Reclusive Millionaire's Mistletoe Miracle by Michelle Douglas

Author:Michelle Douglas
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2022-08-16T21:36:16+00:00

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHLOE HUDDLED INTO the extra warm scarf Beau had loaned her. She’d wound it around her neck twice and it still covered her from chin to chest, the tails of the scarf angling beneath her coat to cover her breasts. The thought of chests and breasts, though, had her recalling the broad, lean strength of Beau’s chest under her hands earlier. And when he’d touched her breasts...

Her lungs cramped and it was hard to breathe. Closing her eyes, she did what she could to unclench herself.

Thank God he’d given her time to think.

Thank God he’d kept his wits about him.

If he hadn’t they’d have made love and... She swallowed. It would’ve been a mistake.

Are you sure about that?

Of course she was! It—

She bit back a groan. She ached with need. She wanted Beau so badly it had become a physical pain and she couldn’t think of anything else. Didn’t want to think of anything else.

She ought to be thinking about Mark!

Why? some inner demon demanded.

She choked on her glühwein. He’d been her husband. She’d loved him!

Had been. Had loved. Past tense, Chlo.

For the first time, rather than tear her apart, that realisation simply made her sad.

‘Too strong?’ Beau asked, nodding towards her environmentally friendly cardboard cup.

The stall vendor had told her that once he’d watched Beau’s first documentary about the impact of plastics and global warming on the natural world, he’d immediately moved to more environmentally friendly products. In fact, the whole village had. They were so proud of him. She didn’t think he realised just how much.

‘Would you like me to get you something else instead? Hot chocolate?’

Her head lifted. ‘Hot chocolate?’

‘Made with the finest Dutch chocolate on real milk.’

Oh, my God, that sounded delicious—perfect, sweet...comforting.

He laughed at whatever he saw in her face. Moving to a nearby stall, he returned moments later with a steaming mug of hot chocolate.

She buried her nose in the fragrant steam, glancing everywhere but at him. Coloured lights hung from the shops that surrounded the village green and the scent of cinnamon and gingerbread filled the air. She pulled the fragrance into her lungs. ‘The village looks pretty.’

‘It really does.’

His frown had her eyebrows lifting. ‘Why the surprise?’

‘I don’t know. I just...forgot.’ He shook his head, his frown deepening. ‘I’m coming to the sobering realisation that maybe I’ve been focussing too much on the ugliness of life rather than its beauty.’

The admission speared into her.

‘Once upon a time I always noticed the beauty. I could see beneath any surface ugliness to what was hidden below. Deserts and mudflats aren’t necessarily beautiful, but the life they contain...’

‘The fact that life can exist in such harsh or strange places, there’s beauty in that.’

‘Exactly.’ He gestured around. ‘But one doesn’t need to dig deep to find the beauty here in Ballingsmallard. The stone houses, the pretty lights. And nearby Exmoor is stunning.’

She’d read about Exmoor National Park and had every intention of visiting. ‘When was the last time you had a ramble there?’

He didn’t answer

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