Kissing Under the Mistletoe - By Marina Adair Page 0,2

how women like Regan, who got off on dating married men with big balances, walked away scot-free while the families they wrecked suffered forever.

He wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt, but how could a woman not know that the man she was sleeping with was married?

“What the—” Gabe jerked to the right, narrowly avoiding the flying object spiraling at his head.

“That would be Dasher,” Regan yelled, winding up again and chucking what appeared to be a porcelain Santa. She missed him, but before he could get smug, the shatter of glass told him she’d hit her target. He turned to find Mr. Kringle’s black boots sticking out the back window of the Hummer.

“You’ve got a pretty good arm.” Gabe tucked his hands in his pockets and leaned back against the fender. He’d never really understood why he enjoyed irritating her. Only that when her eyes went wild and that fighting pride of hers kicked in, all the years of drama between them seemed like bullshit.

“Three years of college softball at Oregon State.”

“Hold up, it’s happening again. Your eyes are glazing over and looking hard.” Something brown skimmed his thigh, taking out the right brake light. She reached for the third deer—Prancer, he believed.

“Yup,” he said, shaking his head sorrowfully. “Had a dog with that same problem. Used to foam at the mouth, snap at people for no reason. I had to put him down.”

Another reindeer came jingling his way. Fast, and aimed with lethal accuracy. She may have played softball, but he hadn’t been named MVP and Goalie of the Year on his college soccer team for nothing. He ducked.

“This whole heartless-bastard thing you got going on is working,” she called. “You show up, growl at my employer, and I get fired. Then you follow me to the next town, block me in, and effectively ruin my Christmas spirit.”

“You’re calling me heartless?” He laughed. Like her or not, she was the only woman he’d ever met who gave as good as she got. Well, besides his grandmother.

“Rubber and glue, buddy. Rubber and glue.” Then, in response to the smug grin, she sent Vixen flying, denting the hood and scratching the fender.

“You’re the one who slept with a married man. My sister’s husband, if you need me to be more specific.”

“Yeah, I made a mistake. And you’ve gone out of your way to make sure I can’t hold down a job ever again.”

“No, I go out of my way to make sure you never work with a company where your path might cross with my sister’s.”

“I’ve built my career on marketing wine. Your family is wine! So does that mean you’ll only stop harassing me if I give up my career?”

“As far as I know, your career is seriously lacking.”

At his words, all of her attitude faded and she just looked tired. Sad, vulnerable, and so damn defeated that his chest actually clenched. He didn’t like being the asshole. Hated it, as a matter of fact. But when his parents died, Gabe, twenty-three and the eldest of five, had stepped in as head of the DeLuca clan, and, as such, his duty was to protect his family. Twelve years had passed and nothing had changed—his family was his life. And right now no one was a bigger threat to their happiness than the gorgeous brunette standing in front of him.

Regan lowered the last reindeer in defeat, her voice barely audible over the light traffic. “How many times can I say I’m sorry? I mean, just let me know what that number is so we can both move on and you can leave me alone.”

He never made the conscious decision to approach her. His legs just started moving, his tension increasing with each step. He knew he was an intimidating man, but her being a little afraid of him right now couldn’t hurt. She didn’t need to know he would never harm her.

Actually, he hadn’t even really ruined her career. Oh, he may have gotten her fired from her first job, but that was because the firm she worked for, the one that had given her the job based on Richard’s recommendation, was handling their family’s new label. And he may have mentioned her name to a few friends in the industry as persona non grata. Aside from that, whatever problems she’d had over the years were all on her.

“I meant what I said to you that night I found you with Richard.” Even the memory made him want