Hot Revenge Box Set 2

Chapter 43

James returns with a tray, setting it on the table. “Who’s for coffee?”

Richard shudders. “Not for me James.”

“You can share mine,” offers Mitch, reaching for her teapot.

Richard scowls at the peppermint-scented steam.

James pours into a cup and saucer then offers it up. “Ryan?”

“Thank you, yes.” Ryan sips at the coffee then freezes, staring at the tablecloth. “Fuck me. Is this what he drinks?”

“’fraid so.”

He glares. “You could have warned me. It’s like fucking refrigerator coolant.”

Across the table, Mitch looks up to the mistletoe above the hearth. “Larry?”

“Yes?” He looks in the right general direction, but nothing registers in his expression.

Clueless…

She casts eyes upward again, this time definitely eye-pointing.

He shuffles in his seat. “Mitch, this isn't really...”

Mitch stands, placing herself squarely under the mistletoe, pats her lips with a forefinger. “I'm going to insist.”

Larry’s mouth works and a flush rises up his neck…

Way outside his comfort zone…

… nonetheless, he stands, loops an arm around the lovely woman and kisses her lightly on the lips…

she latches on like a

opens his mouth over hers in

kisses… Rhett and Scarlet…

They had nothing.

watches them,

table, I slip fingers into his. “It’s something special they have,

his other hand, turning it over and over in his fingers.

have misheard him. “Sorry, what

something. “Marry me.” In his outstretched hand is the ring from Mitch’s cracker. “I’ll get you a real one, but for

I swallow hard.

offers the ring

me, silence has fallen. Every

can’t get

I… think

face. “Of course, you can.” He presses the ring into my palm, curling my fingers around it. “I’m

him. “Kirstie, what would you like?” He holds up a bottle in either hand. “Brandy? Or port

*****

swishes brandy in his glass. “So, what has Santa brought you, Charlotte?” He speaks cheerfully, but it sounds forced. “I don’t see any new jewellery. I don’t smell perfume and you don’t have your nose stuck in a

don’t think…” But she’s cut short

Charlotte, if you would like to release your death-grip on Cara for five minutes,

Her forehead crinkles.

head. “It’s from all of us, Babe. Go put on

widen.

thick woollens, scarf and gloves and

“But Cara…”

arms. “I’ll take her,” she says. She grins too,

“Aren’t you coming?”

thigh. “I would prefer that Elizabeth

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