"Richly Satisfying Romance Filled with Shivering Intensity"
Reviewed by Diana Troldahl
Posted October 5, 2012
Holiday | Romance Contemporary
Evie Dunn has been a widow for ten years, missing her
husband yet fully satisfied with her life, running her bed
and breakfast, raising her son and teaching art to those
interested. All that changes when she picks up the younger
brother of her future sister in law. Something about him
has
her realizing for the first time in years that she is a
woman, with all parts still in working order. Anything more
than meaningless sex (and she doesn't DO meaningless sex)
is
out of the question, no matter what her hormones are
demanding. She lost her Gordon to a risky volunteer rescue
mission and the last thing she wants is to start any kind
of
relationship with a Los Angeles Fire Fighter like Scott
Jones, especially one so many years younger. Her emotional
hibernation has been a safe place to dwell, too bad it is
starting to feel more like a prison.
Scott is happy to visit Australia again, near the town
where
his father grew up. Not only to see his big sister married
off and celebrate Christmas with his family but to gain
some
perspective on the recent loss of his friend Mike who died
in the line of duty. The rules are there for a reason and
as
a leader he did his best to make certain all those on his
watch followed them, but perhaps there was something more
he
should have done. The lovely, fascinating woman who picked
him up at the airport could provide an enjoyable
distraction. Too bad moments after meeting it becomes clear
she is not the type of woman who would enjoy an encounter
simply for the encounter's sake.
MARRIAGE UNDER THE MISTLETOE is a richly satisfying
romance,
set in a beautiful part of the world among characters you
long to know. The story-line is mature and complex with
lots
of steamy intensity leading up to the love Evie and Scott
both attempt to deny. The book had some of the most
sensual love scenes I've read, filled with shivering
intensity and ratcheting up the passionate tension. Helen Lacey has written another of her solid, wonderful
love
stories. Her website's tagline is "Romance From the Heart"
and that says it all.
SUMMARY
Strong. Sensible. Dependable. That was Evie Dunn's type.
Certainly not young, fearless gorgeous firefighter Scott
Jones. She knew the wisest course was to keep her
distance, but she couldn't resist the allure of a holiday
fling. Now the widowed single mom found herself with an
unexpected post-Christmas gift—she was having Scott's
baby! Scott came to Crystal Point to see his sister
tie the knot, not fall for the alluring owner of the
town's oceanfront B and B. He knew he was all wrong for
Evie, but he would do anything to win her heart and build
the family he'd always wanted. All he had to do was
persuade Evie to take the biggest risk of her life…on love.
ExcerptEvie Dunn pushed her feet from under the uncomfortable
airport seat and let out a long sigh. Two hours of waiting
in the arrivals terminal had stretched her patience. And
she'd never liked airports all that much. There were too
many people leaving, too many sad faces, too many goodbyes.She looked at the cardboard sign in her hand and traced
the outline of letters with her forefinger. Her
soon–to–be sister–in–law's kid
brother was on the twelve o'clock out of Los Angeles via
Sydney, and she'd agreed to pick him up. Because that's
what Evie did. She picked up, she dropped off.
Rock–solid Evie. Ever–reliable Evie.
Boring–as–oatmeal Evie.
Not true. She made the correction immediately. She
wasn't boring. She was dependable and responsible. Nothing
wrong with that. Nothing at all. And today she was acting
true to form after agreeing to make the four–hour
road trip from Crystal Point to Brisbane and back again.
If Evie's nephew hadn't fallen from his bike and broke
his arm, Callie would have been doing this. I wish Callie
was here now.
She liked who she was. Most of the time. When the
twinges came—those niggling little voices telling
her to break out, to take a risk, to be wild and
unpredictable for once in her life—she pushed them
back to where they belonged. Which was not in her world.
She had a business to run and a teenage son to raise.
Taking risks wasn't on her horizon.
Passengers filed out of the gate, some greeting friends
and family, some walked on alone. Evie stood up and held
the sign out in front of her. As the parade of people
dwindled, a tall, brown–haired man caught her
attention. He moved with a confident lope, as though he
was in no hurry, like a man with all the time in the
world. And he looked a little familiar. Were they the same
blue eyes as Callie's? He wore khaki cargo pants belted
low on his hips, a black T–shirt and he had an
army–style duffel bag flung over one shoulder. He
was broad, toned and gorgeous.
This is no kid brother.
His pace slowed and his eyes scanned the crowd, clearly
looking for someone. He met her eyes. He looked at the
sign, then Evie, then back to the sign. Seconds later he
smiled. A killer smile that radiated through to the soles
of her feet. He stopped a couple of meters in front of her
and looked her over. A long, leisurely look that made her
toes curl. For one ridiculous moment she wished she'd paid
more attention to her appearance that morning.
""Hey, I guess you're my ride?""
The soft, deeply resonant American drawl struck her low
in the belly. She stuck out her hand. ""Hi,"" she said,
aware her voice sounded unusually high pitched. ""I'm
Evie—Noah's sister.""
His hand was big and easily wrapped around
hers. ""Scott,"" he said. ""Nice to meet you.""
Scott Jones aka The Most Gorgeous Man She Had Ever Laid
Eyes On.
And about a generation too young for a
thirty–six–year–old woman.
She cleaved her dry tongue from the roof of her
mouth. ""Did you have a good flight?""
""Reasonable. I had a three–hour stopover in
Sydney after getting through customs.""
Evie ignored the rapid pump of her heart behind her
ribs. ""You can sleep some on the drive back if you like.""
He shrugged lightly. ""I appreciate the lift.""
""No problem.""
""I guess I should collect my luggage."" She
nodded. ""Sure. But first I think I should see your
identification?""
""Huh?""
Evie squared her shoulders. ""I need to make sure
you're who you say you are,"" she said, ever cautious,
always responsible.
He smiled and exposed the most amazing dimple in his
cheek. ""Okay,"" he said, and reached into his back pocket.
Evie didn't miss the way his biceps flexed as he moved.
He pulled his passport out and handed it to her. She read
his name—Scott Augustus Jones—and wasn't
surprised to see he was photogenic, too. Evie returned the
document to him.
He smiled again. ""Do you want to frisk me now?""
Evie nearly burst a blood vessel. ""I don't.. I don't
think so,"" she spluttered, feeling embarrassed and
foolish. He was joking, of course. However, out of nowhere
came the idea of running her hands across that chest and
those thighs, and it made her hot all over. ""Let's go to
baggage claim.""
He continued to smile and followed her down the
escalators and she became increasingly aware of him behind
her. And mindful of how dowdy and plain she must look to
him in her faded denim skirt and biscuit–colored
blouse. She smoothed her hands down her hips and tilted
her chin.
It took about three minutes to find his bag and another
five to reach her car. She was glad she'd borrowed her
brother's dual–cab utility vehicle instead of
driving her own small sedan. She couldn't imagine Scott
Jones spending lengthy hours cramped up in her zippy
Honda. Not with those long, powerful legs, broad
shoulders, strong arms...
She sucked in a breath. Get a grip. And fast.
It had been forever since she'd really thought about a
man in such a way. Oh, there'd been the odd inkling or an
occasional vague and random thought. Mostly memories of
the husband she'd loved and lost. But that was all. Acting
on those thoughts was out of the question. She was a widow
and mother, after all.
Ten years. The words swirled around in her head. An
entire decade of abstinence. That would almost give me a
free pass into a convent.
She looked at him again, as briefly as she could
without appearing obvious.
Young came to mind immediately. And Callie's brother.
And only here for three weeks. And not my type.
Gordon had been her type. Strong and sensible. Her
first and only love. They'd been happy together. But
dealing with his senseless death had been hard. After
that, she buried herself along with her husband. Buried
the part of her that screamed woman and got on with living.
Or so she thought.
""Thank you for the ride.""
Evie didn't budge her eyes and drove from the car
park. ""You said that already.""
He shifted in his seat and stretched his legs. ""So,
what happened to the kid?""
""Matthew fell off his bike two days ago and broke his
arm. He's out of hospital, but Callie didn't want to leave
him.""
Evie admired her brother's fiancée. Callie had embraced
her role as mother to Noah's four children and had quickly
become the tonic the family needed. When
four–year–old Matthew had his accident, Evie
had quickly stepped in to taxi Callie's brother from
Brisbane to Crystal Point. With her wedding only weeks
away, the home she was selling in the middle of
renovations and Matthew needing attention, Callie had
enough on her plate without having to worry about her
younger brother being stranded at the airport.
Only, Evie hadn't expected him to look like this.
And she hadn't expected her skin to feel just that
little bit more alive, or her breath to sound as if it
couldn't quite get out of her throat quick enough. Okay,
so that only proves that I still have a pulse.
""So,"" she said, way more cheerfully than she
felt, ""what do you do for a living?""
He looked sideways. ""I work for the Los Angeles Fire
Department.""
Evie's heart stilled. A firefighter? A hazardous
occupation. Exactly what she needed to throw a bucket of
cold water over her resurfacing libido. ""That's a
dangerous job?""
""It can be.""
Evie's curiosity soared. Ask the question. ""So why do
you do it?""
""Someone has to, don't you think?""
""I guess."" He had a point. But it didn't stop her
thinking about the risks. She'd had years of practice
thinking about risks, about dangers. A decade of thinking.
Since the rainy night Gordon had donned his Volunteer
Emergency Services jacket and left her with the promise to
return, but never did. An awful night long ago. The night
she'd shut down. She wondered about Scott's motives. ""But
why do you do it? Are you an adrenaline junkie?""
He chuckled. It was such an incredibly sexy sound that
Evie's cheeks flamed.
""I'm sure my mom and sister think so.""
""But you don't?""
""I do it because it's my job. Because it's what I'm
trained to do. I don't think about the reasons why. Do you
sit down and analyze why you're doing what you do?""
No. Because a shut–down person didn't question
herself. A shut–down person was all about control,
the now. But she didn't admit that. It was better to sound
like everyone else. ""Sometimes.""
""What exactly do you do?""
""I run a bed–and–breakfast.""
He nodded. ""Yeah, I think Callie told me that. And
you've got a kid?""
""Trevor,"" she replied. ""He's fifteen.""
Although she remained focused on the road, Evie felt
his surprised stare.
""You must have married young.""
Evie pushed her hair from her face. ""By some
standards, I suppose. I was nineteen.""
She could almost hear him do the math in his head and
felt about one hundred years old. While he, she knew, was
just twenty–seven.
She pushed the CD button on, waited for music to fill
the cab and resisted the urge to sing along.
""Do you want to share the driving?""
Evie looked sideways. ""We drive on the other side of
the road.""
""I have an international license.""
Of course he did. He was young, gorgeous, fearless and
accomplished. ""I'll let you know.""
He didn't say anything for a while and relief pitched
in her chest, although she felt the nearness of him
through to her blood. What was it about men who looked
like Scott Jones that made some women discard their usual
good sense and want to jump their bones? But not her. Evie
wasn't about to make a fool of herself over a great body
and an incredible smile.
She c...
What do you think about this review?
Comments
No comments posted.
Registered users may leave comments.
Log in or register now!
|
© 2003-2024 off-the-edge.net
all rights reserved Privacy Policy