He was everything she despised in a man. So why couldn't she stay out of his arms?
This had to be the worst night of Sage Tyler's life. First her fiancé jilts her. Then she has to fly home with Harlan Boyd, the arrogant, drop-dead gorgeous stranger who overheard every word of that humiliating episode--and enjoyed it!
- Publisher: Penguin Random House Audio Publishing Gr
- Date: Dec 2010
From the book
Her lips were soft and inviting against his as she sighed, then whispered, "Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas to you, too, Sage."
Smiling, she folded her arms around his neck and placed her lips on his again, putting more passion into their kiss . . . or trying to. "Travis!"
"I mean, really kiss me," she said and growled sexily. "You're allowed to kiss sexy, you know, even though it is Christmas."
"Sage, please." Nervously the young man glanced toward the windows. A party was underway inside the house. "Somebody might see us."
She removed her arms from around his neck and blew out a gust of air. "Oh, for heaven's sake, Travis, you're so damn proper! Nobody is looking. And if anyone is, who would care if we're out here necking?"
"Mother would care. Do you like your bracelet?"
Temporarily distracted, she replied, "Of course I like the bracelet. What woman wouldn't? It's beautiful."
Raising her arm, she shook the heavy gold bangle around her wrist. "I'm glad you let me open my present tonight instead of waiting for Christmas Day."
"This way you can enjoy it over the whole holiday."
"That was very thoughtful of you. Thank you."
"I still sense that you're disappointed."
Sage Tyler looked up at him through her dense lashes and made a softly spoken confession. "I thought you might give me my engagement ring for Christmas."
Before he could say anything, she rushed on. "But it's not as though we've already picked out rings. Who knows? I might not even want a traditional engagement ring. I'll probably flaunt convention and choose something radically different. Maybe a colored stone instead of a diamond."
Travis cast his eyes down to the white leather pants she was wearing. Her sweater was appropriate enough--white angora with a tasteful amount of glittering studs and rhinestones sprinkled over the shoulders and upper bodice. The pants, however, were definitely a fashion risk.
He smiled weakly. "Nobody ever accused you of being conventional, Sage."
"Thank heaven for that." A movement of her head sent her mane of dark blond hair swinging over her shoulders. "I thought your mother was going to have heart failure when I came downstairs and joined the party wearing these pants."
"Well, she, uh, associates leather clothes with Hell's Angels and rock stars, I guess."
"Hmm. Maybe I should have worn something in a nice pastel taffeta."
He frowned in disapproval of her sarcasm. "Mother is Mother. She and her friends are more or less alike. They do the same things, go to the same places, wear basically the same kind of clothes. She's accustomed to certain things."
"If I'm going to be her daughter-in-law, she had better get accustomed to me, hadn't she? I hope she doesn't expect me to start wearing long plaid skirts and respectable navy flats when I become your wife. All I'll be changing the day we get married is my last name. Speaking of which," she added on a burst of inspiration, "Valentine's Day would be such a romantic date to get officially engaged. Even better than Christmas."
Sage had dragged Travis outside for a breath of fresh air on the long, wide veranda of the Belcher home. The redbrick Georgian structure was strung with twinkling Christmas lights. In the living room behind them, an enormous Christmas tree, arranged by a decorator who favored lace, pearls, and butterflies, commanded attention from one of the wide windows overlooking the veranda.
Three evergreens had been temporarily transplanted in the front lawn and decorated for the benefit of passersby who came...