I’m telling you I don’t want you to change. I want you just the way you are.”
“Christie, there’s a reason I only had a couple of friends as a kid. A reason I never had any relationships that lasted longer than a couple of days. I can’t maintain them.”
“What about your sister? You’re close to her, aren’t you?”
“Yes, but she’s my sister.”
“So? Your mother was your mother and yet she left.”
“Jude would never—”
“No. Because she loves you. And so do I.” She stroked his cheeks with her thumbs, wanting to take away the doubt she saw in his eyes. “You made me see the strength within myself. Now it’s your turn to let me show you yours.”
Something flared in his eyes. “What strength?”
“Your ability to care. Your loyalty. Your humor. Your excitement. Your enthusiasm. Your incredible focus. The way you make me feel like the center of the entire universe. You have so many strengths. So many.”
For a long moment he just stared at her. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I know you don’t. But you have to know, I don’t walk away from people just because they’ve hurt me a couple of times.” She managed a smile. “Hey, I stuck by my stupid family for years and years and years, remember?”
All the tension seemed to drain out of his body. He put his arms around her. “When I said that stuff about me getting bored, that was an excuse,” he said hoarsely. “I don’t think I could ever get bored with you.”
She grinned. “You better bloody not. I might be forced to do something stupid to entertain you.”
His hands reached for her face, tilting it back so her mouth was there for him to kiss. And when he did, a dark cloud that had been hanging over her for so long suddenly disappeared.
She pressed against his chest, remembering something. “What’s in that bag?”
Joseph gave a breathless laugh. “Oh hell. That.” He released her, picked up the bag where he’d dropped it by the door, and held it out to her. “A present for you, honey.”
Christie took it and pulled out a long, heavy box. Then she tugged the top of it and stared at the contents. A pair of Ugg boots.
“You’re kidding me,” she breathed. “No way.”
“Only the best for you, Naughtygirl.”
She looked up into his blue eyes. Saw in them everything she’d been secretly hoping for since the moment she’d first seen him. “Now I know you love me, Studman. Or should I call you Love Machine?”
He laughed and then maneuvered her over to the edge of Ben’s desk. “Didn’t we decide Love Machine was better? Now come on, Cinderella, let’s see if they fit.”
“Wait,” Christie said, putting a palm against the hard warmth of his chest. “I have a better idea.”
Joseph raised an eyebrow. “Tell me.”
Starting to feel breathless at her own daring, Christie went over to the door and with a certain amount of deliberation, locked it.
“Oh,” Joseph said softly. “That kind of idea. In your boss’s office? Are you sure?”
She turned around and met his hungry blue gaze. “Hey, they don’t call me Naughtygirl for nothing, remember?” And grinned. “Now can we see if the boots fit?”
They did.
And when everything else came off, Christie’s Ugg boots stayed firmly on.
Epilogue
LoveMachine230: Are you there, Naughtygirl?
Naughtygirl25: Of course. We’re not supposed to see each other, you know.
LoveMachine230: Since I can’t actually see you, I don’t think this counts.
Naughtygirl25: It counts. I know what’s going on in your head.
LoveMachine230: Oh really? And what’s that?
Naughtygirl25: Do I really need to remind you? Sheepskin rugs, lava lamps, Bloody Marys…Neil Diamond… Oh, and speaking of Neil Diamond, did you talk to Marisa about the music?
LoveMachine230: Yes, Bridezilla, I talked to Marisa about the music.
Naughtygirl25: I am NOT Bridezilla! And if you send me a smiley I’m going to kill you.
LoveMachine230: :-)
Naughtygirl25: You are so dead.
LoveMachine230: I can’t wait. Especially if all the angels in heaven look like you.
Naughtygirl25: You know it’s amazing you don’t fall down more often considering how slick you are.
LoveMachine230: And you love it.
Naughtygirl25: Yeah, I do. Does that make me lame?
LoveMachine230: No, that only proves you have excellent taste. Which reminds me, there better be Ugg boots happening underneath that gown of yours.
Naughtygirl25: Of course. Mum thinks I should be wearing white satin kitten heels but I told her it was white Ugg boots or nothing.
LoveMachine230: I bet she loved that. Actually I’ve just had another shoe idea. Which I’m not going to tell you.
Naughtygirl25: Spoilsport! Isn’t it me who should be having shoe ideas?
LoveMachine230: You’ll like it. I promise.
Naughtygirl25: I’d better. :-) And while we’re on the subject, I’m hoping for some hot leopard-print thong action myself.
LoveMachine230: You can hope, you may not get.
Naughtygirl25: Oh, come on. Don’t tease a girl like that.
LoveMachine230: You’ll find out. Tomorrow night.
Naughtgirl25: Damn. That means I have to sit through the whole wedding before I get to unwrap my present. On second thought, let’s not get married. Let’s just go on the honeymoon.
LoveMachine230: You don’t have to wait. You could unwrap your present first if you like. Tonight even.
Naughtygirl25: There’s a name for guys like you.
LoveMachine230: Tempting bastard?
Naughtygirl25: That’s one of them.
LoveMachine230: And I KNOW you love that, too.
Naughtygirl25: *blows kiss* Good-bye, tempting bastard. See you at the altar.
LoveMachine230: Not if I see you first. ;-)
Acknowledgements
This book has been four years in the making and the list of people I need to thank for its eventual arrival into the world are numerous.
First, my wonderful editor, Libby Murphy, for seeing the potential in my geek and her CEO, and helping them get their HEA.
Second, Paul, Tess, and Ruth for putting up with me while I worked.
Third, Mum and Tony for feeding me caffeine and biscuits, and providing the Wi-Fi while I was editing.
Fourth the Sisters, my wonderful crit group—Rachel, Robyn, Jane, Maisey, Jilly, Barbara, and Aideen—for listening to me moan and sharing my journey with me.
Fifth, Lorraine, my first CP and now Minx, who read the very first version of this story and thought it was great.
And last but not least, Dianne and Julian for providing the chair that I sat in while I rewrote this for fifty millionth time at a campground in Waipu Cove. It’s a little thing but when you’re in a tent and the only seating alternative is an airbed, and your wrists are killing you and you have a deadline, a good chair is a godsend.
About the Author
Jackie has been writing fiction since she was eleven years old. Mild-mannered fantasy/SF/pseudo-literary writer by day, obsessive romance writer by night, she used to balance her writing with the more serious job of librarian until a chance meeting with another romance writer prompted her to throw off the shackles of her day job and devote herself to the true love of her heart—writing romance. She particularly likes to write emotional stories with alpha heroes who’ve just got the world to their liking, only to have it blown wide apart by their kick-ass heroines.
She lives in Auckland, New Zealand, with her husband, the inimitable Dr. Jax, two kids, two cats, and some guppies (possibly dead guppies by the time you read this). When she’s not torturing alpha males and their stroppy heroines, she can be found drinking chocolate martinis, reading anything she can lay her hands on, posting random crap on her blog, or being forced to go mountain biking with her husband.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
About the Author