Her Christmas Eve Diamond

Her Christmas Eve Diamond
Scarlet Wilson

Dear Reader

Christmas is my absolute favourite time of year. I spend every Christmas Eve praying for some snow to fall and hoping we’ll get a white Christmas. I love putting up my Christmas tree, wrapping presents, watching Christmas films, and most of all I love to see Christmas-themed books on the shelves—so much so I begged my editor to let me write one!

Cassidy Rae is a bit like me. She counts the number of Christmas trees in the house windows on the way to work and thrives on the Christmas spirit. But Brad Donovan doesn’t share her enthusiasm. Christmas is a painful time of year for him, reminding him of what has slipped out of his grasp. He’s just managing to keep his head above water and is looking for a distraction—anything to keep his mind off Christmas. So what happens when the Christmas fairy meets the Grinch? Read on and see.

What I can guarantee you is that there will be snowflakes on Christmas Eve!

Merry Christmas!

Scarlet Wilson

PS I love hearing from readers. Come and visit my website: www.scarlet-wilson.com

Praise for Scarlet Wilson:

‘Stirring, emotional and wonderfully absorbing,

IT STARTED WITH A PREGNANCY is an

impressive debut novel from a fabulous new voice

in category romance: Scarlet Wilson!’

—www.cataromance.com on IT STARTED WITH A PREGNANCY

Her Christmas Eve Diamond

Scarlet Wilson

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

DEDICATION

This book is dedicated to the children

I’ve watched grow up over the years

from excitable toddlers into responsible adults.

Carissa Hyndman, Jordan Dickson, Dillon Glencross

and Carly Glencross. Life is what you make it—

reach for the stars!

And to my new editor Carly Byrne.

Thanks for all your support and encouragement.

Writing can be tricky business and you make it all

so much easier—I think we make a good team!

PROLOGUE

30 September

CASSIDY raised her hand and knocked on the dilapidated door. Behind her Lucy giggled nervously. ‘Are you sure this is the right address?’

Cassidy turned to stare at her. ‘You arranged this. How should I know?’ She glanced at the crumpled piece of paper in her hand. ‘This is definitely number seventeen.’ She leaned backwards, looking at the 1960s curtains hanging in the secondary glazed double windows that rattled every time a bus went past. ‘Maybe nobody’s home?’ she said hopefully.

This had to be the worst idea she’d ever had. No. Correction. It hadn’t been her idea. In a moment of weakness she’d just agreed to come along with her colleagues to see what all the fuss was about.

‘Where did you find this one, Lucy?’

Lucy had spent the past year whisking her friends off to as many different fortune-tellers as possible. By all accounts, some were good, some were bad and some were just downright scary. Cassidy had always managed to wriggle out of it—until now.

‘This is the one my cousin Fran came to. She said she was fab.’

Cassidy raised her eyebrows. ‘Cousin Fran who went on the reality TV show and then spent the next week hiding in the cupboard?’

Lucy nodded. ‘Oh, great,’ sighed Cass.

‘I wonder if she’ll tell me how many children I’ll have,’ murmured Lynn dreamily. She stuck her pointed elbow into Cassidy’s ribs. ‘She told Lizzie King she’d have twins and she’s due any day now.’

‘I just want to know if Frank is ever going to propose,’ sighed Tamsin. ‘If she doesn’t see it in the future then I’m dumping him. Five years is long enough.’

Cassidy screwed up her nose and shook her head. ‘You can’t dump Frank because of something a fortune-teller says.’

But Tamsin had that expression on her face—the one that said, Don’t mess with me. ‘Watch me.’

There was a shuffle behind the door then a creak and the door swung open. ‘Hello, ladies, come on in.’

Cassidy blinked. The smell of cats hit her in the face like a steamroller.

She allowed the stampede behind her to thunder inside then took a deep breath of clean outside air, before pulling the door closed behind her. A mangy-looking cat wound its way around her legs. ‘Shoo!’ she hissed.

‘Come on, Cassidy!’

She plastered a smile on her face and joined her colleagues in smelly-cat-woman’s front room. The peeling noise beneath the soles of her feet told her that the carpet was sticky. She dreaded to think what with.

Her three friends were crowded onto the brown sofa. Another cat was crawling across the back of the sofa behind their heads. Cassidy’s eyes started to stream and she resisted the temptation to start rubbing them. Once she started, she couldn’t stop. Cat allergies did that to you.

‘So who wants to go first?’

Cassidy glanced at her watch. How had she got roped into this?