Snowbound Seduction: A Night of No Return / To Claim His Heir by Christmas / I'll Be Yours for Christmas. Sarah Morgan
they’d shared had meant anything to him but a way of getting through a bad time. There was no evidence now of the unspeakable agony she’d witnessed the night before. Whatever dark, savage emotions had gripped him in the bitter cold of the night had been chased away by the morning light. Lucas Jackson was back in control, those secrets buried deep under layers of self-discipline.
She, however, felt emotionally and physically wrecked.
He was already dressed, in black jeans and a black sweater that added emphasis to powerful shoulders. His choice of clothes was casual, and yet there was still an innate sophistication about him, an effortless style that was evident in everything he did.
Through her moment of panic came the memories. Memories of how those shoulders had felt under her fingers, the ripple of male muscle and hard strength. Memories of how it had felt to touch him and be touched. Strange, she thought, how even that unscheduled glimpse of vulnerability hadn’t seemed like weakness. There was nothing weak about this man.
They hadn’t even talked about it, she realised. Not really. All she knew was that he blamed himself for the death of his daughter. Other than that she had no details and, judging from the grim set of his mouth, he had no intention of offering any.
This was the man she knew. The Lucas Jackson she recognised. And of course that made it worse, because this man was her boss.
Which really only left her with one course of action.
Emma stood up slowly, as if by taking her time a miracle might happen and she might somehow know what to say. And he was obviously waiting for her to speak. That intense blue gaze, always more perceptive than most people’s, held hers for longer than was comfortable. And although it seemed shallow to care about such things, she was acutely conscious of how appalling she must look. She had that exhausted, gritty-eyed feeling that followed a night of seriously reduced sleep so she knew she’d be pale. And she knew she’d look rumpled because, although she’d pulled on clothes, she hadn’t had time to do more than smooth her hair and after the way he’d treated it the night before it tumbled in a wild mess over her shoulders.
As awkward moments went, this one reigned supreme.
‘Hi. Good morning—’ Oh God, this was awful. She cleared her throat, thinking that it was impossible to sound businesslike when faced with a man who had intimate knowledge of every part of your body. ‘I just need to make a quick phone call and then I’ll be out of your way.’
The last thing she wanted was to talk about what had happened, so she was relieved when he said nothing. Instead, he continued to study her as if he were seeking an answer to something. And Emma soon discovered that his scrutiny was every bit as uncomfortable as any conversation would have been. The way he was looking at her unsettled her so badly that in the end she turned away and rescued her shoes from their place in front of the fire. The snow had made a mess of them, but at least they were dry and putting them on gave her something to do and made her feel more dressed, somehow.
Wanting to escape as fast as possible, knowing that she was already going to be in trouble, she dug her hand in her bag and pulled out her phone. ‘I need to call Jamie,’ she muttered, ‘and tell him I’ll be back later. He’ll be worried that I didn’t make it home last night. He’s already called this morning but my phone was off.’
‘Are you sure he’ll be worried? You’re that close, are you?’ His hard tone held a hint of scepticism and she looked up, shocked and confused by the question.
Was this just about the fact he was annoyed with her for staying when he’d wanted to be alone? Was he cross that he’d woken to find that someone was the wrong side of his castle moat?
‘Of course. I did tell him I’d be late but he wasn’t expecting me to not make it home at all.’
Those blue eyes didn’t shift from her face. ‘And how is he going to feel when he finds out you had sex with me?’ His blunt question was so unexpected she gave a soft gasp.
‘Well, obviously I won’t be mentioning that part.’
One dark eyebrow lifted and the faintest of smiles touched his hard mouth. That same mouth that had kissed her to oblivion the night before. The same mouth that had caressed its way down her shivering, compliant body. ‘If that’s your plan then you’d better learn not to blush or he’ll see right through you.’
Suddenly she was angry with him. And yes, with herself. It was embarrassingly unsophisticated to have a morning-after encounter with a face the shade of a tomato, especially when he seemed to be treating the whole episode with something that came close to indifference. No romantic words then, she thought numbly. No soft smiles or gentle touches to smooth the transition from passionate to professional. And maybe she should be grateful for that, Emma thought, as she strived to match his detached approach. She would have liked to look calm and businesslike and sail out of his life with her dignity intact but she knew there was very little chance of that. ‘Jamie doesn’t think the way you do.’
‘No?’ His expression revealed nothing of his thoughts. ‘What if you’re wrong? What if he guesses?’
‘Why would he guess? It’s not exactly the sort of thing we talk about.’
‘And yet you claim to be close?’
‘We’re close but I’m hardly going to tell him I slept with you, am I?’
‘I’m no expert on relationships, but I can imagine that would make things pretty awkward.’ His tone was scrupulously polite, as if they were in the office discussing a project. ‘And if that’s the way you want to play it, that’s fine with me. But I do have one question before we turn to more practical matters.’
Practical matters? ‘What question?’
There was silence, and that silence stretched from seconds to a full minute. A full minute that she counted out with each beat of her heart. And not once in that time did he stop looking at her. Not once did his gaze flicker from hers.
When he finally broke that silence, his voice was soft. ‘If your relationship with Jamie is “close”,’ he drawled, ‘why did you have sex with me?’
HE WATCHED as the colour deepened in her cheeks. On one level she fascinated him because everything about her was fresh and unexpected. Or perhaps it was just that he was jaded and cynical. Too jaded and cynical for someone like her. If circumstances had been different then perhaps, just perhaps, the conversation they were about to have would also have been different. But he couldn’t change the way he felt. Or rather, the way he didn’t feel.
If he hadn’t already regretted the madness that had driven him to take what she’d offered in the dark of the night then he regretted it now because it was all too easy to guess how she was feeling. It was written all over her face.
For her, it hadn’t been about living in the moment. It had been significant. And if there was one thing he didn’t look for in a relationship, it was significance. He was quite possibly the worst man she could have found herself trapped with in a snowstorm. And perhaps she knew that because right now she wasn’t looking at him. All he could see was her profile. The curve of her cheeks, slightly pinker than usual, the swoop of those dark eyelashes as she focused her gaze on the snowy landscape that isolated them as effectively as any moat.
It was up to him to unravel the mess.
‘Emma?’ He kept his voice neutral, knowing that the way he played the next few minutes was crucial. He didn’t want her to misinterpret what had happened between them. He didn’t want her yearning for something that wasn’t going to happen. Most of all he didn’t want her ending her relationship over it, even if that relationship seemed pathetically lacking to him. ‘Emma?’ He repeated her name more firmly and this time she turned, her expression confused.
‘I don’t really understand your question.’
Which