Be Mine This Christmas: A Lovers in London Book Read online

  Be Mine This Christmas

  by Mary Lynn Cooper

  Darcey’s Story

  A Lovers in London Book

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be used, reproduced, or transmitted in any form or by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author, except in the case of brief quotations for articles and reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  In loving memory of our earthly angels Bu, Johnny and Auntie Juveille

  Missing you most at Christmas time.

  Acknowledgement

  Firstly, we would like give all the glory to God and His son Jesus, the real reason for Christmas. What started as a project for our friends and family became a book that is part of a series of novels based in London.

  We want to thank our friends in the ‘He's the One’ book club, especially Karen Rabanzo, Angeli Totengco De la Pena, Paula Javelosa, Ann Yap and Crissy Villa for their support and enthusiasm that made writing this worthwhile.

  We’re very grateful to our author friend Pamela Ann for her full support for this book and her much needed advice.

  To our family and closest friends, whose love and memory allowed us to bring to life our characters, to the special people who brought warmth to the festive season, thank you from the bottom of our hearts. We hope that this book will give you a romantic and heart-warming story of love and Christmas magic.

  And lastly to a special young man, whose love always made Christmas something to look forward. What are you doing for New Year's Eve?

  Mary Lynn Cooper

  Mary Lynn Cooper

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  Blog: MLCooperBooks.com

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  Mary Lynn Cooper’s Other Book:

  Always, My Valentine (Trisha’s Story)

  Damn you, Matthew Philippe Warwick!

  For as long as Trisha Valentine James can remember, Matthew has been obnoxious, rude, condescending…with the most beautiful green eyes she has ever seen. She tries to forget their painful past, along with the longing she holds deep in her heart for the smart, wealthy and funny bachelor. But it’s not so easy to forget one of London’s most eligible bachelors, not when he dances the waltz with you under the evening sky.

  And just when she thinks she has it all figured out, Matthew walks back into her life. What’s a girl to do? Despite having a beautiful face, a stellar career and a hefty trust fund at her disposal, Trisha can’t seem to grasp the love of the man she’s wanted all her life.

  And if seeing him again wasn’t enough to throw Trisha off, he pulls her out of the comforts of her work, her adorable friends, Luis and Darcey, and thrusts her into the limelight, into a world where gossip bloggers and the paparazzi can’t get enough of London’s elite. With a champagne flute in one hand and the arm of a dashing date in another, can Trisha handle the heat?

  And when Matthew brings along his two equally gorgeous brothers, Leo and Marcus Warwick, into the mix, Trisha just might be writing checks her heart can't cash.

  Join Trisha as she figures out how to forget Matthew and allow her heart to heal, land the promotion she’s been eyeing and escape the glare of the tabloids. Dine with her at the most opulent places in London, mingle with her friends at parties fit for the crème de la crème, and fall in love with a former flame that even time can’t seem to extinguish.

  With an amazing ex-boyfriend trying to find his way back into her life, and from a sexy yet vicious Spanish heiress to a pretty but flirty Danish princess clinging to the arms of the one man she truly loves, will Trisha watch her stock plummet? Or will her story end with both a business and marriage proposal?

  Find out in Always, My Valentine. (2-Chapter Excerpt found at the end of this book)

  Always, My Valentine by Mary Lynn Cooper

  Available on Amazon:

  US: http://amzn.com/B01B2E5EOY

  UK: http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B01B2E5EOY

  CA: http://www.amazon.ca/dp/B01B2E5EOY

  AU: http://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B01B2E5EOY

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1: Darcey Meets Superman

  Chapter 2: Nick the Chef

  Chapter 3: The Embarrassing Interview

  Chapter 4: Chance Encounter at the Savoy

  Chapter 5: Rain and Superman

  Chapter 6: Carmen Meets Nick

  Chapter 7: Dinner with Nathan

  Chapter 8: Truth or Dare

  Chapter 9: Speaking of Undates

  Chapter 10: A Family Affair

  Chapter 11: Heading Home

  Chapter 12: Dinner with Superman

  Chapter 13: The Football Match

  Chapter 14: Nick’s Midnight Treat

  Chapter 15: Romance on the Skating Rink

  Chapter 16: Romance on the Boat

  Chapter 17: Nathan has a Cold

  Chapter 18: Nick Tells Darcey

  Chapter 19: Confession of a Greek Heir

  Chapter 20: An Odd Dinner Party

  Chapter 21: Carmen’s Christmas Wish

  Chapter 22: Afternoon Tea with a Monster

  Chapter 23: The Trio Celebrates

  Chapter 24: Goodbye, Sweet Angel

  Chapter 25: The Drive to the Ball

  Chapter 26: Meeting the Ex-Girlfriend

  Chapter 27: The Winning Dance

  Chapter 28: The First Goodbye

  Chapter 29: Love is Letting Go

  Chapter 30: Be Mine This Christmas

  Chapter 1

  The sun's rays splashed across the horizon, sending bright lights through the blinds. Her heavy eyelids began to open. Thanks to a rough night with barely enough hours of sleep, Darcey fought the urge to call in sick.

  Darcey groaned and quietly begged God to stop time just so she could get a few more hours of sleep. But, on cue, the blaring sound of her alarm clock woke her up from slumber.

  She used to sleep through her alarm and was constantly late but her good friend told her to place the alarm as far as possible from the bed. This gave her no choice but to get up from her warm cosy bed to stop the annoying alarm.

  It was six in the morning. She dragged her very knackered body and struggled to get out of her duvet. Although the sun decided to come out and sprinkle some warmth, the London weather could be unpredictable and gloomy. She stared at her half awake self: her bed hair, a slob of dried saliva from last night.

  Oh my gosh, I really don’t look human.

  She took her toothbrush and toothpaste off the shelf and, like a robot, brushed her teeth. Still half asleep, she washed whatever last night's residue left on her face.

  Today should have been a day like any other day. Like other days her daily routine consisted of drinking a cup of black coffee and going to a morning run at a park next to her flat.

  After brushing her teeth, Darcey set off for her daily run. One could see the sun that shone over the foggy park while smelling the earth as the mist of the evening still lingered, slowly replacing the smell of the new day. Birds dove and fluttered in plain view as they glided across the man-made lake. The usual joggers were there.

  Darcey hated jogging and pretended to run whenever she saw other people p
ass by. She didn’t want to look like an idiot, walking like a slow cow while everyone else was exerting effort. Next to her she felt like they were training for the Olympics.

  Despite her meagre efforts, she forced herself to do some walking. The scale of late didn’t seem to be lying.

  Suddenly, she stepped on something.

  Crap! What a great way to start my day. Why can’t people be more responsible for their dog’s waste! She murmured to herself as she tried to rub the dirt off her shoe on the pavement. She walked home furiously.

  As she was walking back from the park, Darcey pushed her way into the closing lift and there he was standing, looking like a model from a men's magazine. She almost froze. No, she froze.

  The man asked, “Are you coming in?”

  “Fourth floor, please,” she whispered almost like a mouse.

  Is he my new neighbour?

  Hallelujah! She had to stop herself from a sudden outburst of religiosity. Flushed and sweaty from her walk, the sound of pop music played loudly and in a rather annoying way through her earphones.

  She got on the lift and did a short stop. Darcey got a better look of his handsome face, angular jaw, tanned skin and deep set brown eyes. His eye colour had the shade of velvety chocolate. His nose was prominent but not too pointy, while his lips were slightly opened to form a half smile.

  Darcey offered a shy smile and looked away as he pressed the button for the fourth floor. She stood next to him and stole a look. With that look she noticed his tall and athletic body. It was unfairly covered by a trench coat.

  He smelled musky, like aftershave, the cool breeze of the Sardinian sea, a clean crisp smell. It was the longest ride she had taken on the lift and she felt like she was holding her breath. She felt claustrophobic.

  Thankfully, her anxieties were interrupted. The door stopped on her floor. She gave him a nod, noticing his Prada shoes at the same time.

  My new neighbour is a hunk of a guy, one who has impeccable taste in clothes, she thought. She quickly dialled her best friend's number as she walked off the lift.

  "You won't believe this but I think Superman lives in my building!" she tattled over the phone.

  "Darling, Superman is American and he lives in Smallville. I apologize but I'm awfully late to a client meeting. To think I only had an energy drink! I was up all night preparing my reports for this very important meeting with my French clients. As much I would love to toast champagne on this awesome discovery of Superman and you, can I call back once my meeting is over? And please, I am glad you like Superman because I prefer Batman!”

  Luis, so dramatic and entertaining. Darcey bid him goodbye, using the most polite tone her governess would have been proud of.

  She thought of calling Trisha, the third friend in the trio of Darcey’s best friends. Trisha was an account manager from one of the city banks. A driven, intelligent, beautiful person, Trish emanated self-confidence and authority. Sometimes one would wonder how she and Darcey became best friends. Darcey decided against it, thinking Trisha was probably busy. Unlike Darcey, her blonde friend had it all together.

  Darcey, on the other hand, was the complete opposite. She barely passed her exams. She was never sure if writing was the right course for her. Ever since she graduated from university, she had a difficult time finding a job in any publishing company or newspaper agency.

  Meanwhile, Trisha owned a flat in Canary Wharf. True, Darcey didn’t live in a completely dodgy area. She called the ‘posh aside’ of Finsbury Park home, an apartment beside a Punjabi Restaurant. She liked to joke that instead of stopping to smell the flowers, she ended up stopping for some take-away curry instead.

  The flat was an old building with modern facilities. Everything outside looked ancient, but inside was a new world of technology sprinkled with Ikea-bought furniture. Simple, minimal, clean.

  “At least we have CCTV and a concierge,” she often would say.

  Darcey graduated with a Masters degree in creative writing. It was a competitive field and she ended up as a personal assistant to the wife of a CEO from a huge conglomerate The only reason she got hired was, using her boss’s exact words: "You have a degree and you speak more than one language. Of course you’d know that dry clean is dry clean even if it was written in French.”

  Most people wondered why someone with a postgraduate degree would settle as a PA.

  During her interview, she answered boldly, sticking to the honest route.

  "I need to pay rent.” She would then plead with her eyes. It remained a mystery whether it was her sheer honesty about needing a job or the fact that she had a better resume than her boss. Perhaps her boss needed a PA right away. The last PA quit after a week of work.

  Darcey fished for her keys and walked into her quaint and untidy flat. She grabbed the scattered letters off the floor. Credit card bills, more bills, pizza delivery, Chinese takeaway advert, TV licensing reminding her once more to pay or be penalized.

  Frustrated and annoyed, she wailed. “I do not own a telly! How many times do I need to tell them!”

  She scanned the letters and found a letter of invitation to a wedding. It was going to be the fourth one she was attending that year. She recalled the weddings she attended--one was in Southport, a place where one of her friends from university married. That particular friend met her husband while playing a multiplayer online game.

  Then there was her friend Shelby who met her husband from an online dating website called Soulmatematch.com.

  Darcey was happy for her friends and was never envious but she often wondered if she needed to go online to find a match. It seemed everyone was meeting everyone else online.

  At thirty she didn’t feel the pressure of finding the one and settle down. But it didn’t help that her mother never failed to remind her of her responsibility of producing an heir, not that there was a Vaughn fortune to give away. Her family was comfortably middle class. But more annoying than her mother’s demands, Darcey was constantly reminded of how she couldn’t even afford to get married and how her mother was the only one amongst friends who didn’t have a grandchild to dote on. And to add to her misery, her other best friend from the trio, Luis, recently asked her if she had 5,000 pounds. Why? Perhaps she could consider freezing her eggs.

  Luis’ comments ran through her head as she held the wedding invitation in her hands.

  Really? I am only thirty, not fifty! What in the flipping world? Am I really that hopeless of a case? The desperate types I've been reading about in the magazine between work? Perhaps I’m going through the Peter Pan Syndrome? The person with no mortgage, no husband, no kids, no proper job, refusing to grow up?

  With surrender she sighed. She glanced at the clock, staring at it as if it were a time bomb. She dragged her feet to her bedroom and took off her clothes. Grabbing her towel, she went in for a warm and soothing shower.

  While shampooing her hair, Darcey thought about her past relationships. She thought of Ollie, her first serious boyfriend--good looking, great smile, good-natured and almost a perfect guy. There was only one problem: Ollie’s job took him to Russia and he fell for a gorgeous Russian model.

  Heartbroken and devastated, Darcey never truly trusted men after that betrayal. Each time she met someone, she never took them seriously. A few dates later she would get bored and it was over for that relationship. She never truly felt the same way she once felt for Ollie. Her self-confidence also slowly disappeared along with her feelings for him.

  She would tell her best friends, “Who would even date me? I have a pathetic excuse for a job, I gained a stone since the breakup and I don’t know what I want.”

  The shower poured like a strong gush of rain. She let her tears fall. This way, she reminded herself, she couldn’t know the difference between her tears and the water.

  She dried her hair with a small towel and wrapped her long brown hair into a turban. The towel had her initials on it, her mother embroidered and gifted the item to her the previous Christmas. />
  As she walked out of the bathroom she heard a soft tap on her front door. She ignored it the first time, hoping it was just a mistake, or perhaps it came from her neighbour’s door.

  But the knock became demanding. Darcey ran to the door, forgetting the fact that she was only wrapped in a towel. She opened the door and she found herself staring at the stunning neighbour she met on the lift just some few minutes ago. He took something from his coat pocket--headphones, her headphones.

  With a bright cheeky smile on his face, eyes that danced with humour, and with a thick Greek accent, he said, "You dropped this inside the lift. I didn't notice until I got to my floor."

  Five long seconds passed. Droplets slowly dripped from the tendrils of her hair. She finally answered, stammering and flushed, "Oh, thank you, um…?”

  "Dimitri Stenolakis, and who would you might be?” was the curt reply.

  Dimitri extended his right hand and Darcey took it with nervous hands.

  She made an effort to steady her voice with little luck, replying, "My name's Darcey. Darcey Vaughn. Nice to meet you, Dimitri. I, um…Bye.” With that said, she smiled shyly and waved.