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Christmas Eve Wedding. Penny JordanЧитать онлайн книгу.

Christmas Eve Wedding - Penny Jordan


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which he held in trust, and as a further complication his mother had put emotional pressure on him to take on the role of the business financial adviser, following the completion of his Masters in Business Studies, claiming that if he didn’t she would never be able to believe he had forgiven her for his childhood.

      Rather than become involved in painful wrangling Caid had given in, and of course the family had insisted that he further his role as financial adviser on their proposed purchase of the English store his mother was so keen to acquire—to add to the portfolio of highly individual and specialised stores already operating in Boston, Aspen and New Orleans.

      Unlike the rest of his mother’s family, Caid’s first love was the land, the ranch he had bought for himself and was steadily building up, financed by the money he earned as a much sought-after financial consultant.

      But he had come to New Orleans, protesting all the way like a roped steer, and thank heavens his mother had persevered, insisted on his presence. Because if she hadn’t…

      The sexy smile curling his mouth deepened as Jaz opened her eyes.

      ‘Mmm, that sure was another wonderful night we spent together, ma’am,’ he teased her softly.

      As he had known she would, Jaz started to blush. It fascinated him, this delicate English colour of hers that betrayed her every emotion, and made him feel he wanted to wrap her up and protect her.

      ‘You’d better go,’ Jaz told him unsteadily. ‘You know we both agreed that we wanted to keep this…us…to ourselves for now, and my godfather will be expecting me to have breakfast with him. Your mother has arranged for us to visit her warehouse this morning.’

      Jaz gave a small soft gasp as Caid leaned forward and covered her mouth with his own, kissing her into silence, and from silence into sweetly hot fresh desire.

      ‘Are you sure you want me to leave?’ he asked, breathing the words against the sensitivity of her passionately kissed mouth whilst his hand pushed aside the bedclothes to mould round her breast.

      As she struggled to keep her head and behave sensibly Jaz breathed in the intoxicating warm man-scent of Caid’s skin and knew she was fighting a lost cause.

      Much better simply to give in, she acknowledged giddily as Caid started to kiss her again, gathering her up in his arms and rolling her swiftly beneath him.

      ‘Oh!’ Just the feel of his naked flesh against her own was enough to prompt Jaz’s soft betraying gasp, swiftly followed by a second and much more drawn out murmur of female pleasure as Caid made his intentions—and his hungry desire for her—very clear.

      In terms of days they had known each other for very little time, but in terms of longing and love it felt to Jaz that they had known one another for ever.

      ‘A month ago I never dreamed that I’d be doing anything like this,’ she gasped as Caid’s hand stroked her body.

      ‘I should hope you didn’t,’ he growled mock-angrily.

      ‘After all, a month ago we hadn’t met.’

      Immediately Jaz’s eyes filmed with tears.

      ‘Hon…What is it? What’s wrong? What did I say?’ Caid demanded urgently, cupping her face with his hands, his expression turning from one of amusement to anxious male concern.

      ‘Nothing,’ Jaz assured him. ‘It’s just that…Oh, Caid…If I hadn’t come to New Orleans—! If we hadn’t met—! If…I hadn’t known…’

      ‘You did come to New Orleans. We did meet, and you do know. We both know,’ Caid emphasised rawly. ‘I know, Jaz, that we were made to be together, that you are perfect for me. Perfect,’ he repeated meaningfully, glancing down the length of her body and then looking deep into her eyes.

      Jaz could feel her toes curling as she looked at him. The way she felt about him still totally bemused and awed her. She had never thought of herself as the kind of woman who fell head over heels in love at first sight, who behaved so rashly that nothing would have stopped her sharing Caid’s bed or his life once he had told her how much he wanted her there.

      It still made her feel giddy with happiness to know that Caid, who was surely the epitome of everything she had ever imagined she could possibly want in a man, had fallen in love with her. Caid was exactly the kind of man she had always secretly hoped she might meet: sophisticated, virile, sexy. A man who shared her world, who understood how important it was for her to be able to give free rein to her artistic nature; a man whose background meant that he would know instinctively why she preferred to stroke the sensual silkiness of rich velvet than to rub down the hindquarters of a horse. And why she could spend hours, days, wandering in delight through an art gallery, whilst the delights of a cattle market left her cold.

      ‘Will you be joining us this morning?’ Jaz asked him.

      Caid shook his head and Jaz tried to conceal her disappointment. As excited as she was at the thought of seeing behind the scenes of the store, so to speak, she knew it would have been an even more wonderfully fulfilling experience if Caid had been there with her.

      She knew that his mother had overall control of all the buying for the stores, and that she travelled the world seeking out new and different merchandise to tempt their discerning customers, but it was through Caid’s eyes that she wanted to see the Aladdin’s cave she suspected the warehouse would be—in Caid’s presence that she wanted to explore a part of the world he had made it clear they were going to share.

      ‘We can meet up this afternoon at the house,’ Caid said once they were both dressed. ‘You and I have talking to do and plans to make,’ he told her meaningfully.

      ‘Uncle John and I are flying home tomorrow,’ Jaz reminded him.

      ‘Exactly,’ Caid acknowledged. ‘Which is all the more reason for you and I to make those plans.’

      CHAPTER TWO

      JAZ smiled excitedly as she hurried towards the luxurious house in the centre of the French Quarter of New Orleans, where Caid was staying for the duration of his visit.

      He had given her his spare key to the house the same night he had declared his love for her—a week to the day after they had first met—and now, as she turned it gently in the lock and opened the door to step inside the house’s hallway, Jaz wondered how on earth she was going to cope tomorrow morning when she was due to fly home—without him!

      Already, secretly, she had fantasised about the life they would live together—the children she hoped they would one day have. A boy, a miniature Caid, patterned on his father, and a girl, to fill the home they would share. Suddenly it struck her that she did not know where Caid’s permanent home actually was!

      Not that it mattered, she assured herself. After all, she knew all the really important things about him…Like the fact that he slept on his right-hand side and that he was such a light sleeper that if she so much as brushed the lightest of kisses against his skin he was immediately awake—even if on one occasion he had fooled her into thinking he wasn’t, and she had betrayed herself, giving in to her female longing to relish the secret intimacy and pleasure of touching and exploring him whilst he slept.

      Hastily Jaz dragged her thoughts onto more mundane things. She knew that Caid had been to college in Boston, where his family also had a store, and that his work as a financial consultant required a certain amount of travel.

      ‘Fortunately I can work from any base, so long as I have a computer,’ he had told her, adding jokingly, ‘And my own plane.’

      Did ‘anywhere’ mean that he was thinking of basing himself in her hometown, Cheltenham?

      Or did he have somewhere else in mind? Jaz had been thrilled when his mother had sought her out privately to tell her how much she admired her work.

      ‘It could well be that there are opportunities for you to branch out rather more after the takeover,’ she had told Jaz, excitingly. ‘Would you be interested?


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