Texas Christmas

ALL SHE WANTS FOR CHRISTMAS...

Busted! When Pepper Merriweather’s superwealthy daddy is arrested for fraud—and the family fortune is kaput—just before the holidays, Pepper suddenly finds herself in need of a job. Despite her high-society connections, no one wants to give her a chance—no one except gorgeous billionaire recluse Robert Macintyre.

When he proposes a position that comes with more strings attached than a symphony orchestra, Pepper knows it’s an offer she should refuse. But beggars can’t be choosers. Besides, Pepper knows she has what it takes to rise to the challenge—but does she have what it takes to keep her hands off her irresistible new boss?

The woman was smart. She had quick wit and a sharp take on life. She also happened to be incredibly beautiful.

Her looks were simply a bonus.

He extended his hand. “Welcome aboard. When can you start?”

She shook his hand. “Tomorrow?”

“Great. Do you have time to stop by HR to do the paperwork right now? That way we can get the formalities out of the way.”

They paused by his office door and he could smell her perfume—a hint of roses and spice. She smelled so good, he had to resist the urge to lean in.

Brand me inappropriate all day long.

Now that he’d brought her on board, he would be able to put his business hat back on and be her boss. Strictly her boss, which meant no fraternizing.

But that didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy looking at her.

Dear Reader,

The James Lane Allen quote “Adversity does not build character—it reveals it” was a big inspiration for this story. I started thinking about what it would be like to start over after losing everything. Even more so, what would it be like to have it all and lose everything?

That’s what happens to Pepper Merriweather, the heroine of Texas Christmas, the third book in the Celebrations, Inc., series. When the collapse of her father’s empire leaves a stain on the family name, Pepper has no choice but to start over and rebuild her life. In doing so, she discovers she’s capable of a whole lot more than she originally thought possible.

When society turns its back on Pepper, Rob Macintyre knows she isn’t responsible for her father’s sins. With his help, Pepper learns that losing everything is the start to excavating what is important.

I hope you enjoy reading Texas Christmas as much as I enjoyed writing it. Please drop me a line at nrobardsthompson@yahoo.com to let me know what you think.

Warmly,

Nancy Robards Thompson

Texas Christmas

Nancy Robards Thompson

www.millsandboon.co.uk

NANCY ROBARDS THOMPSON

Award-winning author Nancy Robards Thompson is a sister, wife and mother who has lived the majority of her life south of the Mason-Dixon line. As the oldest sibling, she reveled in her ability to make her brother laugh at inappropriate moments, and she soon learned she could get away with it by proclaiming, “What? I wasn’t doing anything.” It’s no wonder that upon graduating from college with a degree in journalism, she discovered that reporting “just the facts” bored her silly. Since she hung up her press pass to write novels full-time, critics have deemed her books “funny, smart and observant.” She loves chocolate, champagne, cats and art (though not necessarily in that order). When she’s not writing, she enjoys spending time with her family, reading, hiking and doing yoga.

This book is dedicated to Elizabeth Grainger,

whose thoughtful critiquing and generous sharing

helped make me a better writer.

You will be missed, but never forgotten.

Contents

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Epilogue

Excerpt

Prologue

Maya LeBlanc dusted the batch of white chocolate truffles with a sprinkle of crushed pink rose petals and edible gold dust. As the glittering potpourri rained down from her fingertips, she infused it with a love wish.

The rose petals represented passion and romance, of course. The gold dust, which shimmered in the sunlight that streamed in through the window on the stucco wall above Maya’s marble-topped worktable, was for prosperity. And, as if the fine golden powder were in cahoots with the intention at the heart of her handiwork, it shimmered and winked up at her conspiratorially.

Europeans had a long-standing love affair with edible gold. Alchemists believed it was good for the heart. Royalty adorned fruits and other delicacies with it to sustain the health of their hearts. The Elizabethans created sumptuous banquets by adding edible gold dust to fruits such as oranges, grapes, pomegranates and dates and figs.

But Maya’s creation was intended for loftier purposes than feeding royals; it was meant to conjure true love.

Ardent, passionate love.

The thought warmed Maya from the inside out, and she smiled with quiet satisfaction as she stepped back to admire her handiwork.

Yes, this was a particularly beautiful batch of chocolate. However, just who would receive the dozen bonbons wasn’t quite clear...yet.

The answer had not yet revealed itself, but it would come in due time. Of that, Maya was sure. There was no mistaking that the winds of love had danced around her this morning as she’d walked down the ancient cobblestone streets of St. Michel on her way to open the shop. When the winds had called her to action, there was no resting until she’d filled the heavenly order. She wouldn’t rest until she’d done everything in her power to bring the intendeds together.

Whoever these intendeds might be.

Excitement, shimmering as brightly as the gold dust, shook her. Finding the lucky couple who belonged to these chocolates would be the reward for her hard work.

But first things first. Right now, she had to finish her work. Since the truffles weren’t quite set, she pondered whether or not she should add another element...or two, perhaps? Maya surveyed the bunches of twine-tied dried herbs and flowers hanging from wrought-iron rods suspended above her workbench. There was lavender that had dried to a wiry grayish-purple, looking like veins that stood out on an old crone’s hand. Lavender denoted purity, silence, devotion and...caution.

Non. It didn’t fit. Maya’s intuitive heart insisted that that this batch of chocolat was intended for true love that thrived on passion. Lovers whom fate would send careening toward each other; a lovely collision resulting in two hearts becoming one. She sighed in breathless delight, her hand fluttering to her heart.

Caution would never do.

Her gaze lingered on several fat bunches of rosemary that were bound so tightly they bristled out like small hedgehogs. Rosemary signified remembrance. While it was a sweet sentiment, it didn’t quite fit this order, either. Besides, the robust fragrance would overpower the delicate rosewater she’d used in the recipe.

Non. She gave her head a resolute shake. Rosemary wouldn’t do, either.

She purposely averted her gaze from the bouquet of dried yellow chrysanthemums because that flower meant love slighted. It wasn’t as if merely looking at the flowers would infuse the chocolates with bad juju, but when crafting an aromatic enticement for something so delicate as l’amour du cœur, one could never be too careful.

Maya, of all people, knew that. As a third generation chocolatier and un marieur—a matchmaker—she listed chocolate and love, not necessarily in that order, as her passions. But chocolate paid the bills and afforded her the pleasure of answering the call when the winds of love blew in, summoning her to work. It was a challenge she couldn’t resist, and she wouldn’t rest until her job was done.

In the realm of matchmaking, many factors were out of Maya’s control. With that in mind, she’d adopted the philosophy that she was simply the messenger. Still, she always approached her work with care and vigilance, because matters of the heart were as delicate and fragile as spun sugar.

Her gaze danced over the dried flowers and herbs one last time. When nothing spoke to her, she went completely still for a moment and listened to the communiqué her heart had been receiving since she’d awoken that morning with the urgency to whip up this special concoction.

Keep it simple. Rose petals and gold dust. Fini.

As she opened her eyes she was compelled to pick up one more pinch of gold. She blew it off her fingertips, infusing it with another wish and a prayer...for true love of the purest, most selfless sort.

Chapter One

As Pepper Merriweather entered the shop, a sudden, strong gust of December wind blew in, rocking the sign that was adorned with garland and red Christmas ornaments and hung above the shop’s door. It read Maya’s Chocolates ~ Happily Ever After Starts Here. The wind ballooned the lace curtains on the window and made the bells on the door dance with extra life. Pepper tightened her grip on the brass handle so the glass door wouldn’t slam back against the building’s ancient stone facade.

The momentary struggle felt like she was arm-wrestling with Mother Nature. When the biting wind finally let up, it felt good to prevail, as if fate were finally cutting her a break.

Silly thought, she mused, as she stepped inside and eased the door shut. The last thing she wanted to do these days was draw attention to herself. Sheepishly, she glanced around the shop. To her relief, the cluttered sales floor proved to be as empty as the cobblestone street behind her.

Despite the principality being dressed in all its Christmas finery and like something from a medieval holiday fairy tale, December was the off-season in St. Michel. Mostly the locals were the lucky ones to enjoy the twinkle lights strung from building to building, the giant, decorated Christmas tree that stood as the centerpiece in the center of town, and the shop windows all decorated for Christmas. The decorations always went up on December first, rain or shine.

During the cold months, foot traffic was lighter in the quaint little village. That’s why it had been such a great escape for Pepper, and also why Maya was usually the only one tending the store. That was probably why Pepper didn’t see anyone standing behind the counter or out on the floor of the small shop.

“Bonjour?” she called. As if answering, the wind outside gusted another chanson. The shop sign creaked in harmony with the blustery phrases.

“Bonjour!” a muffled voice answered, trailing from the back room. “I’ll be right with you.”

Pepper stepped away from the door, and a quiet calm settled over the shop. She glanced around at the baker’s racks, rough-hewn wooden tables and glass and wrought-iron fixtures that held red-and-green cellophane-wrapped boxes and baskets filled with Maya’s handmade delicacies. The Christmas packages were in addition to the à la carte candies displayed behind the glassed-in counter. There, chocolate lovers could create their own magical mix of cordials, truffles or pieces of pure, rich chocolate. Souvenir candy shopping was exactly what Pepper had come to do before returning home to Texas. Well, she’d come to do a little Christmas shopping and to say goodbye.

Stopping to admire a towering display of holiday fudge, Pepper was overcome by doubt—was she really ready to leave St. Michel to return to Texas?

Pepper’s mother, who had fled to St. Michel with her daughter, planned to stay in Europe indefinitely—at least until the furor over the scandal died down. But Pepper had grown restless. It was time to go home. Time to reclaim her life. Or at least that was what she’d told herself when she’d started out on foot that morning.

The producers of the reality television show Catering to Dallas, of which she was a cast member, had been wonderful about granting her a short leave as she tried to make sense of the turn of events that had landed her father in jail and sent her mother into hiding. The press had been hounding Pepper, too, and at first, St. Michel seemed like the perfect place to seek sanctuary. But as her father sat in prison—denied bail because the judge deemed him a flight risk—it hadn’t taken long for the press to catch up with Pepper and her mother.

The turning point had come when her father’s lawyer had relayed a message to Pepper on behalf of her father: the longer she hid away, the worse the collapse of the family’s Texas Star empire made them look. In other words, the family looked guilty by sequestering themselves. Of course, that was ridiculous because neither she nor her mother had anything to do with Texas Star Energy. It was merely guilt by association. The media and the masses couldn’t get to Pepper’s father, Harris Merriweather. The next best thing was to flog the family members.

His attorney, Ethan Webster, had provided money for a return ticket home. Pepper had made a deal with him. She would go back to Texas, but her mother, Marjory, would remain in St. Michel. Her father was right. There was no reason she should remain in hiding.

Besides, the news of Texas Star’s demise alleged internal corruption and spawned fears that thousands would suffer financial devastation from the collapse that had sent shock waves around the world.

Pepper had begun to go stir-crazy. Here, she had taken to leaving at odd hours in an attempt to dodge the paparazzi. Some mornings—like this one—it worked. Many times it didn’t. She might as well hide in the comfort of her own home and try to work out a way that she could return to her place on Catering to Dallas. If that was possible. And if it wasn’t...

The future uncertainty felt a little overwhelming, but this morning the coziness of Maya’s quaint little chocolate shop felt...safe.

Still, she couldn’t hide out forever. The faster she got home and resumed her normal life, the faster this nightmare would come to an end. Her father’s lawyers would help him prove his innocence, and the Merriweathers’ lives would return to normal—well, as normal as they’d ever been.

Since her mother insisted on remaining in St. Michel, it was Pepper’s duty to set the public tone, and that began with going home.

First order of business would be to go see her father and strategize. She’d asked his main attorney, Ethan Webster, to arrange for a visit as soon as she got home. She needed to know how she could best help her father, and the best way to do that was to ask the man himself.

Even though they were in the midst of a family crisis, Pepper couldn’t help feeling hopeful—that perhaps this was her opportunity to finally forge a relationship with her father.

At thirty-three years old, this might be her opportunity to set the past twenty-seven rocky years right.

Actually, the more she thought about it, rocky wasn’t really a good description of their father-daughter relationship.

Neutral was more like it.

Detached. Disengaged. Disconnected.

Maybe now things could change.

Pepper took a deep breath, inhaling the sweet scent of cocoa and cinnamon and something...floral? Was that a hint of rose she detected? Before she could tell, the delicious notes melded into a mélange of scrumptiousness that made Pepper’s mouth water...and her heart ache in peculiar, unfamiliar longing. Her hand fluttered to her chest.

What was wrong with her? This wasn’t about leaving St. Michel or returning home. Was it?

Dear God, not another anxiety attack.

No, she was okay...she breathed in deeply. Sometimes the smell of chocolate worked better than Xanax.

This morning, she’d been drawn to the shop like a bee to a flower... Well, more like a chocoholic drawn to the best darn chocolate in the world.

As Maya appeared through the part in the deep cranberry-colored brocade curtains that concealed the back of the shop from the front of the house, she wiped her fingertips on a white linen tea towel.

“Ah! Bonjour, Pepper! I thought that might be you.” She set the cloth on the counter, then briskly brushed her hands together, beaming a gigantic smile as radiant as the French summer sun. The simple gesture warmed Pepper from the inside out.

“Good morning!” Pepper swiped at a wisp of blond hair that the earlier gust of wind had blown out of place.

“What brings you out on this cold, blustery day, mon amie?” Maya stepped from behind the counter and greeted her friend with kisses on both cheeks. “Regardless, I am so happy to see you. You don’t need a reason to pay me a visit. I will get you some hot chocolate to help warm you up, oui?”

Before Pepper could answer, the redhead had turned and was already heading to the small burner behind the case where she prepared the warm, rich beverages.

“Maya, what is that floral scent I smell in here this morning?”

Maya whipped around to look at Pepper and tilted her head to the side, a curious little grin lifting the edges of her mouth. “You can smell that?”

Pepper nodded. “Yes. It sort of smells like...roses.”

Maya set down the copper bottom saucepan she was holding. “One moment, I’ll be right back.”

She disappeared behind the purple curtain, only to return quickly with a rectangular pink-and-black box tied with black ribbon—her shop’s signature packaging.

Maya’s eyes sparkled as she held it out to Pepper. “These are for you, my dear.”

It was Pepper’s turn to gaze at Maya curiously. “Well, thank you. Actually, I have come to purchase some chocolate. But not for myself. It’s for friends. Back home.” Pepper took a deep breath as she stared down at the pretty box. Finally, she squared her shoulders. “Maya, I’m leaving. I’ve actually come to say goodbye.”

Maya responded with a resolute nod, but Pepper sensed her stoic mask hid something else. She could see a certain glint in her friend’s eyes.

She shrugged it off, however, chalking it up to her own sadness and uncertainty.

“So, that means if I come home without a suitcase full of treasures from your shop, I will be run out of town on a rail.” She shrugged again and a little hiccup of a laugh escaped before she could stop it. “Although others may run me out of town anyway, but I’ll put up a valiant fight to stay. And possibly bribe them with chocolate.”

She grimaced. Perhaps bribe wasn’t such a good word choice since her family name was implicated in a financial scandal.

Since Pepper’s father had never been to St. Michel, the small European principality had been a good sanctuary for her and her mother. When they were here, they were surrounded by good people and good friends. They were staying with Pepper’s boarding school buddy, Margeaux Broussard Lejardin, whose sister-in-law just happened to be the queen of St. Michel.

Despite the scandal, Margeaux had welcomed them with open arms, insisting they stay as long as they liked in the small two-bedroom guest cottage on the grounds of the estate where she lived with her husband, Henri.

But it was time to go home. Even Maya seemed to understand that.

“Mon amie, as much as I would love for you to stay in St. Michel permanently, I’ve said all along that you have nothing to be ashamed of, nothing to fear. You should not let narrow-minded people convict you for a crime you did not commit.”

Pepper nodded, fighting the protective impulse that was bubbling up inside her, the part of her that wanted to defend her father—wanted to make sure that Maya wasn’t implying that her dad was guilty. He hadn’t been to trial yet, and Pepper would maintain that he was innocent until proven otherwise. But Maya had been a dear friend and because of that, Pepper checked the urge to ask the woman to clarify what she meant.

Instead, she said, “That’s why it’s time for me to go. But first I need chocolate, Maya. No matter how broke a girl is, she should always treat herself to the best chocolate in the world.”

Maya’s smile returned. “Of course, my lovely. But before we tend to that task, I want you to take a look inside the box I just gave you.”

Carefully, Pepper untied the black organza ribbon that adorned the package. As she lifted the lid, revealing a dozen white truffles dusted with dried flowers and gold dust, the unmistakable rose scent she’d smelled earlier wafted out, making her mouth water and her heart beat a little faster.

“Maya, these are beautiful. Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome. I made them just for you. A going-away present.”

Pepper smiled. “But you didn’t know I was leaving until just a moment ago.”

The glimmer had returned to Maya’s eyes again, and for a split second Pepper wondered if somehow her friend had, in fact, known before she’d told her. But that would be impossible. Wouldn’t it?

“Yes, but I knew you were leaving sometime, my dear friend. Pepper, you have too much to offer. Keeping yourself locked away from the world is the crime. Let these chocolates be symbolic of everything sweet, rich and passionate that you deserve in your life. When you take the first bite of this chocolate, I want you to hold in your mind a picture of your heart’s desire and then go out there and claim it for your own.”

Outside, the wind resumed its ominous song, and the shop’s sign danced along in perfect time. From where Pepper stood next to the window, she had a clear view of the midnight-blue placard with its crackled paint and golden lettering: Maya’s Chocolates ~ Happily Ever After Starts Here.

An odd sensation coursed through her veins and she glanced down at the box in her hands, full of Maya’s beautiful handiwork.

Why not?

Maya nodded. “Try one.”

Pepper picked up a truffle and made a wish for her very own happily-ever-after.

Chapter Two

The flight from Paris barely made it to the gate at JFK International Airport in time for Pepper to go through customs, recheck her luggage and catch her connecting flight home. Delays leaving Charles De Gaulle Airport out of Paris had cut it dangerously close for her to catch the red-eye home. Yet, luck was on her side. She was one of the last passengers to board the plane bound for the Dallas/Fort Worth International Airport.

Once onboard, she struggled to stash her carry-on in the overhead compartment, astounded that there was still space available at this late hour. Thank goodness Ethan had purchased her a ticket in business class where the seats were generous and they weren’t packed in like sardines.

The man who was sitting in the seat directly below the compartment she was claiming tossed the black cowboy hat he’d been holding on his lap onto the seat next to him, stood while doing an agile bend and dip to avoid whacking his head on the overhead console and unfolded to his full height in front of her.

“Here, let me help you with that, ma’am.”

Ma’am? Only because she detected a slight Texas twang in his speech did she not take offense to him calling her ma’am. Instead, she chose to think, What a gentleman.

“Thank you,” she said as she looked up into brown eyes as dark and rich as Maya’s chocolates. They contrasted sharply with his spiky, sandy-blond hair. Good-looking guy. Polite, too, she thought.

And he was tall. Very tall. Probably six-four. The big, manly cowboy variety, with long, jean-clad legs and broad shoulders that flexed underneath his blue oxford cloth shirt as he lifted and stowed the bag in one fluid motion.