Don't Open Till Christmas Read online

  Kissing him would definitely distract her. Right now, Noelle couldn’t afford such a distraction, not if she wanted to make it out of this room and to Sue’s side before her cousin noticed she was missing and sent someone to find her.

  “I should go,” she whispered, trying to walk past him to the door.

  Mark caught her arm. “Stay.”

  “I can’t.” The words were hard to get past her tight throat. “Someone might come looking for me.”

  “And I guess it wouldn’t do to have someone finding you here, with me, doing—” he smiled slowly, lazily, sexily “—this and that.”

  Oh, Lord, this and that. How she’d love a little of this and a lot of that.

  But Mark had nailed it—the last thing she needed was to have someone like Marnie Miller’s chirpy daughter Millie—God, how her parents must have hated her at birth to saddle her with that name—come walking through the door in time to see Noelle doing this to Mark’s that.

  “Exactly,” she said. He let her go and watched her walk to the door. With every step, she wondered if this had been fate. Maybe having their tryst interrupted was a good thing—maybe they both needed a chance to rethink this idea of having a wild weekend affair. It could very well be that they’d—she’d—made a mistake.

  And maybe you need to see if your nose is growing, girl, because you are lying to yourself if you think you don’t want to rip off the man’s clothes and dive on him.

  True. She did. But unless she wanted the Christmas Carolers to burst in to serenade them with “Have a Holly Jolly Christmas” while she had Mark Santori’s big juicy cock in her mouth, she really needed to get going.

  She was shuddering as she unlocked the door, both at the mental image and the naughty, raw words she pictured whispering to him in the hottest of moments. She’d never been so daring—not even in her own mind.

  Stepping into the hall, she reached back to grab the knob and pull the door closed behind her, but her hand, instead, grabbed a handful of Mark. A sizeable handful of Mark.

  “Oh, jeez,” she whispered on a moan as she glanced over her shoulder. Even her most innocent movements were betraying her.

  He laughed, low and long, watching her face so intently, she realized she was blushing. “What are you doing?” she asked.

  He looked down at his crotch. And her hand. “I think I’m being felt up.”

  Noelle yanked her hand away. “Sorry. That was an accident. I didn’t expect you to follow me.”

  Stepping out and pulling the door closed behind him, he managed a nonchalant shrug. “I’m coming with you. After all, if I can’t do this—” he nodded toward the closed bedroom door “—I might as well do…that.”

  5

  WHEN NOELLE WALKED into Sue’s bedroom and saw the delighted look on her cousin’s face, she almost forgave the singing townspeople for interrupting her very intimate moment with Mark. Because for the first time since she’d arrived earlier today, Sue looked absolutely joyful. She glowed the way pregnant women were supposed to glow, with outright happiness and contentment.

  Of course, Sue would; she loved Christmas. Noelle was the only Scrooge in her family. And a bunch of adults dressed in ridiculous elf costumes and jostling to outsing each other wasn’t going to change her opinion about the holiday any time soon.

  But Sue was entranced. Clapping her hands along with the junior choir members—who ranged in age from precious-in-tights four-year-old Holly Wannamaker to miserable-in-a-pointy-cap fourteen-year-old Cody Finnegan—Sue mouthed the words to “Jingle Bell Rock.” Standing beside the bed, watching with a doting yet protective eye, was Randy. Whenever one of the little ones skipped too close to the bed, he or Noelle were there to gently scoot them out of the way.

  But even as she got caught up in the chatter and the hugs and good wishes from her former friends and neighbors, Noelle’s mind was in another place. And her eyes never strayed far from Mark, who watched the goings-on with a wry grin.

  “So who’s the hunk?” Sue whispered from the side of her mouth while also smiling at Marnie Miller, who was doing a solo rendition of “Carol of the Bells.” The song didn’t work very well with her singing all the parts herself, and Noelle feared the woman was going to pass out from lack of oxygen before finishing the last ding-dong, but apparently nobody had the heart to tell their leader that.

  “He’s your tenant,” Noelle said, not meeting her cousin’s eye. Hopefully Sue would leave it at that.

  “And he’s your stud-muffin.”

  A deep throat-clearing told them they’d been overheard. “Actually, I prefer hunk. Stud-muffin sounds too baker-ish,” a male voice said.

  Sue’s face pinkened and Noelle almost laughed. Mark did have a way of moving quietly, catching people unawares. It was probably a cop thing.

  He appeared amused by her cousin’s assessment. “I’m Mark Santori,” he said. “And you have a lovely home. Thanks for letting me crash in on the celebration.”

  Sue straightened her covers and smiled up at him. “You’re most welcome, I’m glad you joined us. Have you met my cousin, Noelle?” Sue’s eyebrows wagged up and down like a cartoon character’s. “She lives in Chicago and she’s single.”

  Oh, God, how Noelle wished Marnie’s awful soprano voice would break the glass in the window and send a shard of it through her eyeball. Anything to escape the embarrassment of having her very pregnant cousin trying to pimp Noelle to a man whose underwear she’d been licking about twenty minutes ago.

  “I’m afraid I won’t be around long enough to make any serious acquaintances, so we’ll just have to remain strangers,” Mark murmured, his voice so smooth and his tone so even, Noelle had to laugh. The guy was good, his subtle words obviously meant for her and her alone.

  Sue looked confused, obviously seeing the spark between them, and probably wondering about Mark’s apparent rebuff. “Well, if you want someone to show you around town, you won’t find anyone more knowledgeable about Christmas than Noelle. Our great-great-grandfather founded it, after all.”

  He nodded with interest, glancing across the bed at Noelle. “I guess that means you just love the holiday season, hmm?”

  She smirked. “Oh, it’s the most wonderful time of the year, don’t you know.”

  “I think I’ve heard that. Though I personally prefer St. Patrick’s Day.”

  Grinning, she admitted, “Me, too. Irish coffee.”

  “Green beer.”

  “Red-nosed Irishmen instead of rosy-cheeked North Polers.”

  He shrugged. “But I think the leprechaun/elf thing is pretty evenly annoying.”

  The two of them laughed together, both caught up in their own silliness, especially since they were being serenaded by a bunch of oversized elves. Not for the first time, Noelle mentally acknowledged how much she enjoyed this man’s wit. He was so easy to talk to, so easy to get along with. And so damned sexy she wanted to leap on him.

  Looking at the other dozen or so females in the room, she acknowledged she wasn’t the only one who felt that way. Practically every other female in the place—young and single, or arthritic and marked with liver spots—was looking at him the same way. She couldn’t help stepping a little closer, staking her claim. At least for tonight. Because tonight was all she was going to have.

  Sue continued to eye them speculatively until her attention was caught by the next of the Christmas Carolers soloists. A few others came over to gush over how beautiful Sue looked pregnant, and to ask a bunch of private, intimate questions that Sue either answered or evaded as she saw fit.

  Once Mr. Stuart the banker began singing “Adeste Fideles,” positively mangling the Latin lyrics, Noelle found herself standing in a quiet corner, with Mark right beside her.

  “Is that really your old second-grade teacher?” he asked, nodding toward a white-haired old woman on the other side of the room who was glaring the fear of God right into poor, fidgety Chuckie Green.

  Noelle couldn’t suppress a sigh. “Mrs. Finkelst
ein. What did she say? Is she still telling the same old story about me pulling up my skirt to show everybody my pretty new Care Bears panties?”

  “You wear Care Bears panties?” He shook his head mournfully. “Man, now I really wish we hadn’t been interrupted.”

  Smirking, she replied, “Oh, yeah, well, you really missed out on something special.”

  His frown deepened. “Don’t I know it.”

  Mark sounded very serious now, as if he, too, had been unable to completely put the intense moments they’d shared in her room completely out of his mind. If the Carolers hadn’t shown up, they would probably right now be in the middle of something hot and crazy, and maybe even illegal in some states. Noelle’s pulse sped up a bit, just at the thought.

  “You know, my curiosity is going to kill me if we don’t get out of here soon,” he murmured, still watching the Carolers, who’d regrouped for another big chorus number.

  “Curiosity?”

  “Well, yeah.” He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, still leaning in nonchalance against the wall. “I mean, Cheer Bear had the rainbow on her tummy, and Grumpy had the rain cloud.” A tiny smile tugged at his lips. “I was really looking forward to seeing what was on Horny Bear’s.”

  Noelle couldn’t control the laughter that spilled out of her mouth. Her shoulders shook as she tried to snort the giggles away, seeing the attention they were getting from some others in the room. “You’re twisted.”

  “Think that’s why we get along so well?” he asked.

  “Probably,” she admitted. “Why do you know so much about the Care Bears?”

  “Lottie, my sister. She was addicted.”

  “Me, too. I knew I’d like her.”

  Their shared laughter seemed to have dissipated the heavy awareness that had gripped them both a few moments before and Noelle suddenly realized she felt comfortable—warm—talking to him. “Now, what did Mrs. Finkelstein say?”

  “Just that she hopes you aren’t doing anything requiring any skill with mathematics because you’re hopelessly inept.”

  Noelle resented that remark. How many seven-year-olds could do three-figure division? Mrs. Finkelstein was a Nazi; Noelle had always suspected it. “And may I ask why my elementary school teacher was discussing my ineptitude with you?”

  “She thinks I’m your boyfriend.”

  The words caused her heart to trip a little bit in her chest. “You’re kidding.”

  “Haven’t you noticed?” Stepping closer he murmured, “We’re being watched.”

  Trying to be surreptitous, Noelle glanced around at the familiar faces crowded into Sue’s spacious room. She received a lot of smiles and even more knowing winks. “Oh, God, they do think you’re my boyfriend.”

  He merely nodded.

  Panic set in, making her heart race and her breath come fast and furious out of her mouth. She couldn’t stand this—being stared at, talked about…laughed at. Not now. Not again. “Go to the other side of the room.”

  Mark responded with a droll lift of one brow that said he didn’t believe she really wanted him to leave. “Make me.”

  The man was enjoying this…enjoying making her the subject of gossip all over again, just like she had been last year during her big wedding humiliation. Then again, he didn’t know—he couldn’t know—just what this was doing to her. “I can’t stand to have everyone talking about me again, Mark. I mean it,” she whispered, wondering if he heard the note of anxiety in her voice.

  His hand on her shoulder told her he did. “What’s wrong?”

  She tried to keep a tight smile on her face, knowing by the heads bobbing together that Mark’s innocent touch had sparked another flurry of whispers across the room. “Let’s just say when I left here last year, I was the subject of a whole lot of gossip. I came back praying nobody would even know I was even in town and now they’re…they’re talking again.”

  Mark didn’t remove his hand. Instead, he squeezed her shoulder and stepped close to her, as if lending his physical support. “Noelle, if people are looking at you it’s because you’re beautiful and charming.”

  She definitely didn’t buy that one, used to everyone in Christmas considering her the serious, sarcastic, nondescript one compared to her vivacious cousin Sue.

  “And if they’re talking about you, did you ever think it’s maybe because they’re happy for you? Glad to see you, and think it’s nice to have you back?”

  No, it didn’t. This was Christmas, and Noelle knew better.

  Her whole body tensing, she stepped away from him, wrapping her arms around her own waist. “Please, Mark. I can’t do this. You don’t understand, when I left here it was because of…”

  He touched her chin, lifting her face and forcing her to meet his eyes. “Because of a man? The bad breakup you mentioned the other day?”

  Swallowing, she nodded. “I can’t stand the thought of my romantic life being fodder for the gossip mill again.”

  And finally he seemed to understand. Because with a simple, gentle brush of his fingers against her jaw, he stepped away and offered her a slight smile. “It was nice talking to you,” he said with a nod. “I appreciate the background on the town. Now I’ll let you get back to your party.”

  Without another word, he faded away, into the costumed choir, though he continued to stare gently at her from across the room. Noelle wondered if he could see the hint of regret she couldn’t quite hide. And when he was sucked into a conversation with an attractive girl who’d been a few years behind Noelle in school, she definitely felt some regret. But she made herself focus on Sue and the impromptu party, trying to avoid looking at Mark as he socialized with the townspeople.

  It wasn’t easy…He was the tallest man in the room, and the broadest. His laugh was deep and distinctive, his manner relaxed yet powerful. His jet black hair caught the glints from the twinkle lights on the tiny tree in Sue’s front window and everywhere, no matter where Noelle turned, she felt his intent stare following her.

  Charming and friendly, Mark became one of the most popular people in the room within a very short time. All that was bad enough. But when Mark squatted down to get eye-level with a precious three-year-old who looked a lot like Cindy-Lou Who, Noelle felt her throat close tight.

  Because there was no denying it: the man was wonderful. Friendly and funny, handsome and charming. The kind of man to love. Not the kind of man to just have an affair with.

  An affair, however, was all Noelle could afford right now—all her tattered emotions would allow her to risk.

  Maybe if it were a year from now she could put some of the unease and self-doubts out of her mind and risk getting emotionally involved with a man, rather than just physically. Perhaps even if it were hot and steamy July, she wouldn’t be forcibly reminded of the way the holidays always seemed to bring her only heartache. But at this time of year, there was no way to silence the whispers of dread deep inside her that reminded her of the pain of losing someone she cared about. In the very distant past…or in the recent one.

  Letting herself love someone was the equivalent of saying she was ready to be hurt again, willing to risk heartbreak one more time in her life. And Noelle was nowhere near ready to say any such thing.

  Which left her wondering exactly what she was going to do later, when she was once again alone with the intoxicating man watching her from across the room. Because as of right now, she had absolutely no idea if she had the courage to go ahead with her seductive plan or not.

  IF LUCK HAD BEEN ON HIS SIDE, Mark would have spent Saturday night making wild, erotic love with the incredible woman who’d literally had him in the palm of her hand—or on the tip of her tongue—the previous evening. But luck was a temperamental lady and she royally screwed him over. So he’d instead had a sleepless night and was now nursing a cold cup of coffee in the inn’s empty dining room.

  He should never have gone with Noelle to listen to those stupid singers. If he hadn’t gone along, she wouldn’t have
grown self-conscious about the attention they were getting. Nor would Sue, Noelle’s very pregnant cousin, have had the opportunity to introduce him to Noelle, effectively killing her “stranger” fantasy, as ridiculous as it seemed. And if she hadn’t seen him chatting with the Carolers—dressed in matching silly green pointed hats, red smocks, and striped stockings—she wouldn’t have come up with the loony idea that he was too nice to be her sexy, dangerous stranger.

  Nice. Hmm…if he’d said what he really thought to the first man he’d seen in the caroler’s getup—that the guy’s chances of getting laid had shrunk with the hat and gone to subzero with the tights—she might not have thought so. His partner Harriet would argue it, too, as would the guys in the precinct. Not to mention the scumbag criminals he’d busted over the years.

  But, deep down, Mark suspected it was at least partially true. Hell, how could he not be something of a nice guy? Being polite to women, respectful of his elders and treating others as he wanted to be treated were among the many rules he’d been brainwashed with since early childhood.

  In a big Italian family with six children, treating others as you wanted to be treated wasn’t merely a nicety to keep Mama off your back. It’d been downright necessary. Because as tempting as it might have been to take the head off his baby sister Lottie’s obnoxious Teddy Ruxpin doll and shove a handful of marbles down its gabby throat, he sure wouldn’t want her to retaliate by breaking the arms off his Optimus Prime Transformer. So he knew how to play nice when he had to.

  He’d never, though, imagined that being nice on occasion would cost him a night of great sex. He could almost hear Teddy Ruxpin laughing at him now from that great flash-in the-pan toy burial ground in the sky.

  “Up yours, Teddy,” he mumbled.

  Draining the last of his coffee, he tossed his napkin on his plate, wondering if he should just leave. Ideally, his weekend of stranger-sex with Noelle Bradenton should have required a stay through Monday but now it looked like he might not need to. Because here it was Sunday at noon, and the closest they’d come to having sex was when she’d teased him with her wicked fingers and devastating tongue the previous evening.