Lovers by Christmas: The Priceless Collection, #3

By Angelita Gill

An invitation to spend the night...

Thea finds herself in a sexy rapport with a handsome stranger in a dark lounge. In his eyes, she sees the promise of an encounter unlike any other.

After one night of passion, Kenner already decides he needs to make Thea his, but how can he do that when she flees the morning after?

An invitation to an exclusive gala…

Thea never wants to see Kenner again, but when they cross paths at a Christmas party, she learns what he was really after the night they met, and it wasn't just her body. The only question is, can she trust him?

Two lonely souls find their way to each other on the most magical of seasons.
 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Angelita Gill
• Release date: Nov 1, 2015
• ISBN: 9781536598964

Angelita Gill

Angelita loves to give her characters their happily-ever-after, but only after they’ve earned it. The charming but cynical millionaire who loves women, but would never settle for just one. The independent beauty who knows the last thing she needs is some alpha male telling her what she wants. Ha! Her romances are fun and passionate with a dash of humor and a lot of heart. Angelita loves volunteering for the arts, spending time with her own alpha hero and dancing with her friends while she tries not to spill her wine.  

Book preview

Lovers by ChristmasTitle Page

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

The Priceless Collection Series

Diamonds & Desire

Pearls & Persuasion

Lovers By Christmas

Lovers by New Year’s

Rubies & Rhapsody

Lovers By The Fourth Of July

Lovers By Halloween

About the Author

LOVERS BY CHRISTMAS

Copyright 2016 by Angelita Gill

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First Edition

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All Rights Reserved

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This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever, without the express written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

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www.angelitagill.com

1

One month before Christmas…

The Dame & Dapper was one of those places where one didn’t feel weird walking in alone. An establishment where patrons came to hear the live music, drink the specialty Prohibition-era cocktails, and converse in low voices. Not the place to carouse and party.

Exactly what Thea was looking for.

It was also a venue Ben never took her, and therefore a safe place where her heart didn’t pang with memories.

A nice alternative to the chain bars, The Dame & Dapper was darker than dark with its red paisley wallpaper, petite, circular tables dotting around the space, one long bar, and a small stage for live performances of piano players, lounge singers, and the occasional burlesque show. It was currently sprinkled with a decent number of patrons for a Friday night, but not packed.

Thea found an open stool at the bar, and selected one of her favorite drinks from the menu. The mixologist in the suspenders and flat cap smiled and created her request.

She drew in a deep breath, then sighed. The nights were the hardest without Ben. Especially this time of year. She’d spent Thanksgiving with her friend Simon and a few others, grateful for the company, but still felt so very alone.

Even though it’d been over two years since Ben passed away, the holidays didn’t get any less agonizing. He’d been her comfort and joy, and she felt his loss the most during Christmas. They’d shared a warm, loving relationship for three years, but she always knew she’d never have him forever. He’d had a weak heart since childhood, and one day, he became gravely ill, never completely recovered, and passed away in the hospital. It’d been peaceful and expected, but nonetheless devastating.

He’d probably frown at her going to bars by herself, but she was tired of staying home, staring at a decorated tree, depressed and bored. During the day, she had plenty to keep herself occupied, but at night, she longed for someone to be close to again.

In the past two years, she’d let two men try and fail.

Simply put, there’d been no connection with those men. Companionship was easy to come by, but something deeper than that wasn’t, and at the age of thirty-one, she wasn’t really interested in artificial relationships that started out on a phone app. She’d done that with only disappointing results.

Having a man next to her in bed was nice, but she didn’t need one there.

She slept better alone.

Sipping her cocktail, she listened to the singer on stage croon about love lost while her pianist floated his fingers on the piano with an e-cig hanging from his mouth. Her voice reached every corner of the room with its vibrant richness and soulful depth. Enough to make anyone yearn for love.

Thea sensed someone watching her. To her left, in the corner booth. She straightened her shoulders and tried to ignore him. There was nothing annoying about it, but it was still discomfiting. Out of the corner of her eye, she glimpsed that way.

The only things the low lighting revealed were two long, masculine legs in dark dress pants, one ankle set on a knee. The rest of him hidden. She imagined the man was lounging, arms draped across the back in an elegant, casual—watchful—pose. It was as if an energy called to her to keep her attention to her left, even though she wanted to look straight ahead.

Concentrating on the singer was now ruined.

She sipped her cocktail and crossed her legs, a tingling awareness creeping up her spine with slow progression.

Movement from her peripheral had her fighting not to flicker a glance at the man who’d risen from the booth. He moved like a panther around the small tables as he stalked to the end of the bar. The hairs on Thea’s nape stood, and finally unable to stand it, she moved her gaze in his direction.

From what she could discern, he had a sharp nose, jaw, and cheekbones, dark brows, and dark hair. She couldn’t look away, and he didn’t attempt to hide his interest. To her shock, she didn’t find his open perusal creepy or unwelcoming. He seemed to be waiting for some kind of signal or invitation from her.

He wouldn’t get one.

Though a part of her wanted to smile, she resisted the impulse. Instead, she swiveled on her chair to face the stage again. Seconds later, when he strolled her way, her heart began to thunder as she pretended not to care, and prepared herself to shoot down the pick-up line he would no doubt drop on her.

Hello, he said in a deep, sexy voice, like warm brandy to the brain.

She looked at him, surprised at this simple greeting. No one just said hello anymore. He had that unshaven look of a day or two. However, he pulled it off very nicely with his brown eyes and thick dark hair on top. He wore a burgundy shirt, open at the throat with the sleeves rolled up. Very handsome and thoroughly affecting, but