Winter's Kiss

By Katerina Simms

New city. New job. New life. A short and steamy Christmas tale about hope and second chances.

 

Kristen Moore has escaped to Boston, soul-shattered and in search of new beginnings. Not that any of that matters to her new boss, Julian Grison, an aloof tech genius whose reputation for generosity seems like a complete myth.

But Christmas Eve brings about an unexpected turn of events and it becomes clear Julian is everything Kristen has ever wanted. She's now forced to make a heart-wrenching decision—deny herself this one chance at happiness, or face the very real fear that no man will ever accept her scarred and battered reality.

 

Indulge in this heartwarming holiday novella today!

 

 

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*This is a short story of about eleven thousand words!

 

Author's Note: Enemies-to-lovers. Opposites attract. Slow burn. Heat with heart and big emotions. Contemporary Romance, with a hint of Women's Fiction. Angsty with bursts of humor. Workplace romance. All the Christmas and holiday feels. Strong, but wounded heroine. A second chance short story, with a hero that "gets it" and wants his woman to be whole.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Katerina Simms
• Release date: Oct 16, 2021
• ISBN: 9781393151203

Book preview

Winter’s KissTitle Page

1

Wednesday, 3rd December.

You’ve got to be joking.

Kristen Moore clamped her teeth together and bit back a protest, her heart hammering in reaction to the beautiful man seated at the polished wood desk across from her. The same beautiful man had just asked her to carry out duties fit for the work experience kid…

Sorry, could you say that again? She tucked a lock of short hair behind her ear, palms sweaty, her rainbow bangles clanging together, as she stood at the other end of his lush Boston office.

Julian Grison narrowed his gaze in a quizzical glare. I said. He nodded to two massive archive boxes against the giant city-facing windows. I need you to organize and index these files as soon as possible.

She eyed the boxes again, ominous gray clouds gathered outside the windows behind them. Her first hour at Grison Global Communications as this man’s personal assistant, and she’d already hit a hurdle.

Sure, she’d been assured her tasks would be easy enough, but sorting mountains of files wasn’t in her job description. Still, she needed this role. Returning to her old job wasn’t an option, and she preferred something simple, yet exciting. She’d hoped Julian and Boston would be her answer.

As if to sense her uncertainty, he quirked a brow and added a reluctant. Thank you.

But the hollow hint of remorse didn’t last long.

His deep brown eyes darkened onto a stare and confirmed that in this office, he ruled as King and she was the outsider. Got a problem?

She peered down at her multi-colored gypsy skirt, cheeks heated with a sense of being underdressed—despite having been told to adopt relaxed attire. No amount of casual dress could free her from the prickliness of this encounter. No, sir.

She dared to lift her gaze again, to her new boss and his gorgeous dark waves circling the edges of his hairline.

Granted, the man was so handsome he could land himself the cover of a steamy romance novel. And his refined London accent curled around his words in a warm and inviting tone. And then there was his mysterious olive complexion, so contrary to the stereotype of a pale English gentleman…

For the longest time, she’d idolized Julian Grison. A pioneer in technology. A supposedly amazing boss to work for…

Pity the man and the myth were two very different creatures.

I … She caught her dreary reflection in the window and her smile dropped. Her skin didn’t glow like it used to. Her cropped pixie hairstyle didn’t quite suit her. And sometimes she forgot how skinny she’d become. I’ll get to those files right away, sir.

She embarked with a hurried stride toward the cardboard boxes on the floor. Paper overflowed in a haphazard configuration and she tried not to grunt as she picked up the first box. Her first day would be a bad time to assert her limits.

Ms Moore? His voice stopped her mid-stride, as she headed for the door. His vibrant eyes hinted at mischief. Please don’t call me sir. I’m only thirty-three years old, and as yet, the Queen hasn’t knighted me. Julian will do.

Seven hours later, Kristen straightened her back, her joints pained after all that hunching over boxes. Since little more than a glass wall separated her from Julian, she turned to her left to hide a yawn.

Aside from sorting out archive boxes, he’d plied her with a long list of other dry and pointless tasks. She’d pulled staples from outdated booklets, proofread an almost comical report on office dynamics—surely that task belonged to someone in human resources—then been ordered downstairs five times to grab coffee for Julian. He’d somehow managed to drink none of them.

All of those tasks, whilst doing her actual job of screening calls, greeting clients, and booking appointments.

Her phone rang and an already familiar light flashed on the keypad. She let out a sigh. Yes, Julian?

Sorry to interrupt your daydreaming. She turned and caught him watching her through the wall-sized window. I take it you’ve finished indexing those boxes?