Misbehaving Under the Mistletoe: On the First Night of Christmas... / Secrets of the Rich & Famous / Truth-Or-Date.com. Heidi Rice
hasn’t,’ Cassie mumbled, remembering the ‘have I slept with you?’ remark.
‘Maybe. Maybe not. But one thing I do remember,’ Nessa countered. ‘He was always real careful not to be doing more than one girl at once. He was never a cheater,’ she finished pointedly.
‘Great!’ Cassie puffed out a breath. ‘So he’s a serial monogamist. So what? He’s still far too dangerous a man for me to get involved with at the moment. I’m through having my dreams trampled on … and I’ve got to take some of the responsibility for that. I’ve got to be proactive from now on, and make sure I only have realistic dreams.’
‘Realistic dreams!’ Nessa scoffed. ‘Where’s the fun in that? That sounds more boring than one of my Aunt Chantelle’s Bible-study classes.’
‘The fun is,’ Cassie said mildly, ‘with realistic dreams, you might actually have some hope of them coming true.’
THE loud buzz of the doorbell cut through the hum of the radio. Cassie’s hand jerked and the newly reconstructed Sugar Plum took it on the nose again.
‘Oh, for Pete’s sake!’ She glared at the white card, the intricate design of gossamer wings, willowy body and delicate features ruined a second time.
It had been two hours since Nessa had left and Cassie had set to work recreating her original drawing. After her chat with her best friend, her nerves had finally stopped jitterbugging enough for her to pick up her pen without risking another mishap. And to be honest she had to get this design done today. It was the twenty-first of December tomorrow. She had to get the cards printed this afternoon or she’d risk not getting them in the post in time for Christmas. Something she’d never failed to do before.
The doorbell buzzed longer and louder. Dumping the pen and picking up her washcloth, she marched to her front door. She had lots of friends and neighbours who often popped round to see her unannounced, but this was ridiculous. She’d put a sign on the door after Nessa left so she could draw in peace for the rest of the afternoon, and also because she’d wanted a bit of time to contemplate the revelations she’d finally discovered about herself in the last twenty-four hours.
Her body would always regret having to turn Jace down, and it would have been wonderful to indulge herself over Christmas, but she was coming to terms with the fact that she’d done the right thing. Now all she had to do was persuade her hormones. And the best way to do that was to stop thinking about what she’d left behind in The Chesterton hotel suite this morning and start concentrating on her Christmas card design. Unfortunately her friends were not playing along.
Slipping the deadbolt lose, she wrenched open the door.
‘Can’t you read, you …?’ Her hormones sprang into a brand new jitterbug as her gaze landed on the tall man standing on her doorstep with his hand braced against the door jamb and his pure green eyes glittering with annoyance.
‘Jace? What are you doing here?’ she whispered, her breath backing up in her lungs.
He straightened. ‘What the hell do you think I’m doing here?’ He marched past her into the flat, instantly making her tiny living room shrink to shoe-box size.
‘I …’ Her gaze devoured the broad shoulders accentuated by the black leather bomber jacket, the thick waves of dark brown hair brushed back in untidy furrows from that striking face. She was so shocked to see him. She didn’t have a clue what to say. Why had he tracked her down? The bump in her heartbeat, which she had spent the day telling herself she had to ignore, kicked in again.
‘You ran out on me!’ He thrust his fingers through his hair, and she realised where the furrows had come from. ‘I wake up and you’re gone. No note. No nothing. How’s that for a double standard?’ He rested his hands on his waist, sent her an accusatory look. ‘Because if a guy does that to a girl, it’s considered incredibly tacky.’
He didn’t just sound annoyed, she realised. She could hear the low growl of carefully controlled temper vibrating in his voice. And see the muscle clenching in his jaw. Had he been hurt by her silent departure? It didn’t seem possible. But at the thought the little bump in her heartbeat took a sudden unexpected leap.
‘I had to get home,’ she said as guilt made the fine hairs on the back of her neck prickle. ‘And you were fast asleep,’ she added, struggling not to sound too defensive. She hadn’t intended to hurt him. ‘I didn’t think you would want me to wake you.’
‘Oh, come on!’ He stepped forward, towering over her, his scowl darkening and the muscle in his jaw twitching. ‘We used a whole box of condoms last night. I got so deep inside you that last time I could feel your heart beating. Don’t start pretending you didn’t know me well enough to at least give me the courtesy of a goodbye.’
The blunt words made heat pulse low in her abdomen. Colour exploded in her cheeks, but not before she realised something crucial. She hadn’t hurt him. She’d insulted him. And that was entirely different.
‘I’m sorry I left without saying goodbye,’ she said carefully, feeling monumentally stupid. After everything she’d said to Nessa today, after everything she’d finally discovered about herself, how could she have been led astray by her romantic nature again so soon? ‘I really didn’t think you’d be that bothered.’
‘Yeah, well, think again,’ he snarled, so close now she could smell him, that devastating musk of man and soap. He cupped her head, drew her against him. She gasped, stunned by the unexpected contact, and the fierce arousal in his gaze, and then his mouth was on hers.
He thrust his tongue between her parted lips. Her hands braced against his chest, but instead of shoving him back, as she’d intended, her fingers curled into the soft sweater, the forceful strokes of his tongue igniting the heat at her core, and sending it burning through her system like a forest fire.
When he finally lifted his head, both of them were breathing heavily.
He dropped his hand, looking as shocked as she felt at the instant and violent attraction that had blazed to life in seconds.
Last night had been fun, flirty and intense, but only ever in a sexual sense. Why should a simple kiss feel more intimate?
‘I’m sorry,’ he murmured, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket. ‘That was out of order. I guess I was more pissed off than I realised.’
‘That’s okay,’ she said, feeling both stunned and wary. Although it wasn’t okay. Not really, but not for the reasons he thought. She’d welcomed the kiss, her body reacting instinctively to it. So how on earth was she going to get her jitterbugging hormones back under control now? And how was she going to persuade herself that she didn’t care what she was giving up, when her body would probably never stop reminding her?
‘It was rude of me to leave without saying anything,’ she whispered.
He propped his butt on the edge of the sofa. Hitched his shoulders as he shoved his fists deeper into his pockets. ‘You never gave me an answer.’ A crooked smile lifted his lips. ‘I guess I’m not used to women doing that. I wasn’t expecting you to be gone this morning.’
It was as she suspected. His ego had been dented. Nothing more dramatic than that.
He levered himself off the sofa. ‘Let me ask again, the way I should have done when I walked in. Instead of giving you a hard time.’
And a kiss that had nearly blown the top of her head off, Cassie added silently as he took one hand out of his pocket and touched her cheek.
She shivered, the contact as electric as it had been a moment ago, even though he was barely touching her.
He stroked his thumb across her lips. ‘How do you feel about hanging out with me, till I go back to