When Simi finds a pretty old candlestick among the discarded props in the company storeroom, she never imagines it will grant her dearest wish. There’s something mysterious about the carved candlestick, but Simi is drawn to it. She’s saved a red candle from a box she bought years ago in an antique shop, and intends to use the candlestick to hold the last candle and make her solitary Christmas lunch more festive. It’s Christmas Eve, there’s sleet in the wind, Simi slips, but Jason catches her. Who is Jason? Where has he suddenly appeared from in the night?
Simi looks into the eyes of this gorgeous man and sparks fly …
Erotic fantasy romance from Siren Publishing and Elodie Parkes
The biting wind penetrated Simi’s coat as she teetered along on her black spike heels. Their sharp click on the sidewalk was the only human-associated sound other than her occasional sigh in the dark night. She pulled her hands from her pockets and crossed her arms over her body to shield herself a little. Not far to go. There was rain in the wind now and it felt like ice as the splatter hit her face. The weather forecast had been for snow. The sky was leaden with something unshed, and Simi quickened her pace as not snow or rain, but sleet started to fall.
Her shoulder bag bumped against her hip as she walked and Simi wondered if she should have left the bulky item behind at work until after the holidays, but the gift it contained from Kris Kringle was the only one she’d get to open on Christmas morning. She could have left the candlestick, but then again, she’d so liked it. Her last red candle would fit and make her solitary Christmas lunch more festive.
Another sigh escaped her. Not for the first time that day, she wished she had a boyfriend, someone who loved her. He would have helped me clear up, poor Carl would have gone home earlier, and we would have made it to the last subway train that came out this far on Christmas Eve. I wish I had a gorgeous, kind, gentle, sexy man. I wish…the huge clock on the deserted town hall startled her with the first resonant chime of twelve. Midnight. So it’s Christmas day and I’m going to spend it alone, again.
Simi hurried on past the huge fir tree decorated with bright white fairy lights. The seventh chime of twelve echoed out. A car suddenly sped by, sending a spray of icy water up onto the sidewalk and drenching her calves. The shock made her falter. One of her spike heels caught between pavers that had cracked in the summer. Simi fell as the heel broke off from the shoe and the last stroke of midnight faded away.
She didn’t reach the cold, hard pavers.
Two strong male hands grasped her waist, lifted her, and set her on her feet. A deep, attractive voice asked, “Are you okay?—You’re not. You’re freezing and your shoe is broken. Let me help you. I’m here for you.” He held her shoulders, taking some of her weight as Simi limped to face her rescuer.
She looked up and into the eyes of a gorgeous man. Strands of his thick dark hair glistened in the light, thrown off by the strings of fairy lights threaded through the branches of the trees lining this part of the sidewalk. The sleet lent a sheen to these strands and lit him up as if he, too, was a Christmas decoration. Simi gazed at him. She drank in the perfect features of his face. Her eyes dipped to take in his obviously muscled body under his clothes. His overcoat hung open over a black suit. He wore a gleaming white shirt and a black bow tie. He’s perfect.
“I’m fine, thank you,” her voice scratched out.
He gave her a look just short of amused, but definitely disbelieving.
“I know otherwise. Please, it’s Christmas. Let me be here for you.”
The sincerity in his voice soothed her. Trepidation left her, replaced by hope. Bizarre, considering he could be a murderer. She hopped a step.
The gorgeous man stooped and pulled the heel from the paver crack. He grinned at her mischievously and put it in his pocket.
Simi let her shoulder bag dangle from her arm and tried to walk with one foot five-and-a-half inches higher than the other.
The delicious man held her arm gently. He took her bag and slung it over his shoulder.
“I’ll carry that. Put your arm around my waist and lean on me.” He slipped his arm around her shoulders.
She did as he asked. His hard body under her arm comforted her. Simi tried another step. It was still a limp, but suddenly amused, she laughed. She looked up into his handsome face.
“If I’m going to be hanging onto you, I should know your name.”
“Jason. My name’s Jason, and you’re…?”
Simi was lost in the sound of his voice and the flow of delicious tingles down her body as his arm tightened around her. She whispered, “Simi.”
He smiled, his eyes alight with emotion. “That’s a beautiful name. A lovely, soft name for a beautiful girl.”
Copyright Elodie Parkes, Siren Publishing