The month of December is full of holidays and religious observances. I missed wishing people a lovely Hanukkah, and I’m sorry for that. This week kicks off with the Winter Solstice or Yule, followed by Christmas and then Kwanzaa. I hope that no matter what holiday you celebrate that it’s safe and wonderful, in spite of the weirdness and horror that has been 2020.
Our holidays here the last few years have been small events since the people we celebrated with has left this world, so this week will be the same for us, just us and our boys. The Solstice is my holiday this week, but we’ve always had a family dinner on Christmas Day as well. It is a nice quiet day spent with family, and after this year, that will be a wonderful way to wind down the year.
My bigger task this week is wrapping up my writing goals for the new year. I’ve been hashing them out and trying to fine-tune them since last month, and I am determined they’ll be ready to go by the end of this week. Plus I still have some words to write to make my word count goal for the month, though I’m in pretty good shape there since most of the month, I’ve exceeded my daily quota, and I only took one day off, which was Friday, so we could see our livestream concert.
So, before I go work on today’s words, I have a little snippet to share with you from the story I’m working on this month, the second in my tiger shifter series.
An hour later, she’d nearly finished compiling the report, when India felt eyes on her, making the fine hairs at the back of her neck prickle. She looked up, frowning. No one. She tapped her fingers on the desktop, shifting her gaze to the window.
And then she saw him, standing at the window across the street.
Her heartbeat leaped into high gear, and she tried to slow it down, tried to convince herself it was just her imagination, just a little wishful thinking left over from last weekend. Her imagination.
Even though she knew it wasn’t.
He was here.
Heat flashed through her, molten, and left her shivering. If she tried to leave the office, her legs would never hold her.
She couldn’t see his face clearly from here, but she didn’t need to. She knew it almost as well as her own, even after all this time.
She shut her eyes and turned back to her desk.
Her phone rang, and she nearly jumped out of her chair. Laughing at herself, she picked it up. “Hello?”
“Hello, a rúnsearc.” The lilting Irish accent teased her ear, familiar, sexy.
She went still, except for her racing heart. “What do you want?” The question came out hoarse, but she couldn’t help it. Her imagination went wild. Memories, good and bad, flooded through her.
He chuckled, and arousal stirred in her belly, spreading outward. She knew what he wanted. “Have dinner with me,” he said after a second.
“No.” She was a little surprised she’d managed to sound like she meant that.
“You’d really make me wait until the meeting next week to have a meal together?”
India shut her eyes. He would be there. Dear Gods.
“India, a rúnsearc?”
“Why are you here?” She should have just repeated her refusal and hung up.
“Why do you think?”
To torture her, obviously. Every part of her wanted to go to him, even now. “Because you’re a glutton for punishment,” she muttered.
He laughed again. “For you? Of course.”
She’d meant herself, and she flushed, trying to ignore the slow, thick trickle of heat in her veins, the building throb in her belly.
“But the pleasure is so much better,” he whispered.
A moan tried to climb her throat, and she covered her mouth with her free hand to contain it.
“I know you remember, too. How good.”
His words had every part of her body on high alert. Of course she remembered.
“Have dinner with me. Please.”
“When?” She’d meant to say ‘no’ again. Really.
India squeezed her eyes shut. “I’ll meet you.”
She heard his breath rush out, as if he’d been holding it. “Carlo’s, at six.”
“All right.” She dropped back against her chair, feeling weak, light-headed. What was she doing?
“Till then, beloved.”
She thumbed the phone off and covered her face with both hands. Playing with fire. She knew better, but she’d never been able to help herself where Rory Phelan was concerned.
After a minute, she sat up and glanced out the window.
He was gone.
Knowing that didn’t make her racing pulse ease, or dampen the arousal filling her, inside and out.
She allowed herself a whimper before she straightened in her seat and attempted to return her focus to the work waiting. It didn’t work very well. Every few minutes, she caught herself glancing at the clock on the wall.
After about half an hour, she’d had enough and called Veda. “Do I have any more meetings scheduled today?” She knew they’d gone over her schedule earlier, but her brain was too full of Rory now to remember.
“Good, I need to go. The scheduling report is finished.” Or at least as finished as it was going to get. She closed the document, then shut down her computer. There was no point in trying to work now.
Too much anticipation flowed along her veins to think of anything else but him.
The only thing her brain would be good for now was a little mindless shopping, and maybe not even that.
I hope you find some quiet time this week amid your busy-ness to relax in your favorite way, whether it’s with a cup of cocoa and a good book, or a walk in the snow (if you’re lucky enough to have some), or some other way.
And if you need something to read, or a gift for a romance reader, Light the Way Home is available at all of your favorite booksellers, and you can find it by clicking on the title.
Have a lovely holiday week, no matter which one you celebrate, and if you don’t celebrate any of them, that’s okay too, I still hope you have a great week!