Don't Open Till Christmas Page 9

  “My, oh my,” he whispered, sighing at the memory of it.

  It seemed impossible that his seductive temptress had tensed up so much. In spite of her “too nice” excuses, he suspected her coolness was also caused by her memories of the bastard had hurt her so badly. If she’d left town because of the breakup, the relationship had to have been a serious one.

  Mark would very much have liked to get hold of the man, not only for hurting Noelle, but also for making her skittish and nervous about letting anyone get close to her. He had no doubt that was the reason Noelle had come up with her sex-only idea, when what Mark really wanted to do was just spend time with her, talking, seeing her laugh. Determining if something special really was developing between them, as he suspected.

  And having sex.

  But, uh-uh. She’d shut the door in his face…literally.

  “Shoulda sat your ass on the bed and never gone with her,” he muttered.

  Funny, though, unlike Noelle’s reaction to their time with the boisterous singers of Christmas, Mark had actually enjoyed the evening, other than the no-sex ending. Yeah, the carolers were weird, but they also had a down-home friendliness. Despite what Noelle had imagined, she’d seemed to be a favorite in the room. She’d been sweetly animated, fussing over one elderly lady who was having trouble standing up and looked in danger of tipping over in her curly-toed shoes.

  It hadn’t been her old teacher. Judging by the looks Noelle had sent in that old bag’s direction, the pinch-faced woman could have fallen face-first into a turkey’s ass and Noelle wouldn’t have tried to stop it.

  But other than that, she’d been comfortable with everyone in the place until, noticing the fatigue on her cousin’s face, she’d politely shooed everyone out.

  Seeing Noelle in a natural, nonsexual setting had made Mark want her even more. Any doubts he’d had before she’d arrived in his room Saturday evening had disintegrated. He wanted her—mind and body—as he’d never wanted anyone.

  For her part, the evening had had the opposite effect. He’d almost laughed in her face when she’d said he was too nice and wonderful to go to bed with. But she’d disappeared back into her cousin’s room before he could argue it.

  All because he’d been a good guy.

  If only she’d known that throughout the damned chatty hour with the carolers he’d been picturing her naked and open to him in his bed, she might have reacted differently.

  Noelle’s abrupt change of mind should have sent up red flags, should have had him in his car heading back to Chicago by midnight. It hadn’t. Because, as strange as it seemed, for the first time in four years, he began to think he could open up to a woman, let himself trust someone. Definitely let himself want someone. He wasn’t ready to give up Noelle just yet.

  Mark hadn’t been sure he would ever be willing to give a woman the benefit of the doubt again. After his first experience with so-called “true love,” he’d been as suspicious about women as he was about everyday perps. Renée, his former girlfriend, had loved him, all right…until he’d refused to help her cover up the fact that she’d been stealing money from her employer.

  Having the wool pulled away from his eyes about the woman he’d planned to marry was bad. Though disturbed that she’d done something so intrinsically wrong, he’d forced himself to think she’d just made a mistake. He’d offered to help her, to make sure she got a good lawyer and was treated fairly.

  Mark would never have bailed on her—at least not while she was still embroiled in legal troubles. As for afterward? Well, who knew? Even then he’d been wondering whether he wanted to have children with a woman whose moral code was so radically different from his own. But he hadn’t reached that point yet and had offered to do whatever he could for her. With the exception of one thing: he would not lie.

  Lying, as it turned out, was the only thing Renée had wanted him to do. The minute she’d found out he wouldn’t, she’d accused Mark of having no heart, of being incapable of love. Then she’d gone a step further, hinting to the cops investigating her case—some of them his colleagues—that he’d been an accomplice.

  She’d cost him an internal affairs investigation less than one year after he’d made detective. So much for true love. Thankfully, he’d been completely cleared, though he’d never forgotten the blot on his record.

  Renée, who’d made a reparations deal to avoid jail time before leaving town, had also cost Mark his ability to love and trust a woman again. So why in the name of God was he already going so crazy over Noelle Bradenton, who’d made it perfectly clear the night before that she had no intention of following through on the sultry promises she’d made in his bedroom?

  The possibility that she had led him on—that she’d been deceiving him—should have made him pack his bags already. But it hadn’t. Because he deeply suspected the only person Noelle was deceiving was herself. She wanted him just as much as he wanted her. And he wasn’t going to leave town until he at least got her to admit that much.

  “Would you like some more coffee?” a soft voice said over his left shoulder.

  He immediately recognized her voice, not to mention her delicately spicy cologne. “Yeah, gimme some,” he growled.

  She stepped closer, so he could see her beside him, and her eyes widened. “Excuse me?”

  “Was that impolite enough?” he asked. “I mean, I’m not allowed to be a nice guy, right?”

  She looked around the room to ensure they weren’t being overheard. Impossible, since the place was completely empty. “I didn’t mean it like that,” she said, sounding weary. Noelle had smudges of shadow beneath her eyes, and her shoulders were a bit slumped, as if she hadn’t slept well the night before.

  Good. Hopefully her night had been at least as fitful as his. Though, lucky her, she hadn’t had to contend with a hard-on that had made it impossible for him to sleep on his stomach. “What did you mean?”

  She put the coffee pot down and lowered herself into the chair opposite him, perching her pretty, curvy butt on its edge. “I mean, well, it just seemed strange to be in that big family situation right after…right before…”

  “Better than during,” he pointed out, almost laughing as her pale cheeks pinkened.

  She sighed heavily. “I couldn’t pretend you were some dangerous stranger who kissed me until I couldn’t even breathe in a Bloomingdale’s dressing room after I saw you stand there for ten minutes politely listening to Frank Jones drone on about his hand-carved duck collection.”

  His lips twitched. “So where did I go wrong…dangerous strangers don’t like ducks? Or nice guys don’t kiss beautiful, half-naked strangers in dressing rooms, then dream for days about the way she looked in her lacy black panties?” He silently dared her to answer truthfully…to admit it was possible for him to be both.

  Noelle’s breaths deepened. From across the table, Mark could see the way her tight pink sweater highlighted her body’s instinctive reaction to the memory he’d just put in her head. Very obviously. Mouthwateringly so. God, he couldn’t wait to taste her, to suck one of her tight nipples into his mouth and stroke the curves of her perfect breasts. He shifted in his seat as his jeans tightened across his lap.

  Mark leaned across the table. “Because it seems to me that I kinda broke at least one of those rules already.”

  “You like ducks?” Her voice was thready and weak.

  “I don’t give a rat’s ass about ducks. I just know to be respectful of my elders.” Reaching out to finger a lock of her silky hair, he brushed it back behind her ear. “I definitely am not a nice enough guy to give up the chance to kiss a sexy, half-naked stranger when she’s looking at me, practically begging to be tasted.”

  “Oh, my,” she whispered, her voice quivery.

  Mark couldn’t take it anymore, couldn’t sit there and look at the juicy moistness of her lips without experiencing them again. So leaning even closer, he wrapped his fingers tighter in her hair and tugged her forward until their faces came together o
ver his steamy coffee cup.

  Then he kissed her.

  Forcing her to part her lips for him, he silently demanded that Noelle let him explore the recesses of her mouth, enjoy the softness of her tongue and the sharp edges of her teeth. With a soft moan, she gave up any pretense and hungrily kissed him back.

  The kiss was wet and deep, hot and arousing. She satisfied him as the food had not. But even as he sated his hunger to taste her, he knew his other hunger—to have her, to touch her, to take her—was only going to grow.

  When their mouths finally parted, Mark stared into her dark eyes, now wide and snapping with fire. “Enough of these games. You know what you want. And so do I.” Leaning close again, so his lips brushed her cheek, he urged, “Come to bed with me, Noelle.”

  She sucked in a quick breath.

  “I mean it. Now. Let’s go before I pull you across this table and rip your clothes off.”

  Excitement made her pulse pound faster in her neck. “The dishes…”

  “Fuck the dishes.”

  Noelle drew her hand to her throat, her breaths beginning to sound choppy. Mark suddenly realized this was exactly what she’d been wanting. She wanted to be overwhelmed and taken, not charmed and wooed.

  Noelle wanted it passionate and fierce, hungry and maybe even a little bit coarse. Nice-guy stuff could come later…with sweet, slow, languorous lovemaking—the kind he so enjoyed. But for right now, she didn’t want it sweet—she wanted it wild. And he was more than willing to let her have it her way…as long as he got to have her.

  Pressing his advantage, he lowered his voice, letting her hear his throaty need. “Do you know what it did to me, looking down at you yesterday?” He took things a step further, dropping all pretense at seduction and letting her know exactly what he was thinking, in the most carnal way possible. “I thought I was gonna die when your pretty pink tongue flicked out of your mouth and tasted my cock.”

  “Oooh,” she moaned, shifting a little bit in her chair. He’d lay money that she was drenched, and he could hardly wait to find out.

  “Man, if I’d known it was going to kill my chances with you, I’d never have gone with you to your cousin’s room last night.” He laughed softly. “And do you want to know the truth about why I went?”

  She said nothing, waiting expectantly, her excitement palpable.

  “I came with you to hear those singers just so I could be near you. I wanted to watch you, maybe get close enough to smell that sweet musky scent of yours, knowing I’d put it there. That you were dripping with desire for me.”

  “Oh, my God,” she said on a moan. Her mouth was parted, her breaths coming in short gasps.

  “I was across the room watching you being friendly and sociable, so sweet and neighborly.” He licked his lips. “And all the while I was picturing you flat on your back, your legs apart so I could see how glistening wet I’d made you. I was picturing you touching yourself, inviting me to watch while you showed me what you like.”

  She shuddered and moaned. Finally, in a shaky voice she admitted, “I want you so much.”

  “Right back at you.”

  “Your room. My room…our room,” she said, her words choppy.

  “Yes.”

  He stood and thrust his chair back, then reached for her hand, tugging her to her feet.

  It was no surprise to him that Noelle was ready to pick up where they’d left off yesterday evening. Because she’d once again allowed fantasy to override common sense. Exactly as she needed to do, if his suspicion that she’d been alone for quite a long time was true.

  He briefly thought again about the fool who’d let her get away—the man who’d hurt her enough to freeze her off men completely. A deep, selfish part of him had to admit to a sense of gratitude. Because Noelle was his now.

  She wanted a stranger. He’d be a stranger. She wanted wild, wicked sex, wanted to fulfill her fantasies. He’d do that for her, too.

  She thought she could explore her every deepest, dark desire with someone she barely knew. All because she believed there would be no awkward morning after. No embarrassment, no repercussions. And he was ready to give her everything she needed.

  Except one little thing.

  Disappearing the morning after? Well…that, he feared, was going to be impossible. She might not know it yet, but Mark was not about to let Noelle whirl back out of his life after only one weekend.

  Especially if the rest of the weekend turned out to be as amazing as he suspected it was going to be.

  6

  AS NOELLE STUMBLED to keep up with Mark in the race to his room—to her bed—she gave thanks that Randy had told her he was going to take a nap with Sue this afternoon. He’d looked so tired this morning, she’d told him she’d oversee the cook and the part-time maids as they cleaned up after breakfast and the check-outs. They were all gone now. Mark was the only guest left, and she planned to take care of him herself. Definitely.

  “Is this place as empty as it seems?” Mark muttered as they strode, hand in hand, down the side hall toward the private rooms of the inn, where he’d been the only guest housed.

  “Yes. Just us, Sue and Randy until at least four.”

  “Lucky your cousin’s room is on the opposite corner of the house,” he muttered.

  She knew exactly what he meant. Sue and Randy’s room was separated from hers by the kitchen, pantry, and private family room. There were lots of walls between them. Walls that would hopefully help block out any, um…noise.

  Oh, how she wanted to make some noise.

  “Stop,” he muttered, halting mid-stride. She didn’t know why until he pushed her back against the wall and crowded against her. “I can’t wait to kiss you again.”

  And he did, trapping her there, stepping close so one of his legs slid between hers. Noelle whimpered as his mouth met hers in a frenzied kiss. Wrapping her fingers in his thick hair, she rose up on tiptoe, to line things up better. He shuddered in response as she rubbed wantonly against his erection.

  Mark ended the kiss abruptly, pulling away from her. Leading her the few steps to her room, he pulled her inside it and kicked the door shut behind them. His eyes smoldering, he reached for the bottom of his long-sleeved sweatshirt. Saying absolutely nothing, he tugged it off and tossed it away.

  Noelle’s mouth went dry and her heart hammered like a piston. She’d always thought she preferred a leaner, elegantly built man—strong, with a graceful runner’s physique.

  Now she knew better.

  Because Mark’s thick, powerful chest and shoulders made every hormone in her body wake up and dance. He was broad and big, obviously a fan of pounding metal at the gym.

  Licking her lips, Noelle watched as Mark stepped closer, his lids heavy and his gaze expectant. Glancing at his jeans, she murmured, “Are you going to finish?”

  He shook his head. “I can’t go any further. I need to keep something on. Otherwise I’m going to rush this and take you right here in the middle of the floor. And there’s too much I want to do to you first.”

  Noelle’s legs literally gave out. She dropped to the edge of the bed, wide-eyed and open-mouthed as Mark came closer, almost stalking her. The excitement roaring through her blood made it hard to think, hard to plan, hard to focus. She was charged up with instinct and hunger, wanting nothing more than to lie back and let him do things to her.

  “Take off your clothes, Noelle.” It wasn’t a request.

  She didn’t even consider refusing. Kicking her shoes off, she unfastened her slacks, remaining seated on the bed. Mark watched from a foot away, the tightening of his jaw the only reaction as she pushed her khakis down and shimmied them past her hips and bottom. Within a moment, she was clad only in her pink sweater and a skimpy pair of pink panties—definitely no white cotton when Mark Santori was in the vicinity.

  “Okay, your top, my bottoms, between the two of us, we’re practically naked,” she said nervously.

  He stared at her bare legs. “Not nearly naked enough.�
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  Stripping in front of a man required a level of trust that Noelle hadn’t believed herself capable of giving anymore. Somehow, though, the appreciation—the hunger—in Mark’s eyes gave her courage. She rose to her knees on the bed, licking her lips, watching him watch her.

  Reaching for the edge of her soft sweater, she slowly lifted it, letting it scrape delicately against her tummy and her midriff. She heard his quick intake of breath as the edge of her lacy pink bra was revealed. That indication of his deep want gave her the confidence to tug the sweater over her head, carefully disentangling her long hair along the way. A second later the top was on the floor with the rest of her clothes.

  She knelt on the bed, wearing just the lacy pink bra and panties she’d donned out of wicked instinct this morning. Mark stared at her, his eyes glittering, his mouth open. The way his massive chest moved in and out told her he was breathing slowly, as if trying to control an internal battle, seeking restraint.

  She didn’t want him restrained.

  So without another word, she reached for the center clasp of the bra and flicked it open with her thumb. Dipping one shoulder, she allowed the strap to fall, baring one of her breasts. The chill in the room wasn’t at all responsible for the tightness of her nipple, which puckered even tighter in anticipation of what was to come.

  A quick glance at Mark confirmed his strong reaction. He couldn’t take his eyes off her, not for an instant looking disappointed that she wasn’t particularly buxom. “You’re perfect,” he growled, making her believe it.

  A dip to the other side and the bra fell away. His hiss was the only sound in the room as he continued to look his fill.

  Noelle’s long, dark hair was hanging forward over one shoulder, curtaining her breast, and it slid across her skin as she shifted on the bed. The touch was surprisingly pleasurable. Evocative. So she moved again. “Mmm,” she murmured, enjoying the sensation. She’d never imagined the eroticism of her own hair brushing against her sensitive skin.