White-Hot Christmas Read Online Free PDF Page A

phone away from his ear, wincing. Merle could hear Ella screeching at him. She stared, shocked. What on earth had possessed her to react in such a way? No wonder the guy was anti-commitment if his ex-girlfriends treated him like this.
    Still, he didn’t raise his voice. Merle heard him speak gently but firmly for a while, sighing occasionally before saying goodbye, flipping the phone shut. He paused for a moment before turning around. Then he sat, lowered his sunglasses and looked out to sea. Merle narrowed her eyes. He needed cheering up. What could she do to help?
     
    Neon mused on his conversation with Ella, sliding down in his seat, his arms crossed. He’d never promised her anything, but she’d still demanded more than he could—or wanted to—give. What was it with women? It was enough to make a man want to turn gay. He glanced across at Merle and watched as she crossed her long legs, raising her dress a little to let the sun get to them. Okay, maybe not. But at that moment, he didn’t think he ever wanted to date again. Sex, yes. Dating, no. Shame one rarely came without the other, unless you counted paying for it, and he wasn’t a big fan of that.
    He watched the English girl from behind his dark glasses, turning his head so it looked as if he were staring out to sea. He wasn’t quite sure how he felt about her. Her sharp retort on his literary knowledge had stung. She’d thought him ignorant and illiterate because of the way he looked and the job he did, although she had apologised afterward, even if it was in a roundabout way. Obviously her prejudice was her problem, but still… She’d made a judgement about him with no solid foundation.
    He sipped his beer, phasing in and out of the conversation, wondering if Ella was still crying or if it had just been put on to make him feel guilty. He didn’t miss her. He knew it was cruel, but she’d been a stopgap for him, a warm body when he’d been lonely. He’d never really felt anything deep for her. Hell, he’d hardly had time for his feelings to develop. He wasn’t proud of hurting her, especially when he knew she’d been crazy about him, but he couldn’t change the way he felt.
    He focussed on Merle again. It was a shame she was so haughty, because if he thought about her in a purely physical way, she was very enticing. Long, long legs, curvy body. Beautiful bouncy blonde hair with a hint of red—strawberry blonde, didn’t they call it? Smooth skin, with a scattering of freckles. He usually favoured athletic women with a healthy tan and tight, toned bodies, and Merle didn’t fit that category—she probably hadn’t seen a surfboard in real life before, let alone stood on one. But her womanly figure and pale skin were enticing, and with her floppy hat and sundress she looked elegant, refined. Not too refined, though. He could imagine running his suntanned hand up her smooth white thigh and then farther up her body, cupping her heavy white breast. Hmm. Better not go too far down that road or everyone would become aware of his rising interest.
    At that moment, however, his attention was drawn to the way she’d started eating her ice lolly. She’d unwrapped the frozen ice on a stick and was busy catching the drops with her tongue where it had started to melt. She ran her tongue very slowly up the long length of the lolly—which was amusingly phallic shaped, or was it his imagination?—from the base to the top, which she then covered with her mouth. He stared. She listened to Bree talk, unaware of the suggestiveness of her actions, and did it again, turning the lolly around and licking the base with her pink tongue, then brushing the cold pole all the way up. Against his will, blood rushed to his groin.
    He lifted his sunglasses onto the top of his head for a better look, wondering if he’d imagined it. Did she know how erotic she looked? Nobody else seemed conscious of it. He watched, intrigued, holding his breath, as she sucked with her beautiful