A Christmas Seduction. Daire Denis St.

boy nodded as if that made perfect sense, and Thad went on to explain how in Louisiana they set up huge bonfires on Christmas Eve to light the way for Papa Noel because it could be so dark at that time of year.

      “Can we light a bonfire?” The boy looked at Dillon excitedly. “Can we? So Santa doesn’t get lost?”

      Thad didn’t wait for Dillon to answer. Pointing to the big fireplace, he said, “We don’t need bonfires. We got a fireplace to let him know where we’re at.”

      His story led to others in the group swapping their own, and while Dillon talked, Thad got up to refill his glass with eggnog, smiling as he ladled. What was it about this year that felt so different? It’d been almost twelve years since he’d left NOLA. Since Katrina and everything that came before. But this was the first Christmas he actually felt like he belonged somewhere.

      It was nice.

      A soft step followed by the scent of peppermint alerted Thad to her presence.

      “That was quite the story,” she said, her voice husky and low.

      Thad shut his eyes before answering because he already knew why this holiday felt different.

      Jolie.

       5

      Want to spice up your holiday? Try a holiday fling.

      Jo Duval

      THAD TURNED TO find Jolie gazing up at him, her eyes sparkling in the candlelight.

      “You like Christmas stories, do you?”

      “Who doesn’t?” She pointed at his glass. “Is that eggnog?”

      “Yep.”

      “Homemade?”

      “Of course.”

      She eyed his glass.

      “Did you want some?”

      “Oh, no...it’s just that I’ve never tried it.”

      “Seriously, woman. Where’ve you been at? A nunnery?” He held his glass out to her.

      Without hesitation, she took it from his hands and sipped.

      “Ooh. That is good.” She took another sip. “Mmm. Filling but delicious.”

      After a third sip, Thad drawled, “Do you want to keep that one?”

      With a laugh she handed it back. “No. I’ll stick to my mulled wine.” She picked up the mug she’d set on the table and backed up a step, then two.

      “Can I refill your mug for you?”

      “Sure.”

      He took it from her hands, their fingers touching briefly, hers long, slim and delicate.

      Nice.

      He ladled steaming wine inside and handed it back, wanting to touch again.

      “Thank you.” Smiling, she shuffled back another step, her gaze flicking to the rafters.

      Thad’s eyes followed and he realized that she’d positioned herself under the mistletoe. On purpose? He’d just have to see about that, now, wouldn’t he?

      Leaning against the door frame, he pretended like he wasn’t onto her. That damn devil that lived beneath his skin rubbed its hands together at the thought of tormenting the woman. Just a little.

      “So, Ms. Jolie, where y’at?”

      “Excuse me?”

      “Just wondering how you’re doing. Did you have a good day?”

      “Oh...yes. It was lovely.” Her gaze went skyward then came back down.

      “You sore at all?” His gaze slid low and lingered because she had the nicest legs.

      She coughed. “Uh...not yet. Should I be?”

      Thad shrugged. “Dunno.” He crossed his arms at his chest and moved one boot over the other, as if setting himself up for a nice long standoff. Sha. Why did he enjoy torturing this woman so much? “Depends what kind of shape you’re in, I guess.”

      She shifted her feet. “I’m in decent shape.”

      Thad concurred as he allowed his gaze to take her in, nice and slow. “Then you should be just fine.” An understatement. The woman was more than fine, particularly right now, because there was something sinful sparkling in those pretty brown eyes of hers.

      Pushing himself from the wall, he moved closer.

      Her chin lifted and her gaze went to the mistletoe again. Yep, she knew exactly what was what.

      “You need anything else?” he asked huskily, noticing how her full lips parted. Then that sweet, sweet tongue made an appearance, passing over her lips, making them nice and moist.