Noel

All Olivia could think about when she returned to work after the holidays was teaching her family a lesson. The idea that had started the night before kept growing and growing. While dressing for work as a medical receptionist that morning, she decided she wouldn't shop for presents next year. She'd hand out cold, unemotional gift cards. No wrapping paper, no glittering bows.

Nick would be happy with the money that would save. In fact, the whole family would probably be happy. There would be no returns, they could choose their own color and size and toy. So where would the lesson come in? No, she had to do something more drastic, something that would make them unhappy not happy. They had to learn gratitude. And the only way to do that would be to deprive them of... what?

Olivia ran errands after work with that thought burning a hole in her brain. What could she deprive them of? The Christmas tree? Maybe she wouldn't buy one next year. That would make Nick happy, he wouldn't have to get all the Christmas boxes down. But she'd only be depriving herself of the joy of hanging those special-memory ornaments. And if she didn't have a tree why put out all the other decorations; the singing santas and animals, the trailing garlands, pine-scented wreaths, red velvet ribbons of every size, shiny bells and sparkling stars? Did anyone even notice those things?

Friends did, but she wracked her brain trying to remember one compliment from her own family. Not one single-Oh, that's pretty!-came to mind.

So she'd be back to depriving herself, not anyone else. She wanted her family to be grateful for...?

Olivia was putting away groceries when it hit her like a ton of bricks. "Me," she said out loud. She wanted Nick to be thankful for the money she saved him, not for the money she spent. She wanted her children and grandchildren to be grateful for the beauty she created around each and every holiday and for the food she slaved to prepare.

So, what she needed to deprive them of was herself. But how was she going to do that? Leave them and spend next Christmas at someone else's house? That made no sense at all. She'd definitely have to give this idea more thought.

The solution came several days later; in the middle of her favorite TV show, Desperate Housewives.

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Flower of Passion

Adam had to admire the way the volatile chit tried to hide her emotions. She didn't succeed, her movements might be slow and precise but banked flames lit her glorious blue eyes. He wasn't quite sure what had set her off.

During their wallow in the mud, he hadn't been a gentleman. But what had he done this time? Besides allowing his hands to linger longer than necessary on her slim waist? At least his thumbs maintained control. The desire to press them into the soft flesh of her stomach below the boned corset had been tempting. Recalling the barrage of wildly fired bullets had made him jerk his hands away.

He didn't relish being too close to this female. Not when he had to constantly reach out to rescue her. But the real problem was he didn't want to let go. Even now his palms itched to touch her, stroke her. To explore the soft flesh beneath the hideous gown. No doubt about it, he was attracted to the chit. And that meant Trouble with a capital T.

Her long sooty lashes may be lowered but she was still glaring at him, even after he'd saved her from smashing her face in the dirt. Adam vowed that had been the last time he'd lift a hand to rescue Aster Disaster. Damn, if the name wasn't a perfect sobriquet for the little hellion.

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Seducing Annie

Disgruntled, Jared slipped off his robe and climbed into bed in the room connecting with his. He wanted his own bed, but for some ungodly reason, his grandmother had put Annie in it. True, his bed was closer to the bathing chamber, but if Annie had been too weak to make it this far, he could've carried her.

Twisting and turning, he tried to get comfortable on the short bed. Just as he found a tolerable position, a scream had him bounding from the bed, barely remembering to pull a robe on over his nakedness before rushing through the connecting door. In the shaft of moonlight streaming across his bed, he saw Annie cowering against the headboard, her legs kicking the bedcovers away. He hurried to her side.

"Get away! Go, go!"

Jared glared down at her until he realized she wasn't even looking at him... or talking to him. He followed her frantic gaze and flailing hand down to her thrashing legs. Her gown--another of his never-used nightshirts--rode up to her hips. He reached for the covers to hide her nudity, but the instant she noticed him, she looped her left arm around his neck, rising with him when he straightened in surprise. She stared over her shoulder down at the bed, trembling violently in his arms. Jared knew it wasn't from a chill. Her body was too warm.

"What is it, Annie? What are you afraid of?" He stroked his hand up and down her back.

"The rats. Make them go away."

Her trembling wasn't so violent now, though her eyes remained glued to the bed. As he bent to make a sweeping motion with his hand over the sheets, she tightened her hold, crushing her soft, abundant breasts against his chest. Jared groaned inwardly, fighting the surge of lust coursing in a direct path to his groin. He turned his head away from her freshly-bathed scent.

"It was only a nightmare, Annie. They're gone now." He tried to lie her back down, but she held tight.

"They might come back," she whimpered.

"They're gone, sweetheart."

She cast him a pitiful look, one so full of doubts that something within his chest tightened. Jared grabbed the coverlet, made a big show of shaking out any lingering varmints then walked to an overstuffed armchair near the window. She wouldn't loosen her hold. He wrapped the coverlet around her, making a thick wad of it beneath her buttocks then sat on the chair, leaving enough space behind him for the ankles she had locked behind his waist. He wasn't sure who the cushioned protection was for--her or him.

She laid her head on his shoulder, her warm breath feathering against his neck and her breasts again flattened against his chest. Fighting for control, Jared inhaled and exhaled deeply... three times.

"Annie, I know you're still in pain, maybe a bit feverish too, but I can't hold you in my arms." He pressed his nose into her thick hair. "Not when you smell so sweet. I'm either going to put you back in bed, or I'm going to make love to you. Which will it be?"

He waited for her answer. That she hadn't immediately slapped his face was a good sign. She hadn't yelled either, which must mean she was mulling over her choices. He decided a little persuasion wouldn't be remiss at this point. Tipping her chin, he angled her face up to meet his lips.

She snored in his mouth.

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