One Hot Wynter's Night

By Fenella Ashworth

? "What an amazing read. Excellent balance of drama, love, and spice!"
? "Kristoff is a perfect alpha male, demanding, ruthless and obviously rich to boot."
? "A steamy romance novel which hits the spot!"
? "If you're looking for hot, steamy, panty melting sex, all wrapped up in a delicious plot, this book is for you!"
? "Must read! I absolutely loved it!"
5* Reviews

Attraction. Deception. Capture.

With an empty bank account and a teetering pile of unopened bills, Maggie Matthews is not only out of money...she's out of options. Against her better judgement, she accepts her best friend's offer to make some fast cash. Her mission? To join a group of journalists who are attempting to crash a masked ball, being held at the residence of the notorious Sir Kristoff de Wynter.

A well-known ladies man, Kristoff is a powerful businessman who takes no prisoners, either professionally or privately. Rich, ruthless, drop-dead gorgeous and exceptionally used to getting his own way, he is certainly a force to be reckoned with. Unable to resist the bewitching Maggie, Kristoff unleashes the full power of his well-honed seduction techniques, in a persuasive bid to entice her into bed.

In so doing, he immediately provokes her fighting spirit, ensuring that sparks are destined to fly. But how will he react upon learning the real reason for Maggie's presence at his party? And what on earth will he demand as payback for her deceptive actions?

Would you submit to the wicked demands of Kristoff de Wynter?

A happy ever after steamy romance, containing a hot Alpha male and plenty of spicy fun.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Fenella Ashworth
• Release date: Feb 22, 2025
• ISBN: 9798230693055

Fenella Ashworth

Fenella Ashworth is a British author of over 40 contemporary steamy romance books for 18+. Her most popular books are 'One Hot Wynter's Night', 'To Love, Honour and...Oh Pay', 'Fictional Fantasies' and the Daniel Lawson Series. Find Fenella online at www.fenellaashworth.com where you can subscribe to her newsletter for ongoing freebies.

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

Maggie flicked aimlessly through her post, wondering what unexpected delights she would encounter today. She had studiously managed to ignore the red-inked envelopes all morning. Now, half way through the afternoon, those final demands which had recently become her unwelcome, unloved, yet constant companion, necessitated dealing with. With a sigh, she tucked the correspondence under a newspaper, at the last moment; she would deal with them, once she felt strong enough. Flicking on the kettle, her attention was instead directed towards making a super-strong coffee, in the vague hope that it would knock her out of an imminent melancholy.

Basic existence hadn’t always been such a definitive uphill struggle, she mused, selecting one of her favourite mugs. Indeed, Maggie only had to think back a couple of summers ago, when life was good and the going was relatively easy. It was depressing to find herself in her mid-thirties and in financial distress; she really should have her shit together by this age! Shaking her head irritably, Maggie returned her attention to pouring steaming water into her coffee cup. Taking a deep breath, she allowed the delicious aroma to disperse her anger. With all this reminiscing, memories of her ex-boyfriend had dared to seep their way into her consciousness. And given that he was the entire reason she was in such a mess in the first place, his presence in her head was both unwelcome and the very last thing she needed.

Fortunately at that moment, her mobile phone rang. Maggie grabbed it, like a drowning woman being offered a life ring. Glancing at the display, she smiled at Suzie’s perfect timing.

‘Good afternoon!’ grinned Maggie.

‘Is it?’ grumbled the dulcet tones of her best friend. ‘I really need you to come out with me. You’re not busy tonight, are you?’ she asked, her voice raising hopefully.

‘I can’t, Suze,’ explained Maggie, rolling her eyes dramatically. ‘I’m poorer than a church mouse that’s just found out his in-laws are planning on moving in. I literally don’t have a bean. Actually,’ she added with a shudder. ‘It’s even worse than that. I owe beans!’

‘I wasn’t suggesting we go out on the razzle,’ her caller teased gently. ‘I’m offering you the chance to earn some decent cashola.’

‘Doing what, exactly?’ asked Maggie, with a healthy portion of cynicism.

‘We just have to try and crash a party.’

‘Whose party?’

‘I’ve got no idea. It’s something that’s being organised at work. Very hush-hush. But it’s cash in hand, to partake in an activity we were extremely well practiced at, throughout our teens and a good portion of our twenties,’ smiled her friend. ‘Easy money.’

Maggie pondered for a short while. She was quite used to random requests from her best friend, who worked as a journalist at a divisional office of one of the less salubrious national newspapers. Consequently, employees were occasionally offered cash inducements to take part in reccies, typically requiring a somewhat dubious moral code.

‘Is it illegal?’ asked Maggie, her intense green eyes narrowing with concern.

‘Gate-crashing a party? How can it be? All they need to do is turn us away at the door, if they don’t want us to enter. We’ll still get paid.’

‘Okay, thanks for thinking of me, I guess,’ conceded Maggie. She had an electricity bill which simply had to be paid in the next three days. With absolutely no idea how to lay her hands on the couple of hundred pounds required, this was certainly a very timely offer, as well as a welcome one. ‘Where’s the party?’

‘Fuck knows!’ giggled Suzie, lowering her voice. ‘Godzilla’s told us to be back at the office tonight, wearing our best ballgowns and dancing shoes. Transport is being arranged. That’s all I know. It’s tip top secret!’

‘It sounds dodgy,’ sighed Maggie, wishing she was in a position to be able to turn down the offer.

‘Course it does. But we’ll be together and they’ll pay you five hundred quid to turn out. Come on, please? How many times did we voluntarily crash parties when we were younger, for no payment at all?’

‘I’m guessing this isn’t a teenager’s birthday party though, where the highlight is spin the bottle?’

‘Probably not,’ giggled Suzie. ‘Worst luck! But if you’re that desperately in need of a big, wet kiss, I know exactly the man to oblige you!’

‘My gorgeous godson?’ grinned Maggie. ‘How is Teddy? I need to come round soon for a humongous cuddle!’

‘He’s a delight,’ agreed Suzie, thinking fondly of her delicious baby. She’d only recently returned from six months of maternity leave, where she’d spent every minute with him. Consequently, Suzie was missing her son more than she would ever admit, particularly to her Editor-In-Chief, who had barely stopped querying why she had needed any time off at all. ‘Hubby’s looking after him today.’

‘Don’t forget, I’ll babysit whenever you want to go out.’

‘Don’t you have enough of children during working hours,’ teased Suzie.

‘I could never have enough of Teddy!’ argued Maggie. ‘Besides, it’s the school summer holidays so my resistance has been built back up again.’ Suzie laughed.

‘Glutton for punishment! Right, any questions before I disappear?’

‘Yeah,’ grinned Maggie impishly. ‘Do you think it’s possible for women’s bodies to close up completely without sex?’

‘I meant questions about tonight,’ exclaimed Suzie, bursting out laughing.

‘I know,’ said Maggie, laughing along with her.

‘It hasn’t been that long, has it?’ asked her friend.

‘Suze! It’s been nearly two fucking years!’

‘Look, I’d better go,’ Suzie replied, suddenly in a much more professional tone. Clearly, she was at work and could now be overheard. ‘We can discuss this later, but be at my office at seven o’clock tonight. Okay?’

‘Sure, see you then.’

Carefully, Maggie ended the call and placed her telephone down on the counter beside the ever-increasing pile of bills. Apparently, it was time to dust off her one and only ballgown.

‘You look amazing!’ said Maggie, gazing in wonder at her best friend’s blonde hair, elegantly piled up onto the top of her head. Gratefully, she accepted a glass of champagne and took a large swig for Dutch Courage.

‘So do you!’ grinned Suzie, hugging her. As they made their way into a large boardroom with framed front pages of their publication gazing down at them, Maggie glanced around at the surprisingly large number of people gathered. They were all dressed up in their finery, causing Maggie to suddenly feel much less self-conscious. In a short, black, lacy dress and high heels, which displayed her long legs to perfection, she had been concerned she might be somewhat overdressed. Now, based on the other potential gate-crashers, she was pleased to have made the effort.

‘Right!’ ordered Juliet Masters, clapping her hands as she bustled into the room. The Editor-In-Chief was fondly referred to as Godzilla by her staff, although never to her face. Juliet was a striking, rather than attractive woman but nonetheless, clearly a force to be reckoned with. ‘Thank you for joining us on this auspicious Friday night, to undertake what is fast becoming an annual rite of passage. Can I have the lights turned off please?’

A mutter of excitement traversed the group, as the room descended into darkness. Everyone’s attention was immediately drawn to a large, lit screen.

‘Quick warning,’ Suzie whispered under her breath, in Maggie’s direction. ‘Don’t argue with this woman. She’s a ballbuster. So whatever you do, don’t piss her off.’

‘Britain no longer has a population of wolves,’ Godzilla announced dramatically. ‘With one notable exception.’

At that moment, a photograph of the most handsome man Maggie had ever laid eyes on, filled the screen. With a sharp inhale, she allowed the image to fill her up. Dark, terrifyingly brooding and radiating an unharnessed power, she felt a shiver of lust pass straight down her spine. The guy was gorgeous; or as her teenage self would have said… seriously shaggable.

‘Sir Kristoff de Wynter,’ continued Juliet dramatically. ‘That’s Kristoff spelt with two F’s, for those of you who are interested. Stands for Fearsome Fucker.’

‘Phew!’ exclaimed Suzie, fanning her face, much to the delight of her colleagues. ‘It’s a pity this isn’t going to be a teenager’s party. I wouldn’t mind spinning the bottle with him!’

‘You’re a married woman!’ called out one of them.

‘Yeah, I know! So I’ll just have to live vicariously through you lot.’

‘Be careful what you wish for, girls,’ warned Juliet ominously. ‘He’s a wolf in the very worst sense of the word; dangerous, ruthless, unrelenting and savage.’

‘Is it wrong that hearing that description only makes me fancy him more?’ whispered Suzie. Maggie stifled her giggle, lest she get reprimanded by the terrifying Godzilla.

‘I’m so out of practice, I probably wouldn’t have a clue what to do with him,’ she murmured in response.

‘As I previously alluded to,’ continued Godzilla in her booming voice, forcing the rest of the room to immediately fall silent once more. ‘Tonight won’t be the first time we’ve tried to infiltrate Kristoff’s residence, although I anticipate it will be the first time we succeed. That’s because tonight, we are going in numbers. A masked ball is being held there this evening, to be attended by dignitaries…and even, so I’m reliably informed, some members of the royal family. Oh yes, I also ought to mention…he’s immorally rich.’

Glancing towards one of her staff, she nodded abruptly. At that moment, everybody in the room received a new email on their phone. Maggie glanced down at hers, noting that the message had a number of attachments.

‘You’ve all just been sent a floor plan of Kristoff de Wynter’s residence, plus a list of six-digit numbers. Your task tonight is to infiltrate the party, before making your way to the master bedroom on the second floor. Inside that room, behind the door, you will find a safe. It is our best guess that one of those numbers is likely to open the safe. Kristoff is a heartless, powerful, some would say ruthless businessman, but I’m not interested in any money or secret commercial documents that might be inside. The only thing I want taken from that safe is a bundle of memory cards.’

‘Don’t say a word,’ hissed Suzie, with a warning shake of her head. She was well aware that her best friend had very strong, morally-grounded beliefs about right and wrong. Indeed, she could practically feel Maggie priming herself to refuse to take part. Clearly agitated, Maggie did as she’d been told. Silencing her argument, which was clamouring to be heard, she instead focussed on downing the remainder of her champagne.

‘Get turned away at the entrance by security and earn yourself five hundred pounds,’ explained Juliet silkily. ‘Get inside the property itself and earn yourself two thousand pounds. Retrieve the memory cards from Sir Kristoff de Wynter’s safe and deliver them to me. You will be rewarded with fifty thousand pounds.’

A gasp went around the room in response to the astronomical sums being offered. This was clearly a story she was going all out for.

‘One last thing,’ she added, puffing out her chest in determination. ‘If any of you do happen to get inside his safe, I want you to leave it wide open so the fucker knows we’ve been there, the moment he steps foot in his room. Good luck and don’t get caught. The man is very aptly named; his heart is as cold as any winter. Dismissed,’ she announced, immediately marching out of the room without a backward glance.

‘Holy Fuck,’ breathed Suzie.

‘I know I need the money,’ began Maggie, alcohol threatening to cloud her normally very clear moral judgement. ‘But this is wrong. I can’t do this.’

‘Oh come on!’ chivvied Suzie. ‘Do you seriously think any of us are going to make it past the front door, with the levels of security they’ll be employing tonight? We’re scarcely James Bond material! Personally, I’m happy just to take my five hundred pounds for being turned away at the door, and then go home. Aren’t you?’

‘I guess,’ murmured a pained Maggie. Damn her wanker of an ex, for getting her into such a financial hole that this was the only way to dig herself out. She hated not having the luxury of being able to choose between right and wrong; for being forced into taking weak decisions, against her will. This whole scheme was dishonest and she knew it. Yet, to her eternal shame, Maggie accepted one of the masquerade masks which were being handed out to all participants and followed the group towards the vehicles.

Squashed up tightly on the back seat of an ancient, off-road Landrover, Suzie on one side and a lanky, ginger-haired bloke called Dave on the other, this wasn’t quite the transport service Maggie had been expecting.

‘Remind me,’ she groaned with heavy sarcasm, subtly supporting her chest as the track they were travelling along became increasingly bumpy. ‘Why did we get this level of luxury, instead of the Bentley? Which I’d obviously have hated...’

‘Luck?’ replied Suzie, with a grimace.

Doubling their chance of success, the party-goers had been divided into two sets. One group of four people were due to arrive in a highly polished, black Bentley; the aristocrats’ car of choice. They would daringly be driven straight through the front gate of the property, in full view of all security personnel. A second group of nine were travelling in two Landrovers, taking the off-road approach, through the enormous forty-thousand acre estate that helped form Sir Kristoff de Wynter’s property. To their dismay, Maggie and Suzie had drawn the short straw, making them wish they’d worn more supportive undergarments.

‘Why is Godzilla so interested in this guy?’ asked Dave. ‘What’s the angle?’

‘No idea,’ came a voice from the front passenger seat. ‘But then, the boss has always played her cards pretty close to her chest, hasn’t she?’

For a brief moment, the only noise was the rich, throaty roar of the Landrover, as it began to traverse along a dirt track.

‘I know,’ admitted Suzie in a pained voice, as though the pressure of the secret was crushing her.

‘Don’t hold out on us now, Suze,’ her compatriots urged. ‘Spill!’

‘I’m not supposed to know…don’t ask how I do know,’ she grumbled. ‘But Kristoff de Wynter is a well-known ladies’ man. He’s a serious player.’

Maggie felt her stomach drop unexpectedly. Her reaction had nothing to do with an unexpected bump in the track, and everything to do with disappointment. In the photo which had flashed up on the screen, Kristoff had looked like her perfect man. Suzie’s disclosure immediately confirmed that he was no such thing. Suddenly, Maggie had an urge to laugh at herself. She was responding emotionally to the actions of a man she had never met, had next to no chance of ever meeting, and who would have no interest in her if ever they did meet. Sometimes, she needed a serious reality check.

‘He’s rumoured to record the women he fucks, which incidentally, he does with more than a moderate level of kink. The images aren’t the kinds of scenarios you’d want your husband, friends, colleagues or kids ever seeing. I’m guessing that’s what’s on the memory cards. The recordings are then retained and have, on occasion, been used for blackmail purposes, either against the women themselves, or their subsequently powerful husbands...allegedly,’ explained Suzie to her colleagues, who were listening in rapt silence. ‘In short, Godzilla is sending us in to steal the sexual blackmail chronicles of Kristoff de Wynter,’ she concluded significantly.

‘Fuck!’ breathed Dave. ‘That would be one hell of a story!’

‘Priceless to a newspaper editor,’ agreed another. ‘All provided by the classic anonymous source, which she will never have to reveal.’

‘Hence the pay-out she’s offering,’ explained Suzie. ‘Plus, he’s renowned for never doing press interviews. She’d make her initial outlay back a hundred times over. Hell! A thousand times over!’

At that moment, a crackle came over the CB radio, which was lodged on the dashboard at the front.

‘We’re screwed,’ exclaimed an urgent voice, which Suzie recognised as one of her colleagues. From his rapid breathing and heavy footfall, it sounded as though he was running. Fast. ‘We didn’t make it through the gates. You’re on your own.’

‘Christ!’ whistled Dave. ‘The Bentley didn’t make it in.’

‘It’s down to us now, then,’ said the driver, immediately slowing down and turning off the headlights. Carefully, he continued to drive forwards in a low gear, navigating solely by the dappled moonlight.

Holding on tightly to the seat in front, Maggie took in a deep breath and tried to steady her gathering pulse. It was a surreal experience to be driven in the pitch black, without any lights, through a woodland they were clearly trespassing in. A short while later, under the cover of darkness, they pulled up close to a huge, stone wall. Peering over it, Maggie could see an enormous, honey-coloured castle, illuminated by spotlights. Through the many floor-to-ceiling windows, she could make out quite a party going on inside, with waiters sashaying around hundreds of beautifully-attired guests.

‘Right, masks on,’ instructed the driver, as he killed the engine. With the help of her shaking hands, Maggie fitted the black lace Masquerade mask carefully around her face. Starting at her forehead and ending on the bridge of her nose, it surrounded her eyes entirely. Complementing her dress perfectly, the accessory provided her with an unexpected confidence, to go ahead with this truly insane plan. She needed the money, she reminded herself strictly, as they exited the vehicle. Shortly, she’d be heading back home again, having undoubtedly failed to make it inside, five hundred