Misbehaving Under the Mistletoe: On the First Night of Christmas... / Secrets of the Rich & Famous / Truth-Or-Date.com. Heidi Rice
table and anchored the errant curl of hair that had fallen across Cassie’s cheek back behind her ear.
‘How’s the food?’ he asked.
‘Delicious,’ she said, and his gut tightened right up again.
He’d always had a bad habit, he thought wryly, of finding the forbidden irresistible. That was why he’d spent a night redecorating the school gym at seventeen and ended up getting arrested. And it was also why he’d been unable to resist sleeping with his main investor’s daughter years later, and got trapped in a marriage of convenience that had caused him no end of headaches. He thought he’d learned to curb the impulse to do something he knew he would later regret.
But as Cassie’s gaze flicked back to her plate the dangerous impulse took charge of his tongue and he heard himself saying, ‘Correct me if I’m wrong, Cassidy, but I got the impression earlier that you’re not a veteran of really amazing sex?’
Cassie jerked her chin up, stunned by the perceptive question. And what it might mean. Why had he asked that? And how did he know? Was her lack of proficiency that obvious?
She pushed out a laugh. ‘Why would you think that?’ she scoffed, deciding to bluff. Unfortunately, the colour charging into her cheeks wasn’t exactly playing along.
He pushed his plate aside, the quizzical smile he sent her making the colour charge faster.
‘There’s no need to be embarrassed,’ he said, not just calling her bluff, but trampling all over it. ‘I’m surprised, that’s all.’ Placing his hands behind his head, he stretched back as he studied her, making the chair creak and the robe fall open revealing a tantalising glimpse of those mouth-watering abdominal muscles.
She reached for her champagne flute, trying not to follow the line of hair bisecting his abs, which she now knew arrowed down to something even more enticing.
‘You’re a beautiful woman, with an extremely passionate nature,’ he said, his voice so low she was sure she could feel it reverberating across some of the tender places he’d explored so thoroughly earlier in the evening. ‘I just wondered why you haven’t indulged it more?’
She gulped and put the glass down, grateful that she hadn’t taken a sip of the champagne yet.
An extremely passionate nature! Had he actually said that? About her?
She was both stunned and flattered by his assessment, and her heart squeezed a little. It had never been her fault that first David then Lance couldn’t remain faithful, and now she had indisputable proof. Jace Ryan, who was a much more talented man than either of them would ever be, found her beautiful and extremely passionate.
She felt both vindicated and empowered by the thought, and her recently activated flirt gene flickered back to life. ‘Because, of course, you’d be an expert on that,’ she teased, determined to steer the conversation away from anything too personal. She certainly didn’t plan to talk about her past relationships with men, because that would ruin the nice little buzz from his compliment.
One dark brow lifted. ‘An expert on what?’
‘Indulging an extremely passionate nature.’
He huffed out a laugh. ‘Guilty as charged.’ Tilting his chair forward, he stood up. Taking her hands in his, he tugged her out of the chair. ‘But I definitely think your extremely passionate nature needs a lot more indulgence. And tonight I’m more than happy to sacrifice myself for the cause.’
Her pulse points pounded.
How easy would it have been for her to start tumbling into love with a man as overpowering as Jace Ryan last Christmas, with a lot less encouragement than really amazing sex and a few casual compliments? But luckily now she was much more pragmatic. He didn’t know anything about her or her past, so he couldn’t possibly know how much this night meant to her.
And she had no intention of letting him find out.
‘That’s very noble of you,’ she whispered cheekily, glad to have deflected his questioning so easily.
He gave the tie on her robe a slow tug, until it released, the flaps falling open. His rough palms brushed around her waist and cupped her bare bottom. ‘I thought so,’ he said, a mischievous gleam in his eyes as moisture flooded between her thighs.
He pushed the robe off her shoulders and she gave a soft gasp as it dropped to the floor. Then yelped as he lifted her into his arms.
‘Time for your next lesson,’ he said as he carried her into the bathroom. ‘Really amazing sex in a whirlpool tub.’
She clasped her arms round his neck and clung on, laughing while her senses stampeded into overdrive—the tight squeeze in her heart drowned out by the frantic beat of arousal and the loud splash as he dumped her into warm scented water.
‘I ’M GOING to be stuck in London on business until New Year’s Day,’ Jace’s voice murmured in Cassie’s ear, his soap-slicked hands cupping her heavy breasts and lazily teasing the nipples with his thumbs. ‘Have you got any plans for the Christmas period?’
A little shocked by the renewed jolt of heat, and a lot more shocked by the casual enquiry, Cassie shifted in his lap, feeling the heavy arousal nestled between her legs, and her heart leapt into her throat.
After they’d soaped each other into a frenzy, he’d insisted she sit on the edge of the huge tub so he could take her into his mouth. She’d never felt anything so exquisite in her life before, the rough, expert play of his tongue on her sensitised clitoris quickly becoming more than she could bear. But when she’d come down from the intense high, the look of satisfaction on his face had made her feel ever so slightly vulnerable.
She was feeling a lot more vulnerable now.
‘Why do you ask?’ And why had her heart just rocketed into her throat at his question? He couldn’t be suggesting what she thought he was suggesting? Could he? That they should extend their one-night fling?
He rubbed his palms over the rigid peaks and chuckled when a moan slipped out. ‘Because I want more time to play with you while I’m here. One night isn’t going to be enough.’
There it was again, the smug tone of voice—and the bump of her heart in her throat.
‘The water’s getting cold,’ she said, levering herself out of his lap.
But before she could climb out, his large hands bracketed her hips, holding her in place. ‘Why didn’t you answer my question?’ he said as she glanced over her shoulder.
He didn’t look hurt or offended. Why would he? But even so she couldn’t quite bring herself to give him a straight answer. The desire to say yes to his suggestion was so powerful, she knew it had to be a bad idea.
She wasn’t the naive little twit she’d been for the first twenty-seven years of her life. She’d turned a corner in the last ten months and she would never go back to that. Believing all the empty promises her father had told her as a child, only to be left devastated when he never lived up to any of them. Or falling for David at art college, only to be told she wasn’t what he was looking for. Or, worst of all, accepting a proposal from a man who, during the whole three years he’d bunked at her flat while he was ‘between jobs’, she now suspected had never been faithful to her.
But while she knew she had finally learned her lesson with Lance—that men were about as reliable as the electrical appliances you bought from a door-to-door salesman—she wasn’t at all happy about the way her heart was leaping about in her chest. Just as it had done all those years ago when her father had rung up from Tokyo or Rome or San Francisco to tell her he’d definitely see her that weekend … Or when Lance had got down on one knee on the tiny balcony of her flat on Valentine’s Day and asked her to marry