The One That I Want Read online

  ALSO BY ZURI DAY

  Lies Lovers Tell

  Body by Night

  Lessons from a Younger Lover

  What Love Tastes Like

  Lovin’ Blue

  Love in Play

  Heat Wave (with Donna Hill

  and Niobia Bryant)

  The Morgan Men Series

  Love on the Run

  A Good Dose of Pleasure

  Bad Boy Seduction

  ALSO BY CHERIS HODGES

  Just Can’t Get Enough

  Let’s Get It On

  More than He Can Handle

  Betting on Love

  No Other Lover Will Do

  His Sexy Bad Habit

  Too Hot for TV

  Recipe for Desire

  Forces of Nature

  ALSO BY DONNA HILL

  If I Could

  Say Yes

  Heat Wave (with Zuri Day

  and Niobia Bryant)

  Published by Kensington Publishing Corp.

  The One That I Want

  Donna Hill

  Zuri Day

  Cheris Hodges

  Kensington Publishing Corp.

  http://www.kensingtonbooks.com

  All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.

  Table of Contents

  ALSO BY ZURI DAY

  Title Page

  A Promise for the Holiday

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Epilogue

  A Sexy Christmas Carol

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Christmas Surprise

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Teaser chapter

  Copyright Page

  A Promise for the Holiday

  Donna Hill

  Chapter 1

  Cara pointed her car fob in the direction of her white Infiniti and listened for the telltale beep. Satisfied, she turned and the ground-floor glass-front building that bore her name reflected back at her. Cara Holiday Real Estate. Each day that she walked through the doors she was reminded of where she’d been and how far she’d come. Those days were behind her but never far away from her thoughts. The fear kept her focused and determined never to be in that place again.

  She pulled the heavy glass and wood door open and greeted her receptionist, Tricia, who, although she had two small children, was always the first to arrive.

  “Morning,” Tricia greeted with her usual cheer. “How was your weekend?”

  “Quiet.” Cara offered a slight smile. “How about you?”

  “Laundry, cleaning, shopping, and school projects.” She chuckled. “Exciting. But I did get a date night in—well, a date few hours—with Ron. We got a bottle of wine, snacks, and gorged ourselves on DVDs while the girls slept.”

  “How is Ron? I haven’t seen him in a while.”

  “My hardworking hubby is hardworking. The new hours at the law office are grueling, but he wants to be ready to take the bar exam in the fall.”

  “Good for him. Make sure he sticks with it. I know what it’s like to have the satisfaction of your dreams coming true.”

  Tricia rested her chin on her palm. “Every time he wants to throw in the towel I remind him about you and everything that you accomplished.”

  Cara lowered her gaze at the compliment. Tricia knew a little bit about Cara’s struggle, but no one other than Cara’s best friend, Stella, knew how deeply losing Jeff had affected her, altered her life in ways that she still reeled from.

  “Thanks, Tricia, and on that note I’d better get to work. Busy day.” She tapped Tricia’s desk and walked down the short hallway to her small but well-appointed office.

  Cara had several new listings to investigate, calls to make, and a midday meeting. She tucked away her purse in the bottom drawer of her desk and got to work. When her phone rang to break in to her working streak, she’d been at it for three hours straight. It was a welcome pleasure to chat with Stella, who wanted to arrange a night out.

  “Friday sounds good to me, Stella,” Cara said. “It’s been a minute since we hung out.” She studied the images of the newest rental on her computer screen while she listened to her best friend tell her about the restaurant she wanted them to go to.

  “It’s that new place Downtown 2 under the Brooklyn Bridge. I’ve been hearing good things about it.”

  “Hmm, I think I read something about it. It’s kind of new, right?” She hit some keys on the keyboard and a magnificent image of Downtown 2, lit up against the night skyline, filled her screen. Nice.

  “Yeah, a few months. Anyway, what time works for you?”

  “Hmm, hang on a sec, let me check my calendar.” She switched to her Outlook calendar on her computer. “I have a showing of a condo in Clinton Hill at six. Hopefully that won’t take more than an hour.”

  “So let’s do seven-thirty. Mind if Vivian comes?”

  “Of course not. I haven’t seen her in ages. We’ll have a real girls’ night.”

  Stella laughed. “And we could sure use it. At least I know I could.”

  “Everything okay at work?”

  “It’s been a little crazier than usual. With the election season in full swing, everyone in the studio has been working overtime. I’ve been working on getting footage and interviews for all of the candidates, juggling schedules, and two of my cameramen are out sick.” She groaned.

  “Wow. You have your hands full. But it’s not the first time. You’ll pull it off, you always do.”

  “From your lips . . . Anyway, girl, I have to get my team over to Borough Hall. They’re setting up a press conference with the City Council members in an hour. See you Friday.”

  “Will do. Hugs,” she added before hanging up. Cara switched the screen back to view her rental listings. Yes, a night out would do her good. Most of her time she devoted to building her business and her reputation in the real-estate game. It wasn’t easy, but she promised herself she would never again find herself in the position she was in after Jeff.

  Five years ago, she had no idea how she was going to make it. She’d had to literally rebuild her life from the ground up. She’d been broke, depressed, and couldn’t find a job in the design industry—that she’d spent thousands of dollars getting a degree in. Her self-worth was at an all-time low, and she had serious trust issues. She’d always frowned at those men and women who’d had to turn to the government for help, until she became one of them. The humiliation of losing her home was yet another weight that she’d felt incapable of bearing. She’d had to move out of the house that she’d shared with her husband and find something smaller, something that she could afford on a temp salary. It was during her search and working with a real-estate agent that she became intrigued with the idea of becoming a broker. She started taking some courses and took the test for her license while working part-time with a local real-estate office. Once she passed the test for her b
roker’s license, she came on full-time with Century 21 for a year before saving up enough money to venture out on her own. She did well, had a small three-person staff, a comfy storefront office in a prime location, and had developed a reputation for finding the ideal spot for all of her clients. Positive referrals were the heart and soul of her business. There had been some tight moments in the past year and a half with the upheaval in the economy and investors not willing to sink money into new buildings and commercial spaces, and the housing market had all but bottomed out.

  Fortunately, things were turning around, and CH Realty was back on solid footing. In the past six months she’d closed on three brownstones totaling more than four million dollars, a commercial space in Downtown Brooklyn, and four condos. Her commission was substantial, enough for her to take a breath for a little while and make some “Cara” time. She could barely remember the last time she’d been out that wasn’t business related.

  She glanced away from her computer screen and her gaze drifted toward the wide plate-glass window that faced busy Fulton Street. It was only late October, but already the holiday season was shifting into gear. Pedestrians hustled along the shopping alley already weighted down with bags that sported the logos of the myriad of designer stores that had opened in Downtown Brooklyn in the past year. A swift pang pinged in her chest. The holidays should be a happy time. Well, at least they were for everyone else. For Cara, they were a reminder of one of the most difficult periods of her life.

  It was on Christmas Eve that she’d received the call, and she’d never felt the same about the holiday season again.

  Stella consistently tried to get her to spend the holidays with her and her family, and whoever her current beau might be, but Cara always opted out, preferring to spend the time alone, knowing that being around all the loving couples would only serve as a stark reminder of what she no longer had.

  Cara turned away from the parade of packages and smiling faces that moved like a filmstrip in front of her and returned her attention to the work at hand. The last thing she wanted on her mind was the impending holidays when she had a business to run and buildings to sell.

  An early chill blanketed the city and Cara was thankful for the comforting warmth of the restaurant. She’d opted to walk over from her appointment rather than drive and spend half of the evening looking for parking.

  Downtown 2 was busy. The bar was lined from end to end, and from her vantage point it looked as if all the tables were taken. She checked her watch: 7:30. She hoped that Stella and Vivian had beat her there and snagged a table.

  A young hostess walked up to her. “Welcome to Downtown 2. Are you here for dinner or drinks?”

  “Dinner. Actually, I’m meeting some friends.”

  “Do they have a reservation?”

  “To be honest, I don’t know.”

  “Hmmm, well, the wait without a reservation is at least an hour.”

  “Could you check?”

  “Sure. What’s the last name?”

  “Freeman. Stella Freeman.”

  She flipped a page on her clipboard and scanned the list of names. “I don’t see a Freeman,” she said, and looked up with an apologetic expression. “You’re more than welcome to wait at the bar. I can put your name on the list.”

  Cara blew out a breath of minor frustration. Friday nights were notorious for long waits for dinner. She was sure that Stella would have known that. Then again, with her crazy schedule she probably didn’t think about it. It didn’t make sense to leave. Wherever they wound up at this point would be the same.

  “Okay, I’ll wait. The name is Holiday. Cara Holiday. We’ll need a table for three.”

  “As soon as something opens up, you’ll be called.”

  “Thanks.” Now, where was . . . but before she could get the thought out of her head, her cell phone rang. “Girl, where are you? This place is packed. Here? Okay.” She turned and Stella was walking through the door. She disconnected the call.

  “I am so sorry,” she began, and gave a little shiver. “Filming ran late. Today has been crazy. I need a drink.”

  “That’s all we’ll be able to get for at least an hour. “

  “An hour?”

  “Yep, no reservation.”

  “Agggg.” Stella slapped the heel of her palm against her forehead. “Totally didn’t think about it. You want to leave and try someplace else?”

  “I certainly hope that you ladies will decide to stay.”

  They turned in unison toward the warm baritone. Something jumped in Cara’s chest when her gaze connected with the sweet chocolate of his eyes.

  “Not if we have to wait for an hour to get a table,” Stella said with a rise in her brow as she spoke.

  Cara, on the other hand, couldn’t find a thing to say—at all. Instead, she had to concentrate on making her heart slow down.

  “Why don’t I see if I can work something out,” he said to Stella, but his attention was zeroed in on Cara.

  Stella’s camera-ready gaze jumped from one face to another. Inwardly, she smiled. “We’d really appreciate that, wouldn’t we, Cara?”

  Cara blinked. “Yes, that would be fine.”

  He smiled and the remnants of the chill she’d had from her walk evaporated like morning dew.

  “Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right back.”

  “Did you see the way he was looking at you?” Stella said in a pseudo-whisper.

  “Girl, please. He was trying to be important.” At least her heart had slowed down.

  “Right, important to you.”

  Cara simply shook her head in dismissal while a part of her hoped that her friend knew what she was talking about.

  The door swished open behind them and in burst Vivian. “Sorry I’m late.” She looked from one to the other. “What did I miss and why are we standing here?”

  “You missed Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome making a move on Cara, and we’re standing here because I didn’t think to make a reservation.”

  “Don’t listen to her, Vivian, except the part about the reservations.”

  “Did you scare him off?”

  “No!”

  “He said he was going to find us a table,” Stella chimed in and winked at Cara.

  Cara adjusted the weight of her shoulder bag. She desperately wanted to look around and see if she spotted him, but didn’t dare.

  “Ladies. . . .” The hostess approached them with three menus in her hand. “If you’ll follow me.”

  The trio wide-eyed each other and followed the hostess through the interior of the restaurant, passing dozens of waiting diners.

  She guided them up to the mezzanine level of the restaurant and to a table that was set off from the rest. “This is the chef’s table.”

  “Chef’s table?” Cara asked.

  “Yes, it’s like sitting at the captain’s table on a cruise ship. You will have your meal prepared personally by the chef.” She placed the menus in front of three place settings.

  “Oh, I like the sound of that,” Vivian said. “Is this typical?”

  “Not at all. It is generally reserved for special guests.”

  “We must be special,” Stella joked.

  “Chef Davis will be with you shortly.” She poured them each a glass of Pellegrino. “Enjoy your meal.”

  “Looks like Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome did pull a few strings,” Stella said as she reached for her glass of water and gave Cara the side-eye.

  Cara pretended to ignore her, but whatever façade she had tried to erect slowly began to crumble when Mr. TDH strolled toward her donned in a white jacket. Her body flushed with heat and her heart started racing again. She reached for her glass but changed her mind.

  “Ladies”—he looked from one to the other—“I hope you like the accommodations.” His smile rested on Cara.

  “You’re the chef?” Stella asked, her voice lifting an octave.

  “Guilty as charged.” He gave a short bow of his head. “And I’m at your service
.”

  Stella titled her head to the side. “What would you suggest?”

  He leveled his gaze on Stella. “I would start you off with a delicate glass of white wine or something stronger if you prefer. Then for your entrée I would suggest a baked brie en croute. For your main course, red pistou salmon with grilled asparagus with my special sauce.”

  “Yum,” Vivian murmured.

  “Sounds delicious,” Stella added.

  Cara studied her menu.

  “And would you agree?” He directed his question to Cara. She dared to look up and her stomach jumped again.

  “Umm, majority rules.” She offered a half smile and returned to her menu—whatever it took not to stare at him.

  “Very good. I’ll have the waitress bring you your drinks.” He gave a short bow of his head and walked away.

  Cara was finally able to breathe.

  “Told you,” Stella said to Vivian. “He’s got his eye on Cara.”

  “For real.” Vivian nudged Cara with her elbow. “Girl, you better go for it. The brother is fine, and apparently he can cook, too.”

  “The two of you need to stop. Clearly he’s trying to be important.”

  “Um, he is if he’s the damned chef,” Stella said with a laugh.

  Cara shook her head and rolled her eyes. “I’ve told you both a zillion times I’m not interested in hooking up with anyone. End of story.”

  “Girl, your stuff is gonna dry up and grow cobwebs if you don’t shake it out.” Stella took a sip of her water and ignored Cara’s playful glare.

  “My ‘stuff’ is just fine, thank you very much.”

  “I know you must have stock in double A batteries,” Vivian chimed in.

  Vivian and Stella burst into laughter and Cara couldn’t help but join in. Her vibrator did get a regular workout—which was just fine with her. At least that’s what she told herself.

  The waitress arrived with two bottles of white wine for them to choose from—sauvignon blanc and a Chardonnay. She gave a brief description and year of both. They decided on the sauvignon blanc. She poured the wine into their glasses and left the bottle on the table.