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…

latches on like a

his mouth over hers

and Scarlet… Kate and

They had nothing.

them, his face

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

nods slowly. He’s holding something in his other hand, turning it over and over in his fingers. “Marry

misheard him. “Sorry, what

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

I swallow hard.

He offers the ring to

around me, silence has fallen. Every face

can’t get enough

think about

light fades from his face. “Of course, you can.” He presses the ring into my palm, curling my fingers

for cheese and liqueurs?” It’s James voice, bright and cheerful. Gratefully, I turn to him. “Kirstie, what would

*****

it sounds forced. “I don’t see any new

picks at a fingernail. “Um, with everything that happened, I don’t think…” But she’s cut short by

“I thought we would come to that fairly soon. Charlotte, if you would like to release your death-grip on Cara for five minutes, Michael and I will show you your Christmas present. Your

Her forehead crinkles.

of us, Babe. Go put on some warm clothes. And

widen. “My

thick woollens, scarf and gloves and a warm jacket,”

“But Cara…”

arms. “I’ll take her,” she says. She grins too, impishly. “It will be good

“Aren’t you coming?”

a hand on Beth’s thigh. “I would

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