Don't Open Till Christmas Page 4

  Groaning, she closed her eyes and shook her head. “Please don’t talk about that anymore.”

  “How can I not talk about it?” He stepped closer, knowing he shouldn’t. They were in a public place—her workplace—but if he didn’t touch her again soon, he was going to explode of sheer tension. “After all, I’ve been dreaming about it for the past seven nights.”

  Her eyes flew back open. Mark moved even closer, until he was standing over her as she sat on the arm of the couch. His pants brushed against her skirt, just a whisper of a touch that hinted at so much more. From his vantage point above her, he could see the wildly pounding pulse point in her neck. She was sucking in small, shallow gasps of air between lips that were parted and moist.

  Hunger surged through him, heating his blood, bringing all his senses to life. He wanted to taste those lips, to share those breaths. He’d give a lot to kiss her again, wanting that kiss more than he’d wanted anything in a very long time. Except, perhaps, what would happen after he kissed her again…maybe even on that big, comfortable old couch where she was sitting.

  But the door wasn’t locked, and the house was far from empty. Plus, they barely knew each other. So he somehow managed to merely brush the back of his hand across her shoulder instead of sucking on her tongue the way he wanted to.

  “You shouldn’t talk like that,” she whispered.

  “I haven’t said anything the least bit objectionable.” Though, God knew he’d been thinking some downright salacious things. “So, tell me where you’re going to wear that little black dress.” And what goes underneath it.

  Noelle tilted her head back and met his stare. Her mouth opened as if she was about to answer his question. But a child’s laugh in the hall outside quickly reminded her of where they were. She moved down from the arm of the couch, lowering herself into the seat. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “Why not?”

  He was not prepared for her blunt answer. “Maybe because you could probably have me out of that black dress in about five minutes flat, no matter where we were?”

  Now it was Mark who sucked in a deep breath and whose pulse pounded. Not merely because he suspected she was right, but also because he didn’t think he’d ever met a woman who’d been so incredibly forthright about what was happening between them.

  Oh, something was definitely happening. Something hot and sexy, despite conversations about sticky-fingered Santas or childhood antics. They’d been dancing around the awareness—the attraction—but it was as thick and tangible as the air surging out from the heating vents on the floor beneath their feet. And it was twice as hot. “You say that like it’s a bad thing,” he murmured, knowing she could see the hunger in his eyes.

  One of her fine eyebrows curved higher. “Are you always this aggressive with a woman you’ve just met?”

  “Only if I’ve already seen her naked,” he said as he sat beside her on the couch. Not close enough to make her nervous…but close enough to smell the sultry sweetness of her perfume. Damn, she smelled good.

  “I was not naked.”

  “You were in my dreams,” he said with a helpless shrug. “Believe me, it didn’t require a whole lot of imagination.”

  Noelle was shaking her head as if she didn’t know whether to laugh at him or smack him. Or perhaps even put her hands around his neck and pull him down on top of her.

  He voted for option number three. And without giving it much thought, he leaned a little closer, fell a little deeper into the well of awareness swirling between them.

  She leaned forward, too, almost as if not even realizing it, until her soft, dark hair—the same color as the hot coffee with just a hint of cream that he so enjoyed every morning—brushed his cheek. “You really should leave, Detective Santori,” she said, her voice soft, almost shaky.

  He somehow resisted the urge to nibble his way along her creamy-smooth jaw. “Have dinner with me,” he urged, even though they both knew what he was really saying. Have an affair with me.

  She was refusing before the last words left his mouth. “I can’t do that.”

  Couldn’t do dinner? Or a sexy affair? He hoped she was on a diet—not that she needed it—and wasn’t doing the restaurant thing. Because as far as desire went, there was no doubt in his mind that Noelle was as hungry for him as he was for her.

  Figuring it was probably time to make sure there were no genuine barriers before he launched an all-out assault on her reservations, he quickly covered the basics. “Are you married?”

  She shook her head.

  “Engaged? Spoken for?”

  Another shake of the head, with amusement still making her lips quirk, as if she knew exactly what he was doing.

  “A future nun? Bought into that ‘no sex’ Tantric stuff?”

  Another negative turn of the head. “You didn’t ask me if I was a lesbian,” she said dryly.

  Mark snorted a laugh. “Honey, after last Friday, that question didn’t even enter my mind.”

  She didn’t try to deny it. There could be no denial—she’d been a wanton, physical creature of pure sensation and desire in his arms last week and they both knew it.

  So, she wasn’t married or attached—thank God. And she sure as hell wasn’t frigid. Which left nervous…not liking men too much…vulnerable. “A breakup within the past year?” he guessed.

  Her quick gasp told him he’d hit pay dirt.

  Ahh, here was territory he understood. A beautiful woman who kissed like a temptress and looked like pure sin wasn’t going to take just any offer than came her way after a bad romantic breakup. She was unsure, tentative, just as anybody would be. Just as he’d been the one time he’d handed his heart over to someone, only to have it put through a meat grinder and handed back to him like a hamburger patty. “Okay, so how about a back-in-the-dating-game dinner?” he asked, trying to tease her into accepting.

  She nibbled her bottom lip. “I wish I could…”

  “But?”

  Noelle shifted on the couch, turning sideways to face him, one leg curled under the other. With a look of pure resolve, she explained. “But I can’t. You showed up here and introduced yourself and ruined everything you started last Friday in that dressing room.” Her frown was accusatory.

  “I what?”

  She continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “Now I know who you are, what you do and where you live.”

  He was so not following this conversation. “Okay…?”

  “So,” she said, “you just won’t do.”

  Oh, he could do a lot. He could definitely do a lot, particularly because the more she threw up these adorably cute protestations, the tighter his pants grew, and the more he wanted to push her back on this couch and slide his hands up his skirt. He’d need about five minutes to give her a taste of what he could do. Then he’d need about five hours to finish doing it.

  “Because,” she added, though he’d almost lost track of the conversation, “I’m just not in the market for someone like you. After what happened between us, I’ve realized that I’m in the market for one thing, and one thing only.”

  He could hardly wait to hear what.

  Crossing her arms, she explained. “All I want is some nameless, anonymous sex with a stranger I’ll never see again.”

  NOELLE SPENT the rest of the day Friday wondering what demon had taken over her mouth and made her spit out the bald, complete truth to Detective Mark Santori. She’d come right out and told the man she wanted a one-night stand—hot sex with a stranger.

  What on earth the man must have thought of her, she had absolutely no idea. He’d probably either pegged her as a nutcase or a skank, and she honestly wasn’t sure which was worse.

  To give him credit, though, his reaction had been pretty cute. He hadn’t been all shocked or judgmental. He’d simply grinned and offered to leave the city, change his name and arrange to accidentally bump into her at her earliest convenience.

  Darn, the man was too charming. Too…everything.<
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  That sexy self-confidence might very well have broken through her protective wall, but Casey had come back into the office with a typical minor emergency. Noelle had used the distraction to insist she had to get back to work. Her last glimpse of Mark Santori had been, once again, his gorgeous backside as he’d walked away down the sidewalk toward his car.

  Oh, how she wanted to see that man walking toward her one of these days. Naked. Or…not. Because she didn’t know how she could face him after what she’d admitted.

  “You make sure you button up tight,” Alice said as Noelle gathered her things to leave at the end of the day. Alice wasn’t reaching for her coat because she was living here tonight. All the staff—Noelle, Alice, Casey and a fourth counselor, Eileen, who was on vacation this week—took turns rooming at the shelter. “It’s like mid-February out there. At this rate, we won’t have a white Christmas, we’re going to have an ice Christmas.”

  Noelle wanted a green one, so she didn’t comment.

  “Noelle, I…I just want you to know, I…”

  Seeing the tightness around her mouth and the way Alice kept her hands clasped in front of her, Noelle knew the older woman was still blaming herself for this morning’s robbery. “It wasn’t your fault,” Noelle said firmly, not wanting the woman tearing herself up over it any more. “You have a good heart and a kind soul. Who the heck would think Santa Claus would steal money from kids?”

  Alice’s eyes grew bright and misty. “I’m going to go to the bank Monday and see if I can take out a signature loan.”

  Noelle’s heart twisted. Her co-worker was a middle-aged divorcée whose entire world revolved around the children she interacted with here at work. She lived in a small apartment, had no family, no other source of income, and would give her last dime to anyone in need. That the thief could have caused such a nice lady so much pain was another reason Noelle wanted to string him up by his long white beard.

  Reaching out, she gave Alice a quick hug. “Forget it. That’s not necessary. We’re going to get through this.”

  How, she wasn’t entirely sure. But she was definitely thinking about it. Thinking about it so much as she walked outside into the frigid twilight air that she didn’t see anyone standing in front of her until she was face-first with a big, broad chest. Fear and surprise made her gasp a startled breath. But even as a moment of panic flashed through her brain, his familiar, warm, spicy scent calmed her instantly.

  “You might want to keep your eyes open when you walk,” a low voice said, sounding amused.

  Yes, it was him. Mark. And he’d obviously been waiting for her. “Did you forget something earlier?” she asked, tugging her wool coat tighter around her body for protection against the strong wind whipping down the street.

  “Yeah,” he murmured.

  He spoke softly, and she felt the warmth of his breath on her cheek. When he didn’t continue, she cleared her throat and asked, “What did you forget?”

  A heady silence lengthened between them. Noelle peered intently up at his face, lit by the last remnants of sunlight and the flicker of lampposts beginning to come on as dusk settled on the street. Mark was watching her closely, as if unsure what to say.

  In the end, he didn’t say anything. He simply bent toward her, closer, until their lips met and melted together. Noelle moaned a little, even as she wondered how on earth she was letting this happen here, now. With him.

  Mark didn’t try to take her into his arms, didn’t touch her, didn’t cup her face with his hand or tangle his fingers in her hair as she suddenly longed for him to do. No. He simply kissed her sweetly, hungrily, letting his lips and tongue say everything that needed to be said…without using any words whatsoever.

  She tilted her head, meeting every gentle stroke of his tongue with one of her own, tasting the warmth of his mouth and the minty flavor of his breath. Soon, she started to quiver and shake, but it wasn’t from the cold. She wasn’t cold at all…she was suddenly on fire. Burning up, dying for his touch, wanting to feel his hard body against hers without the impediment of their thick coats.

  But he never drew her tightly against him. In fact, he never touched her at all, except with that incredible mouth.

  Finally, when he’d finished speaking to her in the most elemental way possible, he slowly ended the kiss and drew away from her. Noelle almost cried at the loss of his warmth, his closeness. It had been a kiss…just a kiss…but she felt as if she’d just been made love to in full view of her co-workers and everyone on the block.

  Funny. She really couldn’t bring herself to care.

  “What was that?” she managed to whisper when she could think again.

  She could see by the puffs of air warmed by his breath that he was breathing deeply, slowly, much too calmly considering she was nearly out of her mind with surprise. Wonder. Desire.

  Finally, he replied. “That was a reminder,” he told her, his voice low and sultry. As sultry as the early evening shadows lengthening over the yard, creating mysterious hidden pockets of darkness.

  She cleared her throat. “A reminder of what?”

  “Of what got you thinking of this whole stupid affair-with-a-stranger thing.”

  Noelle couldn’t say a word. Because it was as if he’d read her mind, looked right into her and seen the truth. Somehow, he knew that the reason she’d decided to go for it with a complete stranger was because of the kiss this particular stranger had given her in a dressing room last Friday. She’d alluded to it earlier, in her office, and he’d obviously put the pieces together and realized the truth: that he’d inspired her insanely wicked plan.

  “So before you go off and find some nameless guy to give you a few hours to forget everything it is you’re trying to escape,” he added, “why don’t you think about what made you want it so much in the first place?”

  Then, without another word, he turned around and walked away, disappearing into the shadows of the evening until all that remained was the click of his shoes against the sidewalk. And soon they, too, were gone.

  3

  NOELLE HADN’T PLANNED on visiting Christmas to see her cousin and her new baby until mid-January, after the December insanity was over with. The town was bad enough the other eleven months out of the year, but in the weeks leading up to its namesake holiday, Christmas grew utterly unbearable. Besides, if she ran into Jeremy—her former fiancé—and his new wife, she might just throw up.

  Still, here she was, in her car, about ten miles outside the town where she’d been raised. That was about fifty miles closer than she wanted to be. She’d already spied a dozen cutesy billboards that invited every passerby to stop in for some mulled cider and sugar cookies in front of a roaring, chestnut-popping fire. Gag.

  “You’re sure this isn’t too big an imposition?” her cousin Sue asked, her voice sounding a bit hollow on Noelle’s cell phone. But even with the bad reception, she could hear Sue’s upset tone. Her cousin felt horrible at having to ask for Noelle’s help, just as Sue’s husband, Randy, had predicted she would when he’d called the previous night.

  But family was family, and Sue was as close to Noelle as a sister. So she hadn’t even hesitated in answering Randy’s call for help. Besides, the call from Sue’s husband had come at a fortuitous time. The idea of going home to Christmas for a few days had certainly distracted her from the hot cop who’d nearly had her sticking to the couch in her office just twenty-four hours ago. The one who’d also left her standing in a boneless, brainless puddle of confused woman on the sidewalk last evening.

  “Noelle?”

  “It’s okay, Susie,” Noelle replied into her phone, wondering why she couldn’t stop thinking of the things Mark had said. Or the way he’d kissed her. Both times. Sexy, hot, playful and erotic in the dressing room. Moody, intense and sultry in front of the shelter last night.

  She couldn’t help wondering what kiss number three might entail.

  “I hate this. I hate feeling so helpless,” Sue said.

  He
r poor, frantic cousin had called three times since Noelle had left Chicago this morning to drive to Christmas. As if Noelle would begrudge her cousin—and closest friend—a few days help when Sue was having complications with her pregnancy. Helping out with the inn was the least Noelle could do.

  “I promise,” Sue added, “it should only be for a day or two until one of our moms can come up from Arizona.”

  “Don’t sweat it. I can stay till Monday or Tuesday at least. Hopefully one of them will be able to get a flight by then.”

  “I think you mean one of them will be able to tear herself away from the studly seventy-year-olds hanging out by the shuffleboard court,” Sue said, a hint of laughter in her voice.

  Noelle laughed as well, picturing their mothers, who were loving their new retiree lifestyle at a planned community in hot and sunny Arizona. “Well, even if they can’t, I can stay a few days into next week. I have some vacation time to burn up before the end of the year anyway.”

  That vacation time was supposed to have been used for her trip to St. Lucia, but she suspected more than ever that she wasn’t going to need it. Because after the unsettlingly attractive Detective Santori had left her office yesterday, Noelle had spent the rest of the day scrambling for emergency donations—or promises of them—and had still fallen well short of what they needed for even the most basic of Christmases for the kids.

  The community had been great, but it wasn’t exactly an affluent one. Besides, there was only so much anyone could give during this time of year. The county Social Services Department had a budget tighter than Noelle’s size eight jeans. And the mayor’s office hadn’t even returned her phone calls.

  Thankfully, she might have the chance to ask the man in person, at next weekend’s mayoral Christmas ball—the event for which she needed a little black dress. For the first time, she was glad she’d scored the ticket. She hadn’t been looking forward to representing Social Services and mingling with the politicos and millionaires who attended the mayor’s functions. Now, however, some personal contact with those millionaires could come in very handy.