A Christmas Proposition (Dallas Billionaires Club Book 3) Read online

  “I need to get married...And the only one who can help me is you.”

  Trading one scandal for another, Stefanie Ferguson must marry to save her brother’s political career. Luckily, her brother’s best friend wants to help. But until this moment, Emmett Keaton has been off-limits. Now their convenient vows on Christmas Day unleash a passion too long denied. Will this marriage for scandal become a marriage for real?

  “Aren’t we supposed to be practicing?”

  Her eyes flew open, her cheeks hot with...something. Lust? Frustration? Frustrated lust? But before she could take him to task, she saw one corner of his mouth lift in amusement.

  “Thought you liked it when I joked.”

  “All joking aside—” she cleared her throat “—there’s no need to practice the physical part of this convenient marriage.”

  “You sure? A lengthy kiss usually follows the ‘I dos.’”

  “I’m pretty sure I can wing a chaste marital kiss. Even with you.”

  “You’re the boss.” His gaze drifted to her mouth, the move as sensual as if he’d leaned forward to press his lips to hers.

  * * *

  A Christmas Proposition

  is part of the Dallas Billionaires Club series

  from Jessica Lemmon!

  Dear Reader,

  What happens when two people who barely tolerate each other find themselves traveling and staying together and...planning their Christmas wedding? There are few tropes as fun as a marriage of convenience, and in A Christmas Proposition, sparks fly when Stefanie Ferguson, the youngest of the Ferguson siblings, finds herself proposing to her eldest brother’s best friend and security detail.

  Emmett Keaton has long protected the Ferguson family, but he’s about to find out just how far he’ll go to keep them safe—to keep Stefanie safe. He’s the ultimate scrooge, and she loves Christmas, but he endures the holiday plans and mistletoe in favor of sharing a marital bed with her. Oh, and they wait until the deed is done to break the news of their nuptials to the rest of the family. As close as the Fergusons are, you can imagine how well that goes over.

  Snuggle in and enjoy a story filled with tradition and fireworks between these two opposites. Stefanie and Emmett have a lot to learn about each other, and even more to learn about what it takes to be together forever and ever, amen. I have the utmost faith in them. If there’s one attribute they both have in spades, it’s stubbornness to see things through to the end. Once falling in love was added to the mix, they were goners.

  Happy holidays,

  Jessica Lemmon

  www.JessicaLemmon.com

  Jessica Lemmon

  A Christmas Proposition

  A former job-hopper, Jessica Lemmon resides in Ohio with her husband and rescue dog. She holds a degree in graphic design currently gathering dust in an impressive frame. When she’s not writing supersexy heroes, she can be found cooking, drawing, drinking coffee (okay, wine) and eating potato chips. She firmly believes God gifts us with talents for a purpose, and with His help, you can create the life you want.

  Jessica is a social media junkie who loves to hear from readers. You can learn more at jessicalemmon.com.

  Books by Jessica Lemmon

  Harlequin Desire

  Dallas Billionaires Club

  Lone Star Lovers

  A Snowbound Scandal

  A Christmas Proposition

  Join Harlequin My Rewards today and earn a FREE ebook!

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  To Dad,

  for always making Christmastime feel special

  (PS: you can stop reading now).

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Epilogue

  Excerpt from Blame It On Christmas by Janice Maynard

  One

  December 20

  Source: thedallasduchess.com

  EXCLUSIVE:

  STEFANIE FERGUSON AND BLAKE EASTWOOD REUNION

  Good morning, Dallas!

  As maven of this fine city, the Dallas Duchess makes it her job to know the happenings of local royalty. In this town, no royalty is finer than the Fergusons.

  “Princess” Stefanie Ferguson, socialite, heiress and party girl, has been spotted once again on the arm of cunning and charming Blake Eastwood, who just so happens to be the mayor’s biggest opponent. (Naughty, naughty!) And, my savvy duchess dolls, you’re all aware that the mayor=Stefanie’s gorgeous and recently betrothed brother. Yes, ladies, another of Dallas’s eligible bachelors is about to bite the dust.

  (As an aside, you longtimers may recall my breaking story about the mayor shacking up in Montana during a snowstorm with his old flame. Hotcha! You always hear it here first.)

  But back to Princess Stef and her dashing bad boy... By now you’ve no doubt seen the photo circulating on social media of Blake and Stefanie dancing cheek to cheek at a Toys for Tots fund-raiser. And if you’re an astute observer like moi, you felt the sparks flying from that photo. As of right this very minute, I can confirm what my pitter-pattering heart was hoping for the most:

  Stefanie and Blake are together!

  Recently, I spoke with Blake and while I couldn’t get him to commit to a timeline, I did learn a verrrry juicy bit of intel.

  Dallas Duchess: I have to ask for the sake of my readers. Are you and Stefanie Ferguson seeing each other again?

  Blake Eastwood: [emits a sexy chuckle] Um. Yes. We are.

  DD: [squeals of delight] Can you tell me more?

  BE: I can tell you that it’s new, but serious.

  DD: Put-a-ring-on-it serious?

  BE: Come on, Duchess, I can’t let every cat out of

  the bag.

  DD: But it’s almost Christmas! Surely you can give us one teeny-tiny hint?

  BE: Christmastime is Stef’s favorite time of the year. She whispered in my ear just yesterday that it’s the perfect time to shop at Tiffany & Co. I’m a man who knows how to take a hint.

  Ladies, gentlemen. If that’s not a confirmation that Blake is popping the question Stefanie is begging him to ask, I don’t know what is!

  Go forth and share across social media with the links below. Looks like a Christmas engagement could be forthcoming!

  * * *

  Stefanie Ferguson paced the shining white floor of her sister-in-law’s home office in a pair of knee-high, spike-heel Christian Louboutin boots. Unlike the last public relations hiccup she’d gotten into with Blake, this one couldn’t be handled over a cup of coffee at Hip Stir.

  Late last night, she’d be
en sipping on hot cocoa with Sambuca when she received a text from Blake.

  Dallas Duchess has some news to share tomorrow. Me and you, gorgeous.

  She’d pecked in an angry “Go to hell” followed by “Leave me alone” and then erased both lines in favor of ignoring him.

  Lord only knew what he would’ve done with the screenshots if she’d texted him. It had taken everything in her not to respond to his baiting. Blake was Bad News with a capital B and N.

  Last year, he’d gone to the Dallas Duchess via one of her brother’s staff members to break the story about Miriam Andrix returning to Chase’s life. The write-up was in defense of Chase and almost lecturing Miriam for ruining the city’s chaste mayor. Ridiculous. It was clear to anyone who saw them together that Miriam and Chase were gaga over each other—even Stefanie could see that, and she was Chase’s sister.

  Blake’s original motivation for his nefarious smear campaign was building a new civic center, which he wanted to erect very close to Ferguson Oil property. Chase had been saying no for years. Blake had promised to “ruin him” if it was the last thing he did, as if he were some sort of mustache-twisting bandit.

  Stef reminded herself, again, that she hadn’t known the dirty details when Blake charmed her into his hotel bed one lonely night a few years back. She certainly had never expected him to release pictures of them leaving the hotel together.

  Penelope Ferguson had summoned a PR magic spell to bail Stef out of her Blake-related problem then, and she’d had a hand in smoothing over Chase and Miriam’s relationship last year. With Chase’s imminent reelection looming—Stef refused to consider the possibility of him losing—she had zero worries that Pen would be able to work her magic again and smooth this one over, as well.

  “You should’ve called me the second Blake the Snake sent you that text,” Penelope scolded from where she sat in front of her computer screen. Her full mouth was a firm line of displeasure, her eyes narrowed in frustration.

  Stef stopped pacing and wrapped herself protectively in her own arms. “It was late. I didn’t want to bother you.”

  And she hadn’t wanted her sister-in-law to hear the raw vulnerability in her voice. Stef might have refused to respond with the intent of letting Blake know how little he’d affected her, but in truth he had. Like the first time those hotel photos saw the light of day, she felt cheap and used.

  He’d been charming and—she’d thought—vulnerable the night he’d told her he wanted her. She’d been fresh off a breakup and vulnerable herself. A night with an attractive man who appreciated her—even one who disagreed with her brother the mayor—was supposed to have boosted her confidence and relieved a long drought of physical affection.

  They’d both been attending a boring fund-raiser at the time. Champagne had flowed and he’d been accommodating and, she knew now, lying. He’d been seeking revenge on Chase and would take any of the Fergusons as his pound of flesh. She’d allowed herself to be talked into going to bed with him and she still felt the sting of embarrassment and anger at her naïveté.

  The next day, the photos had surfaced and she’d been accused of slutting around with the mayor’s nemesis.

  And now this.

  “When was the fund-raiser where this was taken?” Pen turned her laptop screen to show the most recent leaked photo of Blake and Stef cheek to cheek on the dance floor.

  “Last weekend.”

  “You’re looking cozy.”

  “He asked me to dance by taking my hand and dragging me to the floor. I didn’t want to cause a scene by telling him where to shove his invitation.”

  She’d caused enough problems for her brother and his campaign. Chase didn’t hold her accountable, but she couldn’t unshoulder her fair share of responsibility.

  “What you don’t see in this photo is that I’m telling him off. I used some very unladylike language, hence my leaning in close. I told him if he didn’t leave me and my family alone, I’d castrate him with a pair of dull shears.”

  Stef smiled, proud. At least she’d stood up for herself then. Pen wasn’t smiling with her.

  “What you did was step into a snare of his making, Stefanie. Again.” Pen shook her head. “He timed the release of this photo on purpose, to coincide with the reelection. Why is he hinting that you two are going to be married?”

  Stef felt her cheeks warm as she recalled the rest of her conversation that night. “That...is partially my fault.”

  Pen raised her eyebrows and waited.

  Stef, you’ll be single forever with a mouth like that. You have to be a good little girl if you ever hope to land a husband. Blake had swept her in another circle on the dance floor while her ire had risen to dangerous levels.

  Ha! You’re one to talk. Is there a female on this planet who would willingly perch in your family tree or do you have to trick them all into going to bed with you?

  You came willingly. A few times if memory serves.

  “He was holding me tight, and twisting away didn’t loosen his hold on my waist.” Stef licked her lips, regretting her words now that she’d felt the sting of retaliation. “I may have mentioned something about a ‘tiny prick’ and ‘faking it’ and that if he didn’t let me go, I’d tell everyone within earshot how unsatisfying it was to be bedded by Blake the Snake.”

  Pen’s eyebrows climbed higher on her forehead, and just when Stef was sure she’d be read the riot act, her sister-in-law’s smile burst forth like the sun after a hard rain.

  “You know how to find trouble, don’t you?” Pen asked through a laugh. She must’ve caught Stef’s crestfallen features when she looked up because she was out of her chair in a shot. “I’m sorry I said that. Ignore me.”

  Pen grabbed Stef’s shoulders and Stef felt the wobble in her chin paired with heat behind her eyes.

  “I don’t try to.”

  “I didn’t mean it that way. Seriously.” Pen pulled Stef into a hug.

  Stef felt like a fragile piece of china lately, not wanting to be in the way of Chase’s campaign or too involved while Pen and Zach raised their daughter. Heck, even Mom and Dad were going through a second honeymoon phase, so Stef was trying to stay out from underfoot in that capacity, as well.

  “You can fix this.” Stef swallowed her budding tears. “You have unraveled some of the biggest knots in Dallas since you moved here. Tell me the easiest, fastest, most succinct way to crush this fake news.”

  “As a woman who had her own false engagement to contend with—” Pen smirked “—I have had experience with this sort of thing. Only the ‘groom’ was your brother and part of the plan.”

  “And Blake’s a renegade douchebag.”

  Of all the bad decisions Stef had made during her thirty brief years on this planet, why this one? Why had she fallen victim to that man’s false charms?

  “If you were anyone other than my sister-in-law, I’d advise you to get married.”

  “To Blake?” Stef practically shrieked.

  “No! My God. No. I’m saying the best way to trump Blake’s claim that he’s engaged to you is to marry someone else. Know any eligible bachelors?”

  Stef was staring in shock. This certainly wasn’t the advice she’d expected to get from Penelope.

  “I’m joking.” Pen gave Stef’s shoulders a little shake before moving back to her desk. Laptop open, she started typing. “I’ll craft a plan to detangle this mess that will work for you and your brother the mayor.”

  “Thank you.”

  Pen smiled up at her. “And I promise it won’t involve nuptials.”

  Two

  Emmett Keaton had been Chase Ferguson’s close friend, arguably his best friend, since college.

  He could say with authority that Chase rarely allowed his feathers to ruffle. But today his feathers weren’t only ruffled, they were scattered to the four corners of the earth.

/>   Since it was Emmett’s job to keep the mayor’s office safe, he’d have to assume the role of “the calm one” today. As the scandal currently wreaking havoc had to do with Stefanie, he found it challenging to bank his own anger.

  The youngest Ferguson had a talent for finding trouble.

  “When I get my hands on that sniveling weasel,” Chase grated out through teeth that were welded together, “I swear on everything holy—”

  “Chase.” Penelope—wife to Chase’s brother, Zach—stood in front of Chase’s desk, arms crossed. She was dressed in a white pantsuit, her long blond hair pulled into a neat twist at the back of her head. Her stance broadcast one undeniable truth: she wasn’t intimidated by power. She’d handled many a powerful man as a public relations specialist over the years, and had become a trusted friend when Chase hired her to care for Stef the first time she stepped in it with Blake fucking Eastwood.

  Because Chase trusted her, Emmett did, also.

  “I’ve got this,” Pen said. “You have nothing to worry about.”

  A muscle in Chase’s jaw ticked but he gave his sister-in-law a curt nod. She returned it with one of her own and spun on one very high-heeled shoe to leave.

  Once she was out the door, Chase glanced at Emmett with irises so dark they bordered on black.

  Chase punched a button on his phone. “Cynthia. Get my sister on the line.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Sure you want to do that, boss?” Emmett asked.

  Chase didn’t answer.

  A moment later, the desk phone rang.

  “Where the hell are you?” Chase barked into the receiver. A brief pause and then, “You have thirty seconds.” He slammed the phone down on its base and glared at the only target in the room. Emmett took the blow without flinching. “She was already on her way.”

  “Good.”

  Chase needed to redirect his anger? Fine.

  It was better than him unleashing it on Stefanie.

  The door burst open almost exactly thirty seconds later. Stefanie strode into the office in a short red designer dress, tall boots with dangerous-looking heels and a painted pout in siren red.