Dreaming Of Christmas: A Fool's Gold Christmas / Only Us: A Fool's Gold Holiday. Susan Mallery
Читать онлайн.| Название | Dreaming Of Christmas: A Fool's Gold Christmas / Only Us: A Fool's Gold Holiday |
|---|---|
| Автор произведения | Susan Mallery |
| Жанр | Современные любовные романы |
| Серия | |
| Издательство | Современные любовные романы |
| Год выпуска | 0 |
| isbn |
A Dreaming of Christmas
A Fool’s Gold Christmas
Only Us: A Fool’s Gold Holiday
Susan Mallery
Table of Contents
Only Us: A Fool’s Gold Holiday
Susan Mallery
#1 New York Times bestselling author SUSAN MALLERY has won the hearts of millions of readers around the world with books described as ‘immensely entertaining, intensely emotional‘ (RT Book Reviews) and ‘heartwarming’ (Publishers Weekly). While she deeply appreciates the accolades of critics and booksellers, Mallery is even more honoured by the enthusiasm of her readers and the word of mouth that catapults her toward the top of the bestseller lists time and again.
Mallery lives in not-so-sunny Seattle with her husband and a toy poodle who makes her laugh every day and who’s not even a little bit impressed by her growing fame. Visit Susan online at www.susanmallery.com.
To the 2011 Head Cheerleader Char,who has such an amazing heart that she wanted to sharethis dedication with the entireFool’s Gold Varsity Cheerleading Squadin the spirit of Christmas. This one is for you.
The sound of eight tiny reindeer had nothing on a half-dozen eight-year-olds clog dancing, Dante Jefferson thought as he held the phone more closely to his ear.
“You’ll have to repeat that,” he yelled in to the receiver. “I’m having trouble hearing you.”
The steady thudding above his head paused briefly, then started up again.
“What’s going on there?” Franklin asked, his voice barely audible over the banging that nearly kept time with the damned piano music. “Construction?”
“I wish,” Dante muttered. “Look, I’ll call you back in a couple of hours.” The stupid dance class would be over by then. At least he hoped so.
“Sure. I’ll be here.” Franklin hung up.
Dante glanced at the bottom right of his computer screen. The ever-present clock told him it was seven-fifteen. In the evening. Which meant it was eleven-fifteen in the morning in Shanghai. He’d stayed late specifically to speak to Franklin about an international business deal that had developed a few glitches. The clog dancers had made the conversation impossible.
He saved the spreadsheet and went to work on his email. He and his business partner had plenty of other projects that needed his attention.
Just before eight, he heard the clog dancers going down the stairs. They laughed and shrieked, obviously not worn out by an hour of misstepping practice. He, on the other hand, had a pounding pain right behind his eyes and the thought that he would cheerfully strangle Rafe first thing in the morning. His business partner had been