Mistletoe Cinderella. Tanya MichaelsЧитать онлайн книгу.
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A mere week ago, Chloe had been chiding herself to start seizing the day
To take risks and reap the rewards. Now here she was, practically in the arms of the most alluring man she’d ever known. All it would take was a step forward…. She stretched up to press her lips to his, although she might have lost her nerve if he hadn’t leaned down to meet her.
After one stunned second of paralysis, she closed her eyes and gave herself up to the moment, the once-in-a-lifetime chance to live out cherished fantasies. Wrapping her hand around his neck, she stood on tiptoe and kissed him, dizzy with sensation.
Carpe Dylan.
Dear Reader,
Have you ever wanted to be someone else, just for a day? That’s the premise I started with for Mistletoe Cinderella and the character of Chloe Malcolm. She’s brilliant, gifted with computers and has a wry sense of humor (once you get to know her). But back in high school she wasn’t the kind of girl who could catch the eye of baseball star Dylan Echols.
Ten years later, at her high school reunion, Chloe shows up with a makeover courtesy of her fairy godmoth—Er, best friend. Dylan notices her, all right, but confuses her with somebody else entirely. When midnight strikes, will she turn back into plain old Chloe?
My mom, who has a great sense of humor, raised me on funny, romantic films of mistaken identity like Doris Day’s Lover Come Back and the more recent While You Were Sleeping. I hope you enjoy Mistletoe Cinderella as much as I’ve always enjoyed those charming, feel-good movies! And I hope you’ll watch for the summer installment of my 4 SEASONS IN MISTLETOE miniseries, Mistletoe Mommy.
Happy reading!
Tanya Michaels
Mistletoe Cinderella
Tanya Michaels
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Tanya Michaels started telling stories almost as soon as she could talk…and started stealing her mom’s Harlequin romances less than a decade later. In 2003 Tanya was thrilled to have her first book, a romantic comedy, published by Harlequin Books. Since then, Tanya has written nearly twenty books and is a two-time recipient of the Booksellers’ Best Award as well as a finalist for the Holt Medallion, National Readers’ Choice Award and Romance Writers of America’s prestigious RITA® Award. Tanya lives in Georgia with her husband, two preschoolers and an unpredictable cat, but you can visit Tanya online at www.tanyamichaels.com.
This book is dedicated to all of you
wonderful readers who e-mailed to ask,
“Will there be more Mistletoe stories?” Enjoy!
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter One
It was a bad sign when you were feeling envious of the person in the casket.
Chloe Malcolm winced at her own thoughts, which were highly inappropriate and completely out of character. Chloe was always appropriate; it was one of the things Aunt Jane had teased her about. Swallowing a knot of emotion, Chloe smiled at her aunt’s peaceful face. As far as Chloe knew, Jane Walters had never once in her sixty-three years worried about decorum. It was that free-spiritedness Chloe envied.
Aunt Jane had appalled Chloe’s parents by nicknaming her niece “Wheezy,” making the childhood asthma Chloe later outgrew seem like more of an in-joke than a handicap. I’m going to miss you. Jane hadn’t spent much time here in Mistletoe—too busy running with the bulls in Pamplona or, more recently, hot-air ballooning over Flagstaff—but each of her visits had been memorable.
“How are you holding up?”
Chloe turned to see blond and beautiful Natalie Young, her best friend and manager of the town’s flower shop. “Okay. I know she wouldn’t have any regrets and wouldn’t want any of us moping. She was just so full of life that it’s hard to believe…”
“Yeah. She was a force all her own.” Natalie grinned. “I’m amazed at some of the stories I’ve heard this afternoon, but I guess you grew up with them.”
Not exactly. Chloe’s parents had loved Jane, but they hadn’t minded her keeping a geographical distance from their impressionable daughter and had deemed some of Jane’s exploits unfit for young ears.
Back in the sixties, Aunt Jane had shocked her own parents and her older sister when she’d eloped with a local boy who’d left shortly after for Vietnam. When he’d come back, he’d been unable to assimilate to small-town Georgia life; he and Jane had restlessly roamed the country for the remainder of their marriage, part of which she’d spent dancing in a Vegas show and perfecting her blackjack skills. Chloe’s mother, Rose, had commented more than once that her younger sister had the devil’s own luck. She’d said it with neither jealousy nor censure, but worry. Fear that Jane’s exuberant, outrageous ways would catch up to her one day.
But Chloe believed Jane left this world exactly as she would have wanted—after a day of parasailing in the Caribbean and a romantic evening with a forty-nine-year-old divorced tax attorney, she’d died of a blood clot in her sleep. Jane had dated a wide range of men in the past two decades, never lacking companionship. She’d aged beautifully, like Helen Mirren or Diane Keaton. Still, Chloe thought that what really attracted admirers was her aunt’s confidence and verve—two qualities Chloe lacked, except when it came to computers.
During Chloe’s teen years, Jane had insisted her niece was simply a “late bloomer.” At twenty-seven, Chloe had resigned herself to the fact that she was as bloomed as she was going to get.
Trying to push away vague pangs that she might have let her aunt down, Chloe redirected her attention to Natalie. “The arrangements are beautiful, by the way. I’m sorry I didn’t say so earlier.”
“Thanks.” The blonde pursed her lips. “You don’t think the flowers seem too formal? I filled people’s orders, but I feel like Jane would have preferred sunflowers or daisies. Something bright or funky. The remembrance wreath and spray of roses are a little at odds with…everything else.”
“Like the music and the open bar? I thought Mama would have a conniption.”
Jane’s final wishes had been well-documented with her lawyer, right down to the slide show and five-song sound track for the memorial. It had been designed to follow Jane’s life, ending a few minutes ago with “Spirit in the Sky.” But it was the earlier “It’s Raining Men” that seemed to have left an impression on guests. Jane Walters hadn’t wanted a funeral; she’d wanted a party at which the people she’d known could celebrate her life. If she’d picked out Chloe’s attire for the service, it probably would have been the flowered sarong Jane had once sent her niece from Maui. Instead, Chloe had paired a lightweight blouse with her navy skirt, her only touches of whimsy the polka-dotted yellow headband holding back her long dark hair and pomegranate-flavored lip gloss.
“Speaking of your mother.” Natalie looked around. “Is she doing all right?”
“Hard to say.” Chloe’s parents, aside from making sure their only child knew how adored she