choice? Coffee. Also, there are cupcakes, because what else do you need when you’re a smuthead getting married in your favorite space? Talk about marriage goals. Tiny, the Great Dane, who’s currently being dog-sat by one of Gio’s friends, parks himself next to me. He looks at me with melting eyes, and I swear, he has the only sympathetic gaze in the house.

I tighten my grip on the mug of coffee in my hand, flash a smile at Gio, and say, "I mean,you’re going to have a baby!" I take a step forward and stumble across Tiny’s flag-like tail.Oof!The cup goes flying from my hand, and the contents spill over aman standing nearby. The cup bounces off his chest and hits the ground, then spins away.

"What the—?" He glances down at the coffee stain he’s wearing across the front of the tailor-made jacket which, by the way, molds his shoulders while his pants cling to his powerful thighs.

My heart stutters. My pulse booms at my temples. I draw in a sharp breath, and under the bitter whiff of coffee is the sharp tang of something more complex, something spicy and savory and so laced with that tingle of electricity, it arrows straight to my center. My toes curl, and goosebumps pepper my skin. I glance up and into his face, and tawny-brown eyes blaze at me. The anger in them cuts through the noise in my head. I flinch, take in the mess that was once what I'm relatively certain is his ten-thousand dollar three-piece suit. I should know the price; it’s the world of privilege I come from, too. Which indicates he can afford another with ease. But to see the loathing in his features, you’d think otherwise. I manage to get a hold of myself and gasp, "Oh god, I’m so sorry."

I remove the scarf from around my neck and dab at his suit lapel, then at his thigh then—stay away from his crotch. Not his crotch—I brush my scarf over the impressive packet between his legs. His thigh muscles bunch. Anger vibrates off of his big body, and I flinch, retrieving my arm.

"Am I always such a klutz? I’m not. Do I often ask questions of myself aloud and reply to them? Only when I’m nervous." I chuckle, making sure to keep my eyes averted. "What comes first, though? Being nervous leads me to being a klutz? Or does being a klutz make me nervous? Or maybe one leads to the other in an endless feedback loop." I nod. "Yep, that’s what happened. Which is why I tripped over Tiny’s tail. But Tiny didn’t mean to cause the accident, did you?" I look down at Tiny.

The dog woofs, then head-butts me. The momentum causes me to tumble forward. The man catches me around the waist. I look up, and this time, when our gazes meet, gold fire sparks in his eyes. A lick of fire, a whip of mahogany, a sheen of amber—all polished to a burnished, searing flame that could burn you on contact. The air between us seems to ignite, drawing in all the oxygen in the room. I try to breathe, but my lungs protest. I sway, and his hold on my waist tightens. His jaw hardens. The sharp contours of his cheekbones lend a stark, almost cruel quality to his features. I’ve never met this man before, but I’ve heard about him from Gio. Edward, that’s his name, and he’s a former priest. He walked away from the church and embraced a life in pursuit of money—or so I heard from the girls—not that I tend to gossip. Okay, maybe a little.

When you don’t have a choice in your future, you take pleasure in the little things in life. And gossip happens to be one of those treats I refuse to deprive myself of. Besides, I want to know why he walked away from what was, surely, his calling. It takes strength of conviction to become a priest, but to then leave it behind? Why would he do that? On that count, my girlfriends were mum. It's his story to tell, they said. Which led me to speculate, it had to have been because of a woman. Did he break up with the church to be with her? Though, from what I’ve heard, he's single. So, does he still think of her? And why is my mind racing at a million miles an hour? Why are my palms sweating, my stomach twisting and turning? Why is my heart banging into my chest like thunder crackling across the skies before a storm?

A heavy weight pins me in place. I can’t move. Can’t speak. Caught up in the tractor beam of this man’s gaze, I’m a butterfly trapped in a bell jar. Then Tiny woofs, and both of us jump back from each other.

"Sorry, sorry, oh my god, I am so sorry." I wave my hands in the air. "And I sound like I'm a broken record, stuck on repeat. You do know what I mean by a record, right?" I peer up at him. "Of course, you do." I take in the threads of grey at his temple. "You’re older than me—not dinosaur age, but close to it. I mean you’re not Santa Claus old. No way I’d mistake you for him though, given your build is much more streamlined. Not to mention, your whiskers are jet black. Although, this time of the year is the most wonderful time, don’t you think?" I beam at him because…Who doesn’t love Christmas?

"I hate Christmas," he snaps.

This guy, apparently.Just my luck. Of all the men I could have spilled my coffee on, it had to be the grumpiest, growliest, meanest…sexiest looking man I’ve ever met.

---