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Christmas at the Chatsfield

Written by Maisey Yates

It was as if she was made for him. Sensual curves wrapped in a crimson silk gown, long dark hair trailing down her back in waves, and her exquisite features partially hidden beneath a golden mask. The only present that Nico Katsaros could ever want. But it was her eyes that held Nico in thrall. The eyes of his soon to be ex-wife.

When an unexpected meeting at The Chatsfield, New York's charity gala brings Lucy back into his life, Nico is determined not to be denied his one winter wish—to have his wife in his bed and back on his arm in time for Christmas!

Copyright © 2015 by Harlequin Books S.A. Special thanks and acknowledgement are given to Maisey Yates for her contribution to The Chatsfield series.

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Chapter One

Lucy Kennewick hated Christmas. She had for the past five years. Every single year she had spent in her husband's—soon-to-be ex-husband's—sterile mansion, void of boughs of holly, mistletoe, or anything resembling a reindeer, had been bleak and soulless like the man himself.

Before her marriage to Nico she had quite liked Christmas in New York. From the beautiful department store window displays to the glittering tree in Rockefeller Center. But after that, all of the festive cheer outside had only been a reminder of the starkness inside her life.

She lifted the red skirt of her gown as she walked up the steps that led to the front entrance to the grand ballroom of the Chatsfield. This would be her first Christmas party without him since they were married, and she was determined to enjoy herself.

They had both been invited. Because when the invitations had been sent out their marriage had still been seamless as far as the public eye was concerned. But he wouldn't come.

Though, the iconic marriage of Lucy Kennewick and Nico Katsaros had never been all that it had appeared.

A marriage to shore up her failing company. A marriage of convenience.

Though, a real marriage. In spite of the fact they had never shared a room, never shared their personal space, they had most certainly shared a bed.

As Lucy walked into the ballroom she unbuttoned her long black coat, handing it to the man waiting to check it. She became suddenly conscious of her hands, of the fact that her left hand was bare. That her ring was gone.

That her marriage was over.

She should be happy. The day after Christmas everything would be finalized, and her life would go back to normal. Her marriage to Nico would be nothing more than a blip on the radar. A starter marriage. Who in the city didn't have one of those?

She made her way deeper into the room, feeling suddenly very conscious in the bright red silk gown amidst the sea of chic New York City black. The annual Chatsfield Christmas ball was always a can't-miss event, but since the takeover of the new CEO, interest had been heightened. So many of the people here were in attendance because they were searching for something. For a sign of weakness, for a way to ally with Spencer Chatsfield. And Lucy?

Lucy simply wanted to take this chance to start over.

But she had one thing in common with the rest of the guests. She was wearing a mask over her eyes, offering the thinnest veil of anonymity. Making her feel as though she was watching all of those around her, while keeping herself hidden from them.

Suddenly she felt a prickling sensation on the back of her neck and she lifted her head, looking into a mirror that was mounted on the wall in front of her. She could see herself, dark hair styled into loose waves, the golden mask fitted to her face, red lips, painted to match the crimson gown that formed to her slight curves parted as if in shock.

And then she saw what had caused the prickling sensation. She had been wrong. She had been seen. Someone else was watching her. In the reflection of the mirror, her eyes connected to those of the man behind her. He was wearing a black mask, his flawless body outlined to perfection in the custom-made suit he was wearing.

Those dark eyes saw through her mask. And she saw through his.

Nico Katsaros. Her first husband. Her first lover, but never her first love. Because he didn't believe in it. And she didn't want it.

The ghost of Christmas past had come to haunt her indeed.

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About the author

I’ve always wanted to be a writer, but it wasn’t until I p...

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Maisey Yates

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