A Christmas Temptation

Somewhere behind the expensive gifts and grand gestures...

was the man who had once been her whole world.

Sophie Eden refuses to sell her family’s legacy, especially not to Jake Wheeler. He and Sophie have history—a night of passion that first left her elated, then heartbroken. Now the New York heiress wants him to stay away. But when they’re snowed in for Christmas, they surrender to temptation. Meanwhile, a secret waits to tear them apart...

KAREN BOOTH is a Midwestern girl transplanted in the South, raised on ’80s music, Judy Blume and the films of John Hughes. When she takes a break from the art of romance, she’s listening to music with her nearly grown kids or sweet-talking her husband into making her a cocktail. Learn more about Karen at karenbooth.net.

Also by Karen Booth

The Best Man’s Baby

The Ten-Day Baby Takeover

Snowed in with a Billionaire

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk

A Christmas Temptation

Karen Booth

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-07693-7

A CHRISTMAS TEMPTATION

© 2018 Karen Booth

Published in Great Britain 2018

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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Version: 2020-03-02

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Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Extract

Extract

About the Publisher

One

Eden’s Department Store offered a dazzling array of merchandise, but in Sophie Eden’s mind, everything started with the shoes. Thus, she always began her workday in the shoe department, surveying the latest and chitchatting with the salespeople as they prepared for the day’s shoppers. Sophie often devoted ten or fifteen minutes to the pursuit before heading upstairs to her office. Some days she’d even try on something new. Not today. With less than a month until Christmas, and the vultures circling, getting right to work was the most pressing matter.

She bustled through the department down the wide center promenade, past the Lucite and chrome displays of sling-backs and stilettos, beneath the splendid crystal chandeliers that dotted the high coffered ceiling. Her delicate heels click-clacked on the gleaming white marble floor. Her shoes were particularly magnificent today—Manolo Blahnik pumps with a slim leather tie at the ankle, in Christmas red. The color choice was no coincidence. The holidays were Sophie’s favorite time of year, and she was going to sneak in every second of cheer she could. She already knew Christmas would be difficult this year. This would be the first without Gram, her grandmother, the founder of Eden’s.

Sophie rounded a turn as the aisle spoked off to the various sections of the department known to fashion editors all over the world as “shoe heaven.” Tucked back in the far corner was the vestibule with the private elevator that would take her upstairs to the true guts of the Eden’s operation. She sucked in a deep, cleansing breath as she took her short ride up one floor. Normally, she loved her job, but right now it was much farther from heaven than the number on the elevator door suggested.

“Good morning, Lizzie,” Sophie said, greeting her assistant. She shrugged off her cream-colored wool coat and slung it over her arm. Considering the dirt and grime of the city, such a light color was a stupid idea, but Sophie loved the way it showed off her red hair. It was one of her best assets.

Lizzie popped up from behind her desk, all sunshine and raw energy. Her platinum pixie cut was extra spiky today. “Good morning, Ms. Eden. How are you?”

“Depends. How’s my day looking?”

“You’ve already received three gift baskets from real-estate developers this morning.”

“It’s barely nine o’clock.”

“The couriers start delivering at eight.”

Sophie shook her head. This had been the drill for the last month, ever since her grandmother, Victoria Eden, had passed away. Everyone knew that Sophie and her sister, Mindy, would inherit Eden’s. Their grandmother spoke of it often, at runway shows and cocktail parties and even to the press. Eden’s was a business built for women, by women, and it would be run by women for as long as Victoria Eden could see it through.

The will was to be read the week before Christmas when the heirs could gather. It was viewed as a formality, though. Sophie and her sister, Mindy, would own the store. Thus the influx of gift baskets, flowers, phone calls and emails. It wasn’t that anyone was particularly interested in Eden’s as a business. They were after the building and the land. Everyone assumed Sophie and Mindy would want to sell. Mindy was desperate to do so. Sophie was diametrically opposed to the idea.

“Oh, and your sister called to say she will not be able to come by today after all,” Lizzie said as she trailed Sophie into her office.

“Lovely.” Sophie made no effort to disguise the unhappiness in her voice. She and Mindy were at odds right now. “I’ll have to give her a call and see what her problem is.” She got settled in her chair, which was custom upholstered in peacock blue velvet with gold nail-head trim. She pulled her laptop from her bag and set it on her sleek white glass-topped desk. “Anything else?”

“Everything’s in your calendar. You have a meeting with the department heads at two this afternoon. Also, Reginald will be up to do the holiday decorations in your office soon. I tried to get him to come earlier in the morning, but it just wasn’t possible. I think they’re all still recovering from installing the holiday window displays.”

Sophie waved it off. “Yes. Of course. My office is definitely the bottom of the priority list. And I’m glad they’re coming while I’m here. I’d like to be able to pitch in.” Sophie loved decorating for Christmas. It was one of her absolute favorite pursuits.

“Do you think Reginald will actually let you help? You know how he is.” Lizzie bugged her eyes and whispered, “Control freak.”

“And I’m about to be the president of Eden’s Department Store. Plus, he loved Gram, and he knows how close we were.” Sophie wasn’t sure who had cried harder at her grandmother’s funeral—her or Reginald. “I’m sure he’ll be nothing but accommodating.”

Lizzie made her way to the door but stopped before exiting. “Oh. I almost forgot. Jake Wheeler called again last night. Also, he sent the fruit.” Lizzie pointed to the credenza behind Sophie’s desk. Three elaborate cellophane-wrapped baskets sat atop it.

Jake Wheeler. How could one man’s name send both a flash of anger and a flutter of delight through her body at the same time?

“Did he leave a message?”

“He did. He wanted me to remind you that it’s very important he speaks to you.”

“Of course he did. He’s a man accustomed to getting everything he wants.” Sophie picked up the fruit basket. “Put this in the employee lounge. Someone should enjoy it.”

Lizzie held out her arms, which dropped a bit under the weight of the basket. “Don’t you want to read the card first?”

Sophie didn’t really want to read the card, but knowledge was king and she needed to know what Jake Wheeler was thinking. Otherwise, he was a mystery. He always had been.

Sophie grabbed the gold-trimmed envelope and ripped it from the plastic. “Thank you, Lizzie.”

“Of course, Ms. Eden. You know where to find me if you need anything.”

Sophie sat in her chair, her back straight and chin held high as she slid a manicured finger under the envelope flap. There was no telling what Jake had written on this card. When they were in business school together, everything out of his mouth was witty and warm. It was one of the things that first drew her to him. That and his unforgettable green eyes.

Dear Sophie,

You can’t ignore my phone calls forever. Sooner or later, I’ll get through to you.

Best,

Jake

A zip of electricity ran along Sophie’s spine. From somewhere deep in the recesses of her mind, the sound of Jake’s sexy rumble of a voice had been set free. It was like a wild animal, pouncing on her. She’d forgotten the way it made her feel. A wave of warmth started in her chest and rolled back over her shoulders. She reclined in her chair and closed her eyes, recalling the magical moment when he’d first kissed her eight years ago, his insistent lips bringing every fantasy she’d had about him to life. He’d kissed her like he meant it, his arms tight around her waist, pulling her body into his. It was a dream come true in so many ways. She’d spent two years desperate for him to do that, trying so hard to be the kind of woman who would catch his eye. Finally, she’d done it.

Little had she known Jake Wheeler would break her heart and shatter her opinion of him in less than twenty-four hours.

Sophie’s eyes flew open when there was a knock at her door.

Lizzie stood before her, plainly concerned. It was not like Sophie to sit at her desk with her eyes closed. “Ms. Eden? Reginald is here.”

Sophie bolted upright and scrambled out from behind her desk. “Yes. Great. Good morning, Reginald. Please, come right in.”

“Everything okay?” Lizzie asked under her breath.

“Just a slight headache.”

“Good morning, Ms. Eden.” Reginald, Eden’s creative director, floated into her office and began surveying the walls and windows. “We’re here to transform your office into a glamorous winter wonderland.” Reginald was a bald, spindly man with thick horn-rimmed glasses who always wore a suit with a bow tie. His ensemble today was navy blue with a lavender pinstripe, the tie matching the stripes. Reginald did not do quiet, dull or subtle—precisely the reason Eden’s window displays were one of the most popular Christmas attractions in the city.

Two young women rushed in behind him, lugging large boxes overflowing with sparkly silver and white garland. They set down their armfuls in the corner of Sophie’s office and hurried back out into the hall, presumably for more supplies.

“What’s the plan?” Sophie asked, filled with a mix of anticipation and sadness. Decorating one’s office was Gram’s tradition. She wanted Christmas oozing from every corner of Eden’s. It helped to make the most arduous month of the year tolerable.

Reginald cast a doubtful look down at her, his glasses sliding to the tip of his nose. “You aren’t planning on staying, are you? I work best unencumbered. And unsupervised.”

Sophie frowned. “You used to let Gram help you when you decorated her office.”

“That was different. She was the matriarch of the store. A queen. An unparalleled woman.”

Sophie didn’t need any more of this speech. She was well aware of the grand specter of her grandmother. She lived and worked under it every day. Sophie, along with her sister, would eventually fill the matriarchal role, but it wasn’t right to claim it now. That was a position that must be earned, not inherited. “Got it.”

Reginald patted her on the shoulder. “Trust me. It’ll be stunning when you return.” He made a grand gesture for the door. “Now shoo.”

Sophie grabbed her cell phone from her desk and stepped out into the hall. Gram’s office was right next to hers. The door was still open, and Sophie flipped on the light. It still looked so strange with no Gram. Sophie had no trouble sketching in what was missing—her grandmother, with her trademark strawberry blond bob with thick bangs, never a hair out of place. On a day like today, Sophie could imagine her in a tailored dress in a fun color, perhaps a bold floral, accessorized with gold bangles and diamond earrings. She was always glamorous perfection.

Gram’s office was a similarly colorful and pristine place, with everything exactly as it was on the last day she’d worked, at the end of October. Sophie had a lot of regrets about the last time she’d seen Gram. Sophie’s day had been horrible and she’d only waved goodbye to her grandmother when she left the office. If she’d known Gram would have a heart attack in her sleep that night, she would have taken one last time to say I love you. She would have run out from behind her desk, grabbed her and given her one last hug.

Sophie turned off the light. She wasn’t ready to use Gram’s office. She might never be. It would only make her feel sad and inadequate. She could just imagine the looks on people’s faces when they walked into the room and realized that the woman sitting behind the desk did not possess the gravitas of her predecessor.

Instead, Sophie ducked into an empty cubicle hidden behind the reception area. She dialed the number for her sister, Mindy, who answered right away.

“Lizzie said you aren’t coming in today. Why not?” Sophie asked.

“Because it’s December and one of our high-production printers is broken and my team is struggling to fill orders. I don’t have time to spend at Eden’s.” Mindy had her own successful business, By Min-vitation Only, an online shop that sold high-end custom cards and invitations. “Everyone needs their Christmas cards yesterday. It’s a madhouse over here.”

“Oh. Okay. I understand.”

“Don’t sound so disappointed, Soph. You knew this was going to happen. You knew I couldn’t simply drop everything and take on new responsibilities. I appreciate that you’re steering the ship at Eden’s until Gram’s will is read, but I need you to accept the reality of our situation.”

“And what is that exactly?” Sophie crossed her legs and bobbed her foot, stealing a glimpse of her red pumps. God, she loved those shoes. Mr. Blahnik was a genius.

“Today is our reality. I am too busy to play a role in the store. Today I’m dealing with Christmas, but after that is New Year’s and Valentine’s Day. There is no downtime for me. I’ve worked hard to build my business, and I’m not stepping away from it.”

Sophie understood her sister’s predicament and her argument. She did. She just wished it wasn’t the case. Now that Gram wasn’t around to offer advice and solve problems, Sophie was perpetually out of her depth. And alone.

“Eden’s is a lost cause, Soph. You’ll be much happier when you just admit it,” Mindy said.

“It is not. Gram didn’t think so, and I don’t think so, either. We can turn it around. Our earnings were up two percent last quarter.”

“And my earnings were up twenty.”

Way to rub it in my face. “I get it, Mindy. But this is our family business.”

“I’m family. And I have a business. I’m telling you, as soon as the will is read, you and I need to sell Eden’s to the highest bidder, pocket the cash, and then you need to come work for me. Easy peasy. We’ll both have it made.”

Mindy made it sound so simple and obvious, but she hadn’t made promises to their grandmother. She hadn’t spent the last three years working for Gram, learning and growing and soaking up every drop she could of her genius. “I’m not prepared to talk about anything until after Christmas. It’s in poor taste.”

Sophie stepped out of the cubicle and tiptoed over to her office door to sneak a peek through the tiny gap between the door and the jamb.

Reginald rushed right over. “Oh, no you don’t.” He quickly closed the door, right in her face.

“Fine,” Mindy said, sounding impatient. “But will you at least call Jake Wheeler and listen to his pitch? The man is ridiculously persistent. He’s calling me twice a day.”

There it was—that name again. “I know. He sent me a fruit basket.”

“He’s got superdeep pockets, Sophie. And he sure speaks fondly of you. You’d think you two were exes the way he talks about you.”

Sophie leaned back against the wall, her vision narrowing just as her lips pinched together. “You know that’s not the case.”

“Oh, I know. I know the whole story. He’s the one who got away.”

Sophie shook her head. “He is not. He’s the snake who slithered away. And I hardly had him to begin with.” Just one unbelievably hot night of abandon.

“Regardless. Call him.”

“I’ll think about it.” Sophie already knew there was no way she would call Jake. There was a lot of wisdom in the adage about not clawing at old wounds. He’d hurt her. Badly. She would never, ever forgive him.

“Think harder. I’d like to cross him off my to-do list.”

Sophie stifled a snort. Jake Wheeler had spent two years on her “to-do” list.

Years later, she still regretted it like crazy.

* * *

Granted, expressing condolences was not Jake Wheeler’s strongpoint. He’d found it much easier to get through life by glossing over sad moments and enjoying pleasant ones. But after three unreturned phone calls, a sympathy card that garnered no response and an ignored charity donation in her grandmother’s name, he was certain Sophie Eden was not impressed with his efforts.

Jake’s admin, Audrey, buzzed the line in his office. “Ms. Eden’s assistant is on the line, Mr. Wheeler.”

Jake picked up his phone. “Lizzie, I’m worried that if we continue to spend this much time on the phone, people will start to get the wrong impression of our working relationship.”

“Sir? You remembered my name?”

“How could I not? Is this our fourth or fifth time speaking?”

“I’m not sure, sir. Probably the fifth.”

“And I’m guessing you know why I’m calling.” Jake rocked forward and back in his chair, watching out the window of his tenth-floor office in the luxury steel-and-glass tower of 7 Bryant Park. He had stunning views of the New York Public Library and other midtown Manhattan landmarks, but the one he enjoyed most was that of the building’s namesake. Down on the street, a temporary Christmas market was set up with vendors, music and ice skating. The holiday disruption had been overtaking the normally peaceful green space every December in recent years. Jake couldn’t wait for January, when it would all be gone.

“I do. And I’m very sorry, but Ms. Eden is not available right now.”

“Can you at least tell me when she’ll be back in the office?”

“She’s here all the time, Mr. Wheeler. But her schedule is packed and always changing, as I’m sure you can understand. It’s December. She runs one of the largest department stores in Manhattan. It’s a very busy time.”

“Of course.” Jake tapped his pen on his desk. “Did she get the fruit basket I sent?”

“She did. And she was generous enough to share it with the staff. Everyone has enjoyed it greatly. Thank you.”

Jake wasn’t sure what more he could do to get her to return his phone calls, and he certainly couldn’t arrive at a conclusion about why she was avoiding him. Their last interaction, years ago, at business school graduation, had been nothing but pleasant and cordial. They’d both agreed to let their shared history remain where it belonged—in the past.

“But she’s not there right now?” He purposely added a heavy tone of suspicion to the question. It was the end of the workday. If Sophie was too busy to pick up the phone, she had to still be at the office.

“I’m sorry, but she’s not available right now. No.”

Jake wasn’t sure what that meant, but he knew he was getting the runaround. “Fine. I’d like to leave a message. Again. My name is Jake Wheeler, and my number is—”

“Ms. Eden has your number.”

Jake choked back a frustrated grumble. “Please remind her that it’s very important. I need to speak to her.”

“She knows, sir. I’ve delivered each one of your messages personally.” Judging by the tone in her voice, Sophie’s assistant was losing her patience. That much they had in common.

“Great. Thank you.” Jake hung up the phone, more frustrated now than ever. He had to get Sophie to talk to him. He had to meet with her. Jake was a member of an exclusive investment group called the War Chest. It was run by financier Jacob Lin, and they tackled only the biggest of big deals—ones that required several sets of deep pockets. Jake had suggested Eden’s when Sophie’s grandmother had died. The other War Chest members, hoteliers Sawyer and Noah Locke and real-estate broker Michael Kelly, along with Jacob, had all voted yes on the idea. Jake assured them with a great deal of confidence that he had an inside track with Sophie. Of course, until a month ago, he’d thought he did have an inside track. He and Sophie were best friends in business school. For a brief but memorable twenty-four hours, they’d been more.

“Audrey?” he called out into the void of his office.

In seconds flat, Jake’s assistant snapped to attention in his office doorway. Audrey was fastidious, hyperorganized and very opinionated. “Sir, I really think it’s too late for coffee. You’ll get edgy, and caffeine is disruptive to sleep patterns.”