Under the Mistletoe

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Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)

1 (#ub9b12f0c-4326-52d8-b963-1c62d4251ac0)

PENNY DEVLIN HAD decided that she was giving herself an early Christmas present this year. A vacation from her life. Actually, making herself not read another email her former boss and ex-lover sent her was the best gift she could ever really give herself.

He’d made a mockery of her dreams of a white knight and cost her a job she loved. Rat bastard.

But really, who would keep working for a man like him?

Not her. Mentally she gave herself a pat on the back. She’d made the tough but right choice to leave her position as an event planner at Papillion Clothiers, and this place was her reward.

A ski chalet to herself for fifteen days at the luxurious Lars Usten Lodge in Park City, Utah. Her phone pinged again. She groaned as another text appeared on her screen from Butch—or actually from the label she’d assigned him.

JerkButtFace: Stop being a baby. I need to talk to you.

Penny: All my files are in my former office. You don’t need me.

JerkButtFace: Not about work.

Penny: All we had was work.

JerkButtFace: Stop acting like I did something wrong. This is the 21st century.

Penny: Jerk is the same now as it’s always been.

JerkButtFace: Name calling? You must still care.

As if. He was so frustrating. She didn’t care, and was coming to realize she hadn’t ever really loved him. That was the worst part.

Her phone pinged again.

That’s it!

She flung open the front door of her very lovely, secluded alpine cabin, stopped to admire the gently falling snow and then chucked her cell phone out the front door.

“Hey!”

She glanced up just in time to see a man batting away her cell phone before it fell to the ground. She’d almost hit him in the face.

And what a face. A strong, square jaw with just the right hint of stubble, firm masculine lips curled in a sort of sneer, and bright, Chris Pine–blue eyes. He wore a heavy shearling jacket and a pair of faded blue jeans that clung to his thick, muscular thighs. His boots were covered in snow, and as she let her gaze travel back up his body, she forgot why she’d been so fuming mad just a second earlier.

“Sorry. I’m so sorry! I just couldn’t take my phone one more second.” She knew that sounded totally lame, but it was the only thing she could think of other than: Yowza! Hot guy alert!

He chuckled. The sound was deep and rich and echoed in the silent snow-covered land around them. It was cold, and the air seeped through the fabric of her chic lounge sweater, but she wasn’t tempted at all to go back inside.

Full disclosure? This guy was the perfect distraction. He held a leather suitcase in one hand and a brochure from the Lodge in the other, so she assumed he had to be a guest. She glanced at his left hand to see if he was single, but he wore leather gloves. Plus some married men didn’t wear their rings all the time. “I’ve been tempted to ditch my phone more than once,” he said with a smile. “What seems to be the problem?”

“Problem?”

“I’m assuming part of the technology isn’t working,” he said.

He sounded logical and normal. All the things she just didn’t feel right now. And he was cute. Really, really cute. So if she played her cards right, perhaps she’d be able to salvage this and flirt with him. She wanted to. Needed to reclaim a part of herself she’d lost when she’d learned the horrible truth from Butch. No denying it.

“Um...it wasn’t picking up the Wi-Fi,” Penny stammered, making up the very first thing that came to mind.

He bent over to pick up her phone. Seeing him holding her pink, jewel-studded case in his manly hands made her feel funny. But when he glanced over at her with those piercing blue eyes of his again, she still couldn’t help but stare back. This time she noticed he had sun lines around his face. He spent a good deal of time outdoors, she figured.

“Mind if I give it a try?” he asked.

“Sure,” she said. He was a really good-looking man with his thick brown hair styled to one side so just a swoop of it fell over his forehead. No way could his hair be as soft as it looked, but she wanted to touch it and find out.

He glanced at her screen and then back at her.

“It seems to be working. You’ve got a text from... JerkButtFace. Apparently, he’s desperate to explain.”

She groaned. When he said it, the name sounded...well, still funny to her.

Of course, even though Butch was married and his wife was pregnant with their child—something he’d failed to mention when they first met or at any point during their six months together—he still expected her to be his girlfriend. Something that she definitely didn’t want to hear him try to justify again.

And he’d still managed to wriggle his way between Penny and the first attractive man she’d met in months. Ugh.

“I know. He’s like a broken record.”

“I take it you’ve heard enough?” the man asked wryly.

“You’ve got that right. But watch out, I seem to be a moron magnet,” she said, moving out of her doorway to approach the man. Her UGG boots protected her against the snowy path as she did so.

He smiled at her and shook his head as he handed her phone to her. She put it in the pocket of her long lounge sweater.

“Will Spalding,” he said, holding out his hand.

“Penelope Devlin.” She took his hand to shake it. She worked in the business world and probably shook hands at least three times a day with potential clients, so she was used to weak ones and even clammy ones.

But his hand was smooth and dry as he enfolded her fingers in his, and the grip was firm, but sort of gentle, too. He looked to be in his early thirties, close to her own age. She stared at their joined hands for a moment as a tingle spread up her arm. She pulled hers back and then looked up at him again.

“You are a very interesting woman,” he murmured.

She was not sure how to take that. “Not really. I get very boring once you get to know me.”

“I highly doubt that,” he said. Her phone beeped from her pocket and he raised one eyebrow.