My Only Christmas Wish

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’Tis the season for passion

All Darcy Bennett wants for Christmas is for her family’s upscale Atlanta department store to stay in the family. No man, especially a stubborn—and deliciously sexy—Scrooge is going to edge her out without a fight. Bent on vengeance, new store owner Eli Austin has no problem using power to get his way. But is Darcy’s feminine charm and a dash of holiday cheer enough to convince Eli to let her keep her legacy?

In a world full of mergers and takeovers, Eli does what it takes to stay in control. However, he doesn’t count on the irresistible urge to unwrap Darcy like a holiday surprise. And he definitely isn’t prepared to compromise with a woman whose family destroyed his own. With the magic of Christmas surrounding them, will Darcy and Eli be able to put aside their differences and realize that love is the only gift worth wishing for?

She started to turn, and he laid a hand on her arm. She glanced up at him as his arm slipped around her and he kissed her.

Sensation exploded inside her, and she felt a rush of heat. Her brain had gone into total meltdown. For a second she was confused, but she felt her arms slip around his broad shoulders to pull him closer.

Dear God, he was addictive. His lips moved over hers slowly, as if he were savoring her feel. Her entire body was on fire. She heard him moan—or maybe it was her. In her passion-fogged brain, she wasn’t sure.

“Darcy.”

The way he whispered her name against her lips made her want more. “Yes.”

His lips stopped. And for a brief second she was suspended on a cloud of desire for him that was so totally unexpected she didn’t know what to think.

Then he pulled away. Her eyes fluttered open, and she saw the look of utter shock on his face. He stepped back. His mouth moved. “Forgive me,” he said, then walked away from her, leaving her openmouthed and confounded.

About the Author

J. M. JEFFRIES is the collaboration between two women who are lifelong romance-aholics. Jacqueline Hamilton grew up believing that life should always have a happy ending. Being a military brat, she has lived in some of the most romantic places in the world. An almost-lawyer, Jackie decided to chuck it all, live her dream and become a writer. Miriam Pace grew up believing in fairy tales and happy endings. With her Prince Charming, she had two amazing children and is now reading fairy tales to her grandchildren.

My Only Christmas Wish

J. M. Jeffries

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Dear Reader,

Too often we forget, during the hustle and bustle of Christmas, what a special time of the year it is, with the music, the special lights, the window displays in the stores and the special reverence we all have for the spiritual aspect. Christmas brings people together.

I hope you enjoy Darcy and Eli’s special Christmas. They are two people who experience the magic in very different ways. Darcy sees Christmas as an opportunity to help others. Eli sees it as just another obligation. Please join Darcy as she brings Christmas to life for him and they discover that love is the greatest gift of all.

Much love,

Jackie and Miriam

J. M. Jeffries

To our readers.

Thank you for your kind words and your support.

* * *

Jacqueline:

To my mom, Ingrid:

You always know the right things to say

when I need a kick in the pants or a hug.

To Miriam:

You always know how to talk me down from the ledge.

To Dyann:

You’ve become a great friend. Thank you.

Miriam:

To my husband, Parker:

The four years you’ve been gone have been

the longest years of my life. I miss you so much.

To my son, Jeff:

What a wonderful man you are.

Thank you for choosing Erin. I love you both.

To my daughter, Miriam:

Thank you for being a terrific daughter

and for bringing Peter and your two darling children into my life. I love you all.

To Jackie:

You’re amazing. Thank you.

To Dyann:

You help keep me sane at times.

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 1

Darcy Bennett stood in the foyer of Bennett’s watching the double-wide doors leading into her department store still firmly closed as the clock in the center rotunda ticked out the last minutes before the opening. Darcy tried to gauge the size of the crowd. Even to her eyes, she could see it wasn’t anywhere near as large as last year or even the year before. The economy was taking a huge bite out of the first shopping day of the Christmas season.

The first Friday after Thanksgiving used to be the most magical day for her. The anticipation of seeing all the Christmas decorations in place and knowing her favorite holiday was just around the corner always left Darcy feeling lighthearted and joyous. Today, she simply felt depressed.

She dreaded opening the doors and letting the customers in because she knew he was there—Mr. Dollar Bin himself, now the new owner of Bennett’s, the finest upscale department store in Atlanta—hell, in all of Georgia.

Mr. Eli Austin waited outside somewhere in the growing crowd probably looking at his watch as impatiently as Darcy watched the huge clock ticking off the seconds until 6:00 a.m. when the doors would open and the Christmas season officially began.

How could her mother do this to her? How could she sell Darcy’s legacy to that man? The only thing her mother couldn’t sell was the land the store stood on because Darcy owned it and no one was going to force her to sell no matter how hard Eli Austin’s lawyers had pressured her into doing so.

She glanced at the clock again, her stomach clenching so tightly thick pain radiated outward. In the space of only a few weeks, she’d lost her beloved grandfather, then her father had died unexpectedly from a massive heart attack, and her own marriage crumbled. She’d survived not because she wanted to, but because she had to. But this, the loss of her family’s legacy, she couldn’t see beyond. Bitterness was a huge knot in her chest. If only her father had had time to update his will, leaving the store to Darcy instead of to her mother, she wouldn’t be standing here waiting to officially hand over her store to the man who wanted to ruin it.

Rustling sounded behind her as the staff settled behind their counters or walked the floor putting a few final touches to the decorations. Perfume girls stood on either side of her with paper wands in their hands already sprayed with perfume. The cosmetic counters were perfect. Roxy was setting out her makeup brushes and making sure every last detail was in place at her Clinique station. The new girl at the MAC station looked uncomfortable and worried as she moved the display in front of her around to show it to better advantage, and then moved it back. Darcy sent her an encouraging smile. The girl smiled back, though strain showed in her eyes.

The store decorations were festive with white artificial trees, each one representing a different country. Unlike most stores, which started decorating before Halloween, Bennett’s kept to tradition, unveiling their decorations only the day after Thanksgiving. She and her grandfather had always started planning the store decorations from the moment the year ended until the next Christmas rolled around again. They involved all the employees and now each department had a competition to see who had the best ornamentation with the mayor of Atlanta acting as the judge.

The clock chimed the opening bell. Two men, dressed in nutcracker costumes from the ballet, walked slowly forward in a dignified cadence, unlocked the doors and slowly backed up. As the doors swung open, the costumed men raised their trumpets to their mouths and blew the opening notes to The Nutcracker.

For a second, the crowd outside the doors hesitated, looking around in delight. Then everyone dashed in. People parted in waves around Darcy as they rushed off to whatever department they wanted, searching for bargains, looking over merchandise, consulting their Christmas lists. Women with toddlers still asleep in their strollers surged into the store. Men with briefcases followed more sedately, but they, too, looked around and delight showed in their eyes.

Darcy stood completely still waiting—her heart in her throat, nerves dancing a pattern of stress up and down her arms. Just as she thought maybe Eli Austin would wait and not show until after the crowd had thinned, he walked in the door, paused to look around, and then fastened his gaze on Darcy.

For a second, Darcy forgot to breathe. There he was, Eli Austin, the new owner of Bennett’s—the man who held her future in his hands, the man who’d sent his lawyers to broker the sale while he stood in the background waiting and watching. Darcy had managed to avoid him, leaving most of the details to her mother and stepfather’s lawyers. She tried to relax and smile confidently at him but the stern look on his face stopped her.

Eli Austin was taller than she expected. He wore a camel-hair coat with a matching scarf around his neck. He ran a gloved hand through his hair and the curls settled back in order. As he studied Darcy, he removed his leather gloves one finger at a time. Not only was he Mr. I Own Every Dollar Bin in America himself in the flesh, but damn, he was the handsomest brother she’d seen in a long time with his caramel-colored skin, velvety brown eyes and thick brown hair. A flash of heat swept over her so strong she almost gasped.

Eli Austin stuffed his gloves into the pocket of his coat, unbuttoned it and then removed his scarf to reveal a suave, sophisticated dark blue pin-striped suit and a white shirt with a blue-and-red power tie. A little mustache action showing on his upper lip added a distinguished look to his face.

Darcy’s heart skipped a beat, and then sped up, spreading the hot flush across her cheeks. Her breath caught in her throat. His photographs didn’t do him justice.

“Ms. Bennett,” he said, cordially holding out his hand.

“Mr. Austin,” she replied as she shook his hand, refusing to be intimidated by his cool appraisal. Her tone was as reserved and dignified as she could make it even as her emotions seethed and roiled underneath her skin.

She was not going to let her mother’s betrayal get the best of her. She suspected that the hurt over her mother’s lack of respect for Darcy’s grandfather’s sacrifices in creating this store and making it a legend would never go away. Especially considering how much Darcy loved it.

Eli Austin’s fingers were warm, and she could feel a faint ridge of calluses along his index finger. His grip was firm, not too strong, not too weak—just enough to let her know he was in charge of this meeting.

That’s okay, she was a reed and she could bend, Darcy thought. A reed, she repeated. She was going to chart her path through the chaos. That was what she did best. That was who she was. She would do her sniveling in private.

“As much as I enjoy the day after Thanksgiving…” she said, a little disappointed she wasn’t going to be able to mingle with the crowd and watch what they looked at or bought. She learned a lot about buying habits just by observing her customers. “I think we should go to my office where we can have some privacy.” She started toward the elevator expecting him to follow, but when she arrived, she turned and found him still standing where she’d left him.

Eli Austin looked around the store, a smug, pleased look on his face that told her he was enjoying the moment. She headed back to him.

“Are you all right, Mr. Austin?” she asked.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve been inside Bennett’s at Christmastime.” His gaze roamed the floor.

“Really,” she said astonished. “Why not? You don’t shop locally?” She had a vision of cheap, little Dollar Bin stockings hanging from his mantel with Dollar Bin gifts inside.

“That sounds like an accusation.”

She studied him, expecting him to answer her questions, but he seemed disinclined to continue. “I hope you’re impressed.”

“Very.” He looked around again.

As customers gazed up at the lavish decorations, Eli Austin watched them. Darcy glanced at her watch. The morning was going to be long, and she still had a number of things to finish before Santa arrived at noon with his entourage of children and ballet dancers performing vignettes from The Nutcracker ballet throughout the store.

“Our decorations are considered the best in Atlanta, the most famous in the South.” She tried to keep annoyance out of her voice. He may be the new owner of Bennett’s, but the work didn’t stop for his convenience.

“I know that,” he said, his gaze chilly and detached as he watched a man point at something in a display case. The clerk bent to open the case and remove the man’s requested item. The clerk spread a silk scarf on the counter while the customer bent over it.

“Some traditions must be upheld despite the dip in the economy, Mr. Austin.”

A look of disapproval crossed his face and Darcy knew Christmas was never going to be the same again. She knew bad blood existed between her family and his. What had happened, she didn’t know, but she had hoped he didn’t carry a grudge. Obviously, she was wrong. She was going to have to unpack her suitcase full of charm today, not wanting him to know how angry she was at her mother and stepfather’s selling of the store. She wasn’t going to let this change of ownership defeat her. The words became a mantra as she headed back to the elevator with Mr. Eli Austin in tow.

The doors to the elevator opened and Silas, the elevator operator, smiled at Darcy. “Mornin’, Miss Darcy,” he said with a little tilt of his head. Silas was nearly eighty-one years old and started working at Bennett’s right out of high school. Darcy had watched the cap of kinky hair on his head turn from black to gray to snow white. He’d always been tall and strong, and in her eyes handsome, but now he was a little stooped and his clear brown eyes had clouded slightly. His red jacket hung a little on his slight frame and one hand had developed a slight tremor. But no matter what, he was always at his post.

Silas had patched up her bruised knees and told her stories about all his years running the elevators at Bennett’s. He could have retired, but Darcy wouldn’t consider Bennett’s the same without him. So he stayed while the other elevators had been changed over to automatic.

“Good morning, Silas,” she said. “Have you heard anything yet?” She crossed her fingers, knowing how much the old man doted on his only granddaughter.

“Yes, we did,” Silas said with a twinkle in his eyes.

“Don’t leave me in anticipation,” she said as she rested a hand on the antique-brass railing that surrounded the cabin. The elevator was beautiful with a marble floor, mahogany paneling and polished brass accents. Not one fingerprint ever marred them.

“Cornell and UC Davis,” he said with pride.

She felt a glow of pride. “Which one is your granddaughter going to choose?”

“She has a couple weeks to decide,” Silas replied. “I’m thinking she’s leaning toward UC Davis.”

She put her hand in her pocket and pulled out an envelope. “I’ve been carrying this around for a couple weeks.” She handed the envelope to him.

Silas opened it and glanced at the check inside. “This is too much, Ms. Darcy.” He tried to hand it back to her.

“No, it’s not. Veterinary school is expensive and your granddaughter is going to need every penny she can get.”

He stuffed the envelope in his pocket, then closed the old-fashioned elevator doors, sat back down on his stool and toggled the stick. The elevator hummed as it moved upward.

She could feel Mr. Austin’s disapproval as he stared at Silas. His face was scrunched up as he studied the elderly man in his spotlessly clean gray-and-red Bennett’s uniform.

Silas was a fixture in the store. When Darcy had been a child, Silas had taught her how to run the elevator and let her sit on his stool and pretend to be him.

The elevator came to a smooth stop, and Silas opened the doors to the office floor. Darcy stepped out and led the way down the long stretch of hallway to her office. She opened the door and stepped inside.

Her office was small and cluttered with file folders piled on the old wooden desk. File cabinets lined one wall and a small window looked out over a portion of the street. The only modern conveniences in the room were the updated phones and the thoroughly comfortable office chair behind the desk.

Eli walked in behind her and looked around. “The last time I was here, I met your stepfather in a completely different office. Yours is—so—”

Her stepfather’s office had been for show. Hers was for work. She laughed even as her office walls seemed to crowd in on her. “Efficient, small,” she finished for him. “I don’t spend any more time here than I have to.” She picked a stack of folders off a chair and set them on the floor in a corner suddenly conscious of the mess and the fact that with him standing so close to her she felt breathless and annoyed at the same time.

“Surveying your empire,” he said, a hint of sarcasm in his tone.

She gave him a sharp glance. “You could say that, but usually I fill in working a register, or fitting some shoes. Department store…uh…stuff.”

Darcy knew Bennett’s from the ground up. Every summer when she was off from school, she’d worked in a different department, from restocking to theft prevention, maintenance to food service and returns. She’d even learned to operate a forklift on the docks. Her grandfather had demanded she understand how Bennett’s worked no matter how small the details. He demanded she know every man and woman who worked at Bennett’s. She didn’t have to be their friend, but she did have to understand their needs and concerns. Happy employees made for a better store.

From the day she could walk, Darcy had explored every nook and cranny from the littlest hidey-hole in the subbasements to the air-conditioning vents on the roof. She’d worked valet parking and scraped gum off the parking lot concrete. She’d scrubbed elevators, restrooms and changed out toilet paper. There wasn’t any place or anyone in the store she didn’t know.

Eli seated himself on one of the two chairs in front of her desk while she struggled to get around her desk to sit on her chair. Maybe she could have opted for a slightly larger office, but so much of the running of the store was done elsewhere. All department managers reported to the general manager who reported to her. And if she needed to talk to someone, she had a tendency to go to their office rather than demand they come to her. She wasn’t into power plays.

The door burst open and hit the back of Eli’s chair. He fell forward with the momentum, first looking surprised, and then irritated at the interruption.

“Ms. Darcy. Ms. Darcy.” Clara Shaw, the Santa parade coordinator, burst into the room wringing her hands.

Clara was a tiny woman with glasses perched at the end of a narrow nose and a snowy-white Gibson Girl bun at the top of her neck with pencils stuck into it for easy access. Christmas was her main focus every year. Since Darcy’s grandfather’s death, Clara had become the sole coordinator of all the seasonal projects. Clara, like Silas, was a fixture at Bennett’s.

“What’s wrong, Clara?” Darcy asked calmly. For Clara everything that didn’t work properly was a cause for drama. Drama Darcy didn’t have time for today.

Eli leaped to his feet, his arms outstretched as though he expected Clara to faint dead away.

Clara held up her hands, tears leaking out of her crinkled blue eyes. “Santa, Santa…he fell down and…and broke his leg,” she wailed. “What are we going to do? He’s been our Santa for…for thirty-five years.” She ended her statement on a dramatic up note that told Darcy she was truly upset. The woman was as high-strung as a poodle on espresso, but she was the best seasonal coordinator in the business.

Darcy put a hand on the older woman’s shoulder. “Clara, take a breath.” Darcy inhaled, and Clara followed her. She couldn’t stop a little smile when she realized Eli was doing the same thing. Darcy’s father had stolen Clara from Saks Fifth Avenue more than twenty-five years ago, and Saks had been trying to lure her back ever since.

“What will we do?” Clara asked, brushing tears from her eyes. Her mouth was tight with stress.

“You’re going to call his son,” Darcy responded calmly. “Daniel retired from the police force this year and he’s been waiting for ten years to be Santa. Tell him this is his big, shining moment.”

Clara put a hand to her pale cheek. “I knew you would know what to do. You’ve saved Christmas.”

Eli grinned at Darcy and she found herself grinning back. She could see he understood all about Clara. Clara was…well, Clara. She fussed, worried and fussed some more and in the end everything always turned out much better than expected.

Clara left, searching through her pockets for her cell phone. Darcy closed the door. “You’ll have to excuse Clara. She gets a little excited this time of year. Now where were we?”

Eli looked around. “So tell me why you are in this little room and not in a big, ostentatious and pretentious office like your stepfather.”

“Because I like to think I was raised properly and hopefully words like ostentatious and pretentious will never be used to describe me,” she answered. “I do hope you aren’t planning on occupying his office because it’s the new day care center. It was the perfect size.”

“I recall reading something about a day care center. I didn’t realize it would be that office.”

“Did you have plans for it?”

“Apparently not,” he replied.

She knew he’d decided on today for the takeover, thinking she would be too preoccupied with the Christmas season to pay attention to him. “Don’t worry, I found a great office for you. Right next to mine and it’s even bigger by all of three feet.”

“You’re not going to allow me to be ostentatious or pretentious, are you?” Amusement showed in his eyes.

“You’re the head honcho of the Dollar Bin empire and one would think you know the value of a lean, mean operation.” She studied him in his handmade, pin-striped suit that had “private English tailor” written all over it. He flaunted his money and his power, albeit discreetly, which she could appreciate. “I’m assuming you want to talk to me about the changes you intend to make to Bennett’s. I would be happy to listen to anything you have to suggest in making this store more efficient and profitable without damaging our customer expectations.”