CHRISTMAS KISSES FOR A DOLLAR

by Laurie Paige

Overview

The one sale he couldn't resist…

As soon as rancher Jon Sinclair put down his twenty dollars at a kissing booth, florist Anne Hyden knew she was in for it. Mr. Sex-in-Pants certainly wasn't the type to settle for a quick little peck. But Anne wasn't expecting to actually swoon in the guy's arms.

Unfortunately, Anne had a problem. She had a heart condition that ensured her life was as dull and safe as it could get—and Jon was hardly "safe." In fact, he was just the sort of guy to make a girl's heart give out altogether. And she still owed him nineteen more kisses….

Product Details

ISBN-13:	9781460363294
Publisher:	Harlequin
Publication date:	11/15/2014
Sold by:	HARLEQUIN
Format:	eBook
Pages:	192
File size:	700 KB

Read an Excerpt

Christmas Kisses—$1.00

Jonathan Sinclair smiled at the provocative banner wafting in the December breeze. The sign, attached to two trees, floated over a booth wreathed in holly and cedar boughs. The occasion appeared to be an old-fashioned bazaar in the school yard.

He stopped at a red light and used the opportunity to assess the group waiting to buy a kiss. The line was long. He couldn't see the woman from this angle, but the guys were young—some of them teenagers, he guessed, in line on a dare from their friends, most likely—while the rest were probably in their twenties, maybe thirties.

All single, he assumed. They didn't have the look of men who were shackled to shrews, which, from his observations of life, were what women became once they got a man to the altar.

Or even before, as his own experience proved. A shudder ran clear down to his toes as he remembered his close call in this very town. He'd been eighteen when the girl next door, who'd been twenty, had tried to trap him into marriage with the oldest trick in the book. Few people had believed he'd been innocent as he'd claimed.

It had been a learning experience. He went on the alert when women came on to him in too friendly a manner, and he suspected ulterior motives behind their smiles.

The light changed. He waited with resigned patience for the crowd to amble past the lined crosswalk. When the street was clear, he turned the corner.

Everyone in the county was in town for the festivities, it seemed. He grimaced at his poor timing and looked for a parking space near the feed-and-seed store. The fertilizer he'd ordered last week was in. All he wanted was to pick it up and get back to the ranch.

The ranch. Three hundred acres of pines and pasture, two hundred head of cattle and a commercial plant nursery.

He'd never expected to inherit the place although he'd loved it as a kid. He'd lit out on his own right after high school, off to see the world. His parents had been upset, but they hadn't tried to stop him. They'd understood his restlessness.

Sorrow momentarily overshadowed the bright day. They'd died last spring in a flash flood, a known hazard in Texas. He still couldn't believe they were gone. Life was short....

He directed his thoughts to the present. He intended to revive the successful ranch operation his grandfather had run. Once the place was booming again, he'd sell the whole works, make some money and head out for parts unknown.

That was what he was good at—fixing up a rundown enterprise and selling it at a profit, then moving on. He'd learned to do that well in the years he'd been on his own and had made a good-size fortune by speculating in floundering companies. Of course he'd lost a bundle, too.

He spotted a parking space and whipped into it before the guy in the fancy car who was also eyeing the spot could beat him to it. With a triumphant grin of one-upmanship, Jon leapt to the ground from the pickup.

The breeze, straight off the Gulf of Mexico, gave him a damp caress. He'd been living in the far west where spit dried before it hit the ground. Here, thirty miles up Highway 12 from Beaumont, Texas, the air was humid year-round. It took a while to get used to that again.

Laughter from the cowboys lined up for the kisses caught his attention. He paused and glanced over the bed of the pickup to see what was going on...and stopped dead still. Then he simply stared at the woman who stood in the booth.

She was the loveliest, sexiest creature he'd ever seen.

Her hair was black—pure raven black. The sun glinted off it with no hints of red or blond in the deep waves that cascaded over her shoulders. It invited a man to sink his hands into it, to tangle his fingers in the long, shiny strands...to use it to hold her while he dropped kisses all over her mouth.

Her smile was radiant, her lips full and luscious. She wore a rosy-red lipstick, but he was willing to bet the color in her cheeks was natural.

It was her eyes that made her irresistible. They were blue with a touch of gray and maybe violet. He couldn't tell for sure from this distance. Her lashes were long and black, weighting the lids and giving her a languorous air...as if she'd recently climbed out of bed after making the most tempestuous love a man could imagine.

His body surged to life at the thought.

Yeah, he could see what the big attraction was. If the line hadn't been so long, he might have been tempted to join it.

Shaking his head at his own foolishness, he crossed the street to the store. It was locked. The sign in the window said the owner was at the bazaar and would open again at one.

Jon glanced at his watch. Five after twelve. He might as well eat lunch. If anything was open. For all he knew, the whole town had closed down to attend the event.

He headed across the street toward the school yard where there were several food booths. He spotted a hot-dog stand run by the rotary club. A sign explained that the proceeds of the bazaar were to go to a new gym for the local school. Well, he'd do his part for the community effort.

Another sweep of laughter sounded from the kissing booth. He paused in the shade of an oak tree about twenty feet away and watched as a bashful youth was egged on by his friends to take his kiss. When the boy handed over the dollar, the Venus in the kissing booth caught the kid by the ears and gave him a loud buss on the cheek. The boy blushed as red as the boiled shrimp on display at the seafood booth, but tossed his friends a proud grin as he strutted toward them across the lawn.

Heat swept over Jon and set a flame in his nether parts. There were certain circumstances during which he didn't mind a woman holding on to his ears, either. He unobtrusively ran a hand down the front of his jeans to make sure he wasn't about to bust his zipper. Good thing he'd put on briefs that morning.

He glanced at the hot-dog booth, pulled out his wallet, checked his money—he had six twenties—and gave a mental shrug. It was only money and it was for a good cause. He headed for the kissing line, tucking a bill into his shirt pocket as he went.

The guy in front of him was grinning like a weasel who'd found a hole in the henhouse as he waited for his turn to kiss the black-haired Venus. Jon disliked the man on sight.

"Hoo-wee," the jerk said. "I'm gonna enjoy this."

"Do you know who she is?" Jon asked.

"Yeah. Anne Hyden. I went to school with her. Never got a chance to get close enough to kiss her, though." The chump was obviously relishing the thought.

A stab of irritation hit Jon. He suppressed it. "She have a steady or something back then?"

"Nah." The guy frowned as he searched through his memory. "She didn't date nobody. Too good for the locals, I guess. Her uncle was the mayor. He still is. I figured she'd marry some rich guy when she went off to a fancy school up north, but she didn't. I hear she's been seeing a senator."

Jon rolled the name over his tongue. Anne...Anne Hyden. He liked it. He observed her as she accepted the quick, dry kisses with an easy humor and a no-nonsense manner.

The blood stirred aggressively in his groin area as he thought of how he'd like to kiss her...wet and deep and sensual, with lips and tongue and hands all involved. None of this namby-pamby, closed-mouth stuff.

Not that he would do that here in front of a crowd. After all, he had some finesse.

But it was something to think about while he waited his turn. He grinned. It wouldn't be long. She kept the line moving at a rapid clip with her friendly little smooches and teasing remarks to the men, all of whom she seemed to know.

Of course, to live in a town the size of Richport for a week, and not know everyone, would be difficult. "I don't see how the mayor can put up with that kind of display," a feminine voice remarked.

Jon peered under the oak branch and spied two young matrons sitting in the shade on the other side of the tree. He grinned at the look of sour grapes on the face of the plump woman who was fanning herself furiously while she and her friend gossiped.

"Well, she did bring in the most money in the shortest time last year," the other woman replied.

"And the pastor of the Methodist church was the first in line this morning."

"Humph," remarked the first woman, her fan swishing back and forth in rampant disapproval.

The line moved forward. Jon settled his white Stetson firmly on his head as the breeze kicked up a few dust swirls along the side of the road. Two more in front of him.

Then it was the jerk's turn. Jon found himself tensing for action the way he used to when he worked as a bouncer in a bar, which had been his first job after leaving home. With an effort, he relaxed his shoulders and his stance.

The guy in front of him handed over his dollar. He reached both hands out and grabbed the smiling Venus by the waist. A flicker of emotion darted through her eyes. Jon tensed again.

"Well, Snooze Allyn," she said brightly, laying a hand against the guy's chest. "Are you still napping after lunch the way you used to in Mrs. Brown's English class?"

Jon relaxed when the jerk's ears turned red. The lout let go of her waist. "Nah. My boss don't like it."

She wrinkled her nose. "Yeah, bosses are like that." She held up her cheek to him. He dipped and took a quick peck at it, then ambled off with a cocky grin.

Jon saw the suppressed amusement in her eyes before she turned to him. "Violet," he said.

"I beg your pardon?" Her expression became inquiring and, he thought, wary. Several emotions flickered through the intriguing depths. She pressed a hand against her chest as if disturbed by something.

His voice dropped to a husky murmur. "Your eyes. Blue with gray and a touch of violet. It's a lethal combination."

He couldn't believe he'd said that...and in the sexiest voice he'd ever used on a woman—low and vibrant, as if they were already making love. A wave of hunger swept over him, stronger than anything he'd ever felt.

Her smile wavered for an instant, then reasserted itself. "You're holding up the line," she informed him. "Let's see the color of your money, cowboy, else you'll have to step aside."

He placed the folded bill in her outstretched hand and pushed his hat out of the way. "Let me know when I've used this up," he said and reached for her.