Tessa Radley - Millionaire Under The Mistletoe

2009

Dear Reader,

Romance readers have a power that never fails to move me.

A dear friend of mine would catch the bus to work and home. To pass the time she read romances on the bus. Short romances that fit easily in her purse. It didnt take long to discover other romance readers. Soon several women were sharing the names of favorite authors and swapping books. A bus book reading club had been born.

One woman changed her bus after mistakenly catching an earlier bus one morning and discovered the group. Another was barely literate but wanted to read the books that her newfound friends were chatting about. Friendships were forged between women who would otherwise have remained strangers, sharing a daily commute and nothing else. Instead their lives were enriched by the joy of friendshipand the love in stories they discovered together.

Have a wonderful Christmas. And dont forget to share any great stories you discover over the festive season at the www.eHarlequin.com book challenge.

Tessa Radley

Callum halted at the threshold, his attention riveted on the woman pacing in front of the reception desk. The slanting rays from a lofty skylight caught her hair and turned it into a nimbus of glowing gold.

He took a step forward.

Callum Ironstone demanded my presence here at three oclock. She cocked her wrist and glanced at a serviceable watch. Its already ten past. How much longer does he intend to keep me cooling my heels? Her husky voice held an edge of impatience.

Callum stilled as her words penetrated. This was Miranda Owen?

Not possible.

His gaze tracked up from slender ankles encased in sheer black hose along the sleek lines of the narrow black, hip-hugging skirt. A black polo-neck sweater emphasized the indent of her waist and a saffron-colored coat hung over her arm.

Callum stared.

Digging deep into his memories produced an image of a plump teenager, more at home in a baggy sweatshirt, jeans and muddied yellow Wellingtons. The sunlit locks held no resemblance to the long, untidy ponytail. No doubt the braces were gone, too.

He cleared his throat.

She spun around. Wide caramel-brown eyes met his. His stomach tightened as he took in the lambent hostility.

One thing hadnt changed. Miranda Owen still blamed him for her fathers death.

Callum didnt let the knowledge show as he crossed the marble tiles, toasty from the state-of-the-art under-floor heating system. Miranda, thank you for coming in.

Callum.

That one snapped-out word hinted at long-held resentments.

He stretched out a hand. For a moment he thought she was going to refuse to take it. Then with a small sigh she relented.

Her fingers were strong, her grip firm, yet her skin was soft against his. Before he could come to terms with the interesting dichotomy of her touch, she pulled away.

Why did you want to see me?

A woman who got straight to the point-he liked that. Callum shook himself free of the bemusement that this grown-up Miranda evoked. Lets talk in my office. Would you like a cup of coffee?

A picture flickered across his mind of a three-year-younger Miranda spooning several teaspoons of sugar into a cup of hot chocolate at her fathers funeral.

No, thanks. Her reply was clipped.

He glanced across to the receptionist. Bring Ms. Owen a hot chocolate and Ill have coffee. Bring some extra sugar, he tacked on before placing his hand under Mirandas elbow and steering her along the corridor and into his spacious office.

Im not a child. She slanted him a look from beneath ridiculously long lashes, and a frisson of awareness startled Callum. And I no longer drink chocolate.

I can see youre not a child, Callum drawled, giving her a slow, sweeping perusal. Youve changed.

You havent. Miranda broke free of his hold and stepped away.

Still truculent. The heat of desire receded. Maybe Im mistaken, he mused. Id gotten the notion youd grown up.

Chagrin filled her face. Im sorry.

Callum doubted she regretted her lack of courtesy. Yet when her gaze met his again, he read apprehension in the wide eyes. What was she frightened about? Even as he watched, she straightened her spine and the moment of vulnerability vanished.

He waved to the two boxy leather sofas facing each other under an immense wooden bookshelf packed with books. A tall Christmas tree covered with red bows and silver balls reminded Callum that it was the season of reconciliation. But Mirandas frozen face warned him that reconciliation was the last thing on her mind. And how could he blame her? Feeling carefully for words, he said, Look, lets start over.

Ignoring him, Miranda passed the cozy seating arrangement heading for a round walnut conference table beside a wall of glass, where she slung her coat and black bag over the closest of the four chairs in a militant fashion.

Okay, so she was going to play this tough, all business. Callum gave a mental shrug and seated himself opposite her. I asked you to come in because I have a proposition for you.

A proposition? Confusion clouded her features. For me?

He rocked his chair back. Youre a chef, right? Hell, he knew she was-hed paid for every cent of her exclusive training. Though hed been surprised to learn shed used her qualifications to gain employment at a popular pub chain rather than some fashionable, up-market caf or boutique hotel. Before she could question how he knew she was a chef, he added, Adrian told me you work at one of The Golden Goose outlets.

Hed stopped to inquire how young Adrian was getting along as a temporary driver for the company. The young man had been grateful for the vacation job and had revealed that Miranda dreamed of one day starting her own catering business. That had given Callum the perfect solutiona way to wipe Miranda Owen from his conscience forever. He gave her his most charming grin.

Yes, she said guardedly.

She certainly wasnt blowing him away with an effusive response. Tipping his chair back to earth, he leaned forward and planted his elbows on the conference table. Heres the deal. I plan to invite the outgoing chairman of a company Ironstone Insurance has recently taken over to a private dinner party at my home on Saturday night.

Hell come?

Oh, yes. Gordons staying on as a shareholder and I want to introduce him to the other directors. Its a celebration.

The melting brown eyes hardened. I suppose that makes sense. Your brothers will want to get on side with a significant shareholder.

Callum stopped smiling. The merger had been his initiative-a successful one that would give Ironstone Insurance a strategic advantage over their competitors for years to come. And Gordon Harris had been even hungrier for the merger than the Ironstone family. Gordon wanted to retire, to take it easy. But Mirandas words stopped Callum from confessing that there was another, more celebratory reason for the dinner. That would only lead to a dig about protecting his assets.

Two fine lines furrowed her brow. When you say Saturdaydo you mean this week? At his nod the lines deepened. That doesnt leave much time.

Hed intended to railroad her into agreeingand not leave any time for second thoughts.

You dont think you can do it? he challenged.

Angry fire kindled in the caramel eyes. How many people?

Hiding a grin of triumph, Callum rose to his feet and retrieved a manila folder from the polished expanse of his desk. Returning to the conference table, he dropped the file in front of her. The details are all in there.