Her Christmas Temptation: The Billionaire Who Bought Christmas / What She Really Wants for Christmas / Baby, It's Cold Outside. Debbi Rawlins
of gouda. “What about you? Did the gypsy tell you your fortune?”
“That she did.”
“What was it?”
He shook his head. “Uh-uh. Your turn to share.”
“My life’s boring compared to yours. Did your fortune come true?”
“Not so far.”
“Well, what was it?”
He helped himself to a slice of havarti and a small, round cracker. “What do I get in return?”
“Twins?”
“Ha!” He nearly choked on the cracker.
“What do you want?”
He stared at her intently for a moment, while the waterfall roared, the breeze waved the mesquite trees, and the birds continued to twitter amidst the big, empty desert.
Kristy grew hot, then cold, and then very confused by her intense desire to kiss him.
“I’ll trade you for a secret,” he finally said.
She swallowed. “I don’t have any secrets.”
“Everybody has secrets.”
“Not me.”
Except maybe the fact that she wanted to kiss him. She hadn’t murdered anyone or knocked over a bank. She occasionally didn’t answer the phone when she knew it was her mother—especially if it was a Friday night, and she had a sappy movie on DVD and a pint of triple fudge chunk in the freezer.
But he wasn’t getting that one. No way.
Jack watched her expression for a long moment. “Your first lover,” he said.
Her throat went tight, and her voice came out as a squeak. “What?”
“Tell me about your first lover.”
She drained her wineglass, stalling for time. “I don’t think so.”
“How old were you?”
“How old were you?”
“Seventeen.”
“Really?” Despite herself, her curiosity was piqued, as was her imagination. She closed her eyes and gave her head a shake.
“How old were you?” he asked again, his voice husky against the birds and the breeze.
Kristy sighed. Fine. “Twenty.”
He reached behind him for the wine bottle and topped up both of their glasses. “Ah. Late bloomer.”
“No. An absolutely perfect bloomer.”
Jack grinned at her expression. “Who was he?”
“A boy I met in college. It was in his dorm room and completely unmemorable. Now, are you destined to cross oceans? Father many children? Fly to the moon?”
“Buy a golf course.”
He looked completely serious.
“What the heck kind of a fortune is that?” For this she’d told him about her first lover?
“The gypsy was a fake, Kristy.”
“She was right about Hunter.”
“The law of averages was right about Hunter. He’s dated a whole lot of women of varying hair colors.”
“But a golf course? That was all she told you?”
Jack hesitated. His eyes twitched, and he got a funny, faraway look in them. “No,” he said. “She also told me I was going to marry a woman I didn’t trust.”
“I suppose that’s better than having twins.”
It was Jack’s turn to drain his glass. “I suppose. You want to swim?”
“It’s too cold. And we don’t have suits.”
He came to his feet, placing the empty glass on the top of the plastic cooler. “There’s nobody around for miles.”
She stood with him. “You’re around.”
“I won’t look.”
“I might.” The thought came out her mouth before she could censor it.
“There it is,” he said softly.
“What?”
“Your secret.”
CHAPTER FIVE
THEY didn’t swim. But Jack had accomplished his mission. Kristy was getting to know him, and she was still attracted to him. He was halfway home.
The helicopter had picked them up and ferried them back to the hotel. In the interest of time, Jack had made arrangements for the rental car to be picked up at the hot air balloon base. That gave them time for a shopping spree before dinner and Cirque du Soleil.
He picked Addias Comte, a shop just off the strip in an exclusive mall.
At first, Kristy resisted the idea of him buying her clothes. But he insisted and prevailed. And, after trying on a few outfits, she got into the spirit of the adventure.
“I’m not even coming out in this one,” she called from behind the door of the spacious changing room.
“You have to come out,” he countered, sitting up straight in the leather armchair in the richly appointed alcove at the back of Addias Comte.
Silence.
“Kristy?”
“It’s …”
“What?”
“Fine.” The door opened, and Kristy marched defiantly out in an emerald-green satin cocktail dress. It was cut low, revealing a wide swath of skin between her breasts, the V dipping almost to her navel. The waist was gathered in a wide belt, with a circular rhinestone buckle that would have done Liberace proud. The way the fabric was gathered around the buckle made her look like the back of a chair at a big hotel wedding. The skirt was split up the front, revealing almost as much thigh as tummy.
Jack loved it. But she sure wasn’t going out in public like that.
“Next,” he said.
“See?” she retorted, turning to flounce back into the changing room.
Next was a plain black pinstripe, very straight, buttoned up the front with a mandarin collar and a leather belt.
“You look like you’re going to a funeral,” he said.
“Something softer?”
“Something a whole lot softer.”
She turned back into the room.
While she was changing, Jack asked the clerk to bring some jewelry, purses and a few pairs of shoes. Once she found the right dress, he fully intended to accessorize it.
The next one was basic black. It was strapless, with a small lace fringe along the neckline and a skirt that draped to mid-thigh. It was sheer and frothy, and he absolutely wanted her to wear it for him later. But it wasn’t right for tonight.
“Too short,” she said.
He nodded his agreement, but after she returned to the changing room, he instructed the clerk to wrap it for them when Kristy was done.
The next time Kristy came out, he knew they’d found the right dress. It was a snug-fitting, shimmering gold sheath. Sleeveless, with a scooped neck and a tight skirt that came almost to her knees, it was topped with a three-quarter sleeve, cropped, black satin jacket.
“You’ll need your hair up,” he said. And she’d need a diamond choker, black stockings and some spike-heeled shoes.