Another Wicked Night Before Christmas

eXtasy Books

Heat Rating: Steamy
Word Count: 27,573
0 Ratings (0.0)

She is his soul…

The first time Michael Demeter spends a night in a cabin with Amy, he knows he found the only woman he wants to share his life with, the one he wants to see every day and before he closes his eyes at night. He gives her heart, his soul, but a part of him remains a secret.

He is her heart…

Her boyfriend shatters her heart when she catches him with another woman. She runs home to grieve, to stay away. A few days before Christmas, Michael shows up at Whistler—breathtaking, flirtatious and oh so seductive. She tries to ignore him, but love, Amy McLeod realizes, is the most complicated feeling of all.

One cannot survive without the other.

Before Christmas, he will do everything to have Amy back. He can’t stand another day living without her. Will she accept him if she learns the truth about him, about his past. He wonders if the holiday season will work its magic and give him a chance to show Amy a promised wicked night before Christmas.

Another Wicked Night Before Christmas
0 Ratings (0.0)

Another Wicked Night Before Christmas

eXtasy Books

Heat Rating: Steamy
Word Count: 27,573
0 Ratings (0.0)
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Cover Art by Martin Jardin

Impulsive. Her mother had said that one day she’d find herself in a bind because of her impulsive nature. Well, now that it finally happened, there was nothing she could do about this situation, but hope she’d come up with just a sprained ankle or broken thumb. Darn it, she couldn’t even see!

Amy felt the man’s arm wrap around her. They didn’t roll, but he kept her on top of him. Finally, after what seemed to be endless sliding, their speed lessened. Quickly, she rubbed her goggles on her sleeve. With her visibility back, she tried to watch where they were heading to make sure they weren’t going to plow into anybody. A few snowboarders watched them go by. She heard hoots and whistles. Great, with her on top of Noob, people must have thought of them as two idiots. By the time they reached the ramp, they were just coasting.

When they made it to the piste—the run where snow was compacted and the route flatter—Amy was finally able to breathe. As soon as they stopped sliding, she rolled off the man and laid on the snow until her breathing turned back to normal. She was aware of the man beside her. Hard not to when his arm pillowed her neck.

It felt good just to lay there, to savor the warm feeling of the sun beating down on her face. A reminder that she was still alive. Tiredness started setting when she remembered that this same man who’d been following her around and sounded like Michael, could have caused them both broken limbs.

Eyes closed, she tried counting all the reasons why this man couldn’t be Michael. But his grin, his voice…

Possible, but no.

She sat up and started brushing snow off her thighs. She looked like a Yeti—all white. “That was the most stupid thing I’ve ever seen in my entire life, Noob.” Using her ski pole with its strap still looped around her wrist, she pushed down on the lever at the back of the ski’s binding to release her boot. She repeated the process with the other.

“Did you hear me? My goodness. If you have a death wish, you should definitely go someplace where no one is close enough to save you. Worse, it looks like you picked me to be your rescuer. You shouldn’t have been skiing here. Didn’t you see the sign that says expert skiers only? Lord Almighty! You’re so gutsy to try this run. Maybe you wanted attention, which obviously you’re getting. Well, news flash, Noob. If you go to a singles bar or make a sign need attention and stand on a street corner, you’ll get attention, too. Without putting yourself or others in danger.”

Amy removed her goggles and tapped it on her leg. She looked at the man’s skis, then shook her head. “I’m impressed you didn’t lose your skis. Who helped you put those on and how did you even manage to stand without falling. Oh, wait. You did fall. So many times. It probably took you ages before you managed to stand on the those skis. You know, if you really want to—”

“Shut up, Amy.”


“I said, shut up, baby.” Michael lifted his goggles and rested them on his forehead, then turned his head to look at her.

Amy froze in her spot. She stared back at him.

Sweet Potatoes!

If the weather suddenly turned scorching hot as hell and melted the snow, she wouldn’t even be as shocked as seeing…Michael.

Michael, here in Whistler? An arm’s length away from her. Hard to believe, but there was no mistaking those haunting deep dark blue-jean eyes shadowed with thick and long lashes even a cow would envy, a perfect nose if it weren’t for the slight bump on the bridge, long jet-black hair, defined strong jaw, high cheekbone and wicked mouth that could kiss. Those wonderful characteristics only belonged to one man. Michael.

Yet, she couldn’t wrap her mind into believing that this was indeed him. It can’t be, she thought. Michael, lying on the snow, staring at her as if he was making love with his eyes was more than shocking. It was a damn discombobulating. Amy returned the stare until she began tingling all over as if he was actually touching her.

She forced herself to shake off the feeling.

That was easier said than done, however, especially when Michael’s expression was so enigmatic with his gaze roaming around her face. Then his mouth curved a little as if trying not to smile, but it was gone in a heartbeat. That little smile quickly replaced her shock by rapid breathing and a hint of excitement that bubbled in her chest.


“Yes.” Michael covered his eyes with his arm when the clouds moved to give way to the sun that shone even brighter. He groaned and tried to move his feet, but his boots were still attached to his skis.

What in the world? All this time she’d been watching Michael and didn’t even realize that it was him. Well, she had her suspicions, but…

“Michael?” she repeated, still unable to grasp reality that he was here.

“Yup. It’s me. Michael. Michael Murphy, honey, baby, or Noob. Whichever you prefer.”

“But what are you…why are you…why would you… Michael?”

Michael slowly sat up, shaking his head while vigorously swatting at the powdered snow on his thighs. “Shit, Amy. Don’t try rescuing me or anybody again, will you?”

Michael, here. With me. Why? Amy thought she would never see his angel face again, though Michael was no angel at all. Definitely not in bed. Oh, yeah. An angel, she was sure, would never pleasure a woman in bed the way Michael did. My oh my, those mesmerizing blue eyes could make any woman think of naughty thoughts. This woman included. How anyone could look so handsome was beyond her. He was a sin walking on earth, seducing women to abandon their good-girl image.

She leaned forward to have a better look at his flushed face. “Michael?”

He sighed. “Babe.” Michael’s sigh was loud enough to blow the powdered snow away. “ Want to see my driver’s license?”


“To prove that I am—”

“No, no. Why are you here?”

Michael opened his eyes and then turned his head once again to look at Amy. In a low soft voice he said, “I thought it was obvious.”

He leaned back in a sitting position, using his hands for support. The image that he projected made Amy’s heart flutter the same way he did when they’d met for the first time. But why was he here again?

“I don’t get your meaning. Why are you here?”

“I wanted to see you.”

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