Lori Foster
Author Book List

White Knight Christmas By Lori Foster

Snowed Under By Erin McCarthy

Ms. Humbug By Jill Shalvis

I’ll Be Home For Christmas By Kathy Love

Seducing Scrooge By Katherine Garbera

The Good Girl’s Guide To A Very Bad Christmas By Kylie Adams

Excerpt

Chapter One

With the sluggish winter sun hanging low in the gray sky, Detective Parker Ross dragged himself out of his salt- andslush-covered car. Howling wind shoved against him, jerking the car door from his hand to slam it shut. His dress shoes slipped on the icy blacktop and he almost lost his footing. The frozen parking lot echoed his muttered curse.

Cautiously, he started forward, taking in the depressing sight of his apartment building. The landlord’s attempts at decorating had left bedraggled strands of colored lights haphazardly tossed over the barren, neglected bushes that served as landscaping. Some of the bulbs had blown, while others blinked in a drunken hiccup.

On the ground near the walkway, a dented plastic snowman lay on its side, half-covered in brownish slush, cigarette butts, and scraps of garbage.

Damn, but he’d be glad when the holidays passed and life returned to normal.

Slinging his soiled suit coat over his shoulder, his head down in exhaustion, Parker trudged along the treacherous, icy walkway. He didn’t have an overcoat with him because the last perp he’d tangled with had destroyed it. Weariness and disgust kept him from noting the frozen snowflakes that gathered on the back of his neck; after such a bitch of a day, even the frigid December weather couldn’t revive him.

A hot shower, some nuked food, and sleep—that’s all he needed, in that exact order. Once he hit the sheets, he intended to stay there for a good ten hours. He had the next week off, and he didn’t want to do anything more involved than camping on his couch and watching football.

God knew he deserved a rest. The past month of holiday- evoked lunacy and criminal desperation had left him little time for relaxation.

Parker saw Christmas as lavish, loud, and downright depressing. With his planned time off, he intended to hide out and avoid the nonsense.

Now, if he could just slip into his apartment without Lily Donaldson catching him . . .

Thinking of Lily sent a flood of warmth through his system, rejuvenating him in a way the frozen weather couldn’t. He was old enough to know better, but no matter how he tried, Lily tempted him. She also infuriated him.

She aroused his curiosity, and his tenderness.

She made him think, and she made him hot.

She had trouble written all over her. He wanted to be all over her.

In the ten months he’d known her, Lily had influenced his life far too often. Smart, kind, gentle. She carried food to Mrs. Harbinger when the old lady fell ill. She argued sound politics with fanatical Mr. Pitnosky. Both intelligent and astute, Lily smiled at everyone, never gossiped, and had a generous heart.

She loved Christmas, which rubbed him raw.

And she had a terrible case of hero worship. That was the hardest thing to deal with. Parker knew he didn’t possess a single ounce of heroism. If he did, then resisting her wouldn’t be so damn difficult.

In a hundred different ways, Lily made it clear she wanted to be more than friends. But her age made him wary, her enthusiasm scared him to death, and her love of a holiday he scorned showed they had little in common.

On top of all that, he had serious doubts about her occupation.

Yep, a conundrum for sure. Parker hated to think about it, yet he thought about it far too often. Not once had he ever noticed any work routine for Lily. Sure, she left her apartment, but not dressed for anything other than a real good time. Always made up. Always decked out, dressed for seduction.

Sometimes she left early, sometimes late.

Sometimes she stayed gone for days, and some days she never left the apartment at all. But that didn’t stop a steady stream of admirers from calling on her. The only reason Parker could tolerate that situation was because the guys seldom lasted more than a few hours, never more than a day.

Whatever Lily did to support herself, she sure as hell didn’t punch a time clock.

He’d tried asking her about her job a couple of times, but she always turned evasive and changed the subject, leaving Parker with few conclusions to draw.

He was a selfish bastard who refused to share, so even if the other roadblocks didn’t exist, no way could he let their friendship grow into intimacy.

That didn’t mean he could keep his mind off her. Throughout the awful day—hell, the awful month—thoughts of Lily made the hours more bearable. He imagined her sweet smile, the special one she saved for him. He imagined that deep admiration in her eyes whenever she looked at him.

He imagined her lush bod, minus the sexy clothes she wore.

Seeing her now would shove him right over the edge.

Avoiding her was the smart thing to do.

He planned to duck inside as fast as his drained body would allow. If she knocked, and he knew she would, he’d pretend he wasn’t home.

After rubbing his bloodshot eyes, he opened the entrance door to the apartment building and stepped inside. Whistling wind followed in his wake—and still he heard her husky voice, raised in ire.

Shit. With no way to reach his front door, Parker paused by the mailboxes and listened. Lily’s usually sweet voice held a sharp edge of annoyance. She probably had another smitten swain who didn’t want to take no for an answer.

Peering out the glass entrance doors, Parker considered a strategic retreat. Maybe he could drop by a bar and get a beer. Or visit his mother—no, scratch that. His mom would start trying to rope him in for a big family get-together, caroling, or God-knew-what-other holiday function.

Maybe he could . . .

Lily’s voice grew more insistent, and Parker’s protective instincts kicked in. Damn it, even if it fed her goofy misconceptions about him being heroic, he couldn’t let some bozo hassle her. Giving up on the idea of escape, Parker trod the steps to the second floor. Halfway up he saw her, and he forgot to breathe.

A soft white sweater hugged her breasts. Dangling, beaded earrings in a snowflake design brushed her shoulders. Soft jeans accentuated a deliciously rounded ass.

Previously spent body parts perked up in attention. Nothing new there. No matter what Parker’s brain tried to insist, his dick refused to pay attention.

Lily’s pale blonde hair, pinned up but with long tendrils teasing her nape and cheeks, gave the illusion that a lover had just finished with her. Heavily lashed brown eyes defied any innocence.

And her bare feet somehow made her look half-naked.

His heart picked up speed, sending needed blood flow into his lethargic muscles. Predictably enough, he went from exhausted to horny in a nanosecond.

Vibrating with annoyance, Lily stood just outside her apartment. A fresh, decorated wreath hung from her door, serving as a festive backdrop.

Lily loved the holiday. And he loathed it.

But for now, he couldn’t let that matter. Lily had a problem. She had a dispute.

She had... a guy on his knees?

Parker blinked in surprise at that. Lily’s confrontations always involved men. More specifically, they involved Lily rejecting men. But a begging guy?

That was a first.

Glued to his spot on the stairs, Parker stared, and listened.

“It was not a date, Clive. Not ever. No way. I made that clear.”

“But we had lunch,” Clive insisted, reaching out to grasp her knee. “Just the two of us.”

While stepping back, out of reach, Lily exclaimed, “I picked up the bill!”

Clive crawled after her. “But I would have.”

She slapped his hands away. “I didn’t let you—because it was not a date.”

“Lily,” he moaned. “I thought we had something special.”

“Tuna fish on rye is not special, Clive. Now get up.”

At her surly reply, Parker bit back a smile. Lily excelled in brokenhearted boyfriends, and this guy looked very brokenhearted. Poor schmuck.

As Clive obediently climbed to his feet, Parker looked at Lily—and met her gaze. The surprise in her brown eyes softened to pleasure; she gave him a silly, relieved smile— expecting him to heroically save the day.

And Parker supposed he would.

He’d taken one step toward her when good old Clive threw his arms around her. “I love you!”

“Oh, puh-lease.” Lily shoved against him, but Clive wouldn’t let go.

“I do,” he insisted. “Let me show you how much.”

Glancing toward Parker, Lily said, “Don’t be stupid, Clive. I know why you’re here.”

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