Her Mistletoe Husband. Renee Roszel

simple, stupid,” he interjected. “Didn’t you learn that in law school? K-I-S-S.”

      As the acronym soaked in, her cheeks heated. Just who was the one who couldn’t get her mind off sex? “Oh...”

      “I find that the simplest story is usually the best. If you must lie to your family, tell them I own the D’Amour mansion, that I’m staying here while it’s remodeled and that we’ve become friends.”

      After a moment, she nodded, acknowledging that the idea had merit. “And—and since you didn’t have a reservation,” she improvised, “I had to put you down here in the basement.”

      His expression had grown serious. A tensing along his jaw drew her attention. “What’s wrong now? It was your idea.”

      He leaned forward, over the chair back. Elissa had the urge to clamber onto her desk to put distance between them, but she resisted. “Are you sure you want to lie? Wouldn’t you rather have your family join you in staring daggers at me?”

      “Of course I would,” she admitted, then shook her head. “But I want their holiday here to be happy. Besides, once I’ve proven my ownership, they’ll never have to know there was a problem.” Making reluctant eye contact, she tried to seem confident, but the act was tainted when she adjusted her suit jacket and toyed with the buttons.

      He clenched his jaw. “I may joke about it, Miss Crosby, but frankly, I don’t like lying.”

      “I don’t care what you like.” She bit her tongue. This was no time to make him mad. Shaking herself for her outburst she eased her features and her voice. “If you have an ounce of humanity in you, you’ll do this for my family’s sake.”

      He eyed her with cynicism. “I don’t give a damn about families.”

      “Miss Elissa!” came Bella’s shout from the top of the stairs. “Your sisters are here.”

      Witnessing Alex D’Amour’s unyielding expression, Elissa’s heart fell into a deep, dark well.

      CHAPTER THREE

      ALEX D‘AMOUR’S expression was uncompromising, and panic rose inside Elissa. What could she offer this ruthless man to make him help her? In a last-ditch attempt, she pleaded, “I’m begging you, Mr. D’Amour.” Her voice cracked, and she hated the sound of her weakness. Hated to have to ask anything of him.

      She’d always been the strong one, the big sister Helen and Lucy depended on—ever since Mother had died. She’d only been nine, but her grief-stricken father had been no comfort to the three young girls. Even after Elissa had gone to law school she’d been there for her family, calling home every night to make herself available to listen to their problems or fears. Daddy had come to depend on her, too, when the illness that finally took his life incapacitated him. Helen and Lucy continued to count on her. She’d been mothering her sisters almost all their lives, and she didn’t intend to fail them now.

      She would not allow Alex’s claim on her property to cast a pall over the holidays. She saw her sisters so rarely since they’d married, she refused to inflict pain on them during their short visit. But in order to protect them, she needed Alex D’Amour’s help.

      Swallowing to steady her voice, she asked, just above a whisper, “If you won’t do it for my family, what—what would you do it for?”

      A muscle flexed in his jaw, emphasizing the place where she had wounded him nearly a week ago. Shuttered eyes scanned her face, making her feel like a flea about to be swatted. As time stretched into an agonizing eternity, her emotions became as taut as violin strings. Finally he muttered, “I’ll do it for you.”

      She was confused, not sure she’d heard right. “For—me?” Visions of demanded sexual favors flashed through her mind. She bit out her reply, “No matter how badly I need your help, I won’t sleep with you.”

      His low chuckle was humorless. “Don’t panic, Miss Crosby, I don’t force women into my bed.” He turned away, presenting her with his grim profile. “I just figure I can do that much for you.”

      She could hardly believe what she was hearing. He’d agreed, and there were no strings. Clearly he was less than delighted about it, but he was going to keep the secret. That’s what mattered.

      Overwhelmed with gratitude, she stumbled around the chair and threw her arms around his neck, hugging him. “Oh, thank you! Thank you, Mr. D’Amour.” She could feel his body go taut against hers in his surprise, and that reminded her exactly who he was and why he was there. What did she think she was doing? She backed away, mortified.

      She noticed his hands had stilled in a half-raised position, almost a defensive gesture. She came close to smiling about that. Could she blame him for anticipating an attack? After all, the only other times she’d made contact with his body she’d clawed him, kneed him, then tried to knee him, again.

      Avoiding his gaze she focused on his cleft chin, striving to appear all business. “Uh, you can call me Elissa and I’ll call you Alex. Okay?”

      He smiled, but there was precious little humor there. “Why didn’t I think of that.”

      “Miss Elissa?” Bella called again.

      Her heart constricted. “Oh dear...” Was she going to be able to carry off this farce? Could she keep her worries from her family? “Oh—dear...”

      A hand, big and warm, encircled her elbow. Until that second, she hadn’t realized how cold she was. “Let’s go, Elissa dear.” He tugged her into movement. “How’s this?” Light-headed with trepidation, she glanced at his face. He grinned down at her in a way that reeked of affection. He was really good “Now you try,” he coaxed.

      She inhaled, attempting to arrange her face in a smile.

      He chuckled as she battled to fake a pleasant demeanor. “This is your lie, Miss Crosby. If you want to look believable, unclench your teeth.”

      She tried again.

      “Better.” He aimed her toward the steps. “Should I put my arm around you?”

      “No!” She drew away. “We don’t have to be that friendly. Maybe just, er, acquaintances is fine. The point is, I don’t want you to mention the—you know.” She could feel her nerve draining away. It had never occurred to her that her little white lie might include physical contact.

      He took her arm again when he saw that she was hesitating. “Okay, Miss Acquaintance. Just so we’re acquainted enough that we don’t claw each other in the face or knee each other in our private parts. Deal?”

      She slanted him a look, her lips twitching in what was trying to be a smile. Dam the man; his easygoing charm was getting to her. Apparently her gratefulness was making her feeble-witted. “I make no promises.”

      Laughter rumbled in his throat. “I love a woman of mystery.”

      The mellow timbre of his mirth rankled her, not so much because she didn’t like the sound of it, but because she did.

      

      Much of Elissa’s. anxiety melted away when she entered the noisy commotion going on in the reception hall. Her sisters, Lucy and Helen, and their husbands, Jack and Damien, laughed and chatted and carried in luggage. Since their flights had arrived within the same hour, they’d decided to rent a car and drive down from Springfield together.

      When Elissa spied her nieces, Gilly and Glory, scampering among a forest of suitcases and adult legs, she managed a real smile. Hurrying into the fray, she hunkered down to toddler level. “Where are my girls?” She stretched out welcoming arms. “How about a kiss for Aunt Elissa?”

      Giggly squeals answered her. Seconds later she was plowed into by twin, chubby projectiles, who had their daddy’s dark hair and their mommy’s bright, gray eyes. Shy little Elissa Gillian, her namesake, planted a cool, sloppy kiss on her cheek.

      Elissa