Читать книгу Her Christmas Temptation: The Billionaire Who Bought Christmas / What She Really Wants for Christmas / Baby, It's Cold Outside - Debbi Rawlins - Страница 10

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.

“You like it?” she asked, glancing down at herself.

“It’s the one.”

She stared at him in obvious surprise. “But, I’m—”

“It’s the one,” he repeated.

Just then the sales clerk arrived with the jewelry. He picked up a diamond-and-yellow-gold necklace and earring set and walked over to her.

She watched him closely, looking both worried and excited.

“Try it with these.” He unfastened the clip and motioned for her to turn around.

Her hand went to her throat, fingering the rich jewels. “Are they real?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Jack—”

“I said, don’t worry about it.” He managed to get the delicate clasp fastened.

She turned, and her cheeks were delightfully rosy. “I can’t let you—”

“Put these on.” He handed her the earrings.

Biting down on her lip, she slipped them onto her ears.

The sales clerk appeared. “Pumps or open toes?” she asked Kristy, holding up two pairs of shoes.

Kristy glanced at Jack.

He pointed to the pumps, and the sales clerk produced a pair of sheer black stockings to go with them.

He backed up to sit down on the chair again. “So now let’s see the whole thing.”

Kristy took a deep breath, but she went back into the change room without complaint.

“We’re at the Bellagio,” Jack said to the sales clerk. “Could you see if their salon will have time to do her hair tonight?”

“Certainly,” the sales clerk answered. “Anything else?”

Jack glanced around. “The black dress. A negligee—something elegant, soft, with some lace. And maybe an evening purse?”

The woman smiled. “Right away.”

WHILE KRISTY had her hair done, Jack bought himself a requisite suit at one of the hotel shops. Then he sat through an exquisitely torturous evening, hearing her laugh, watching her smile and seeing her move beneath that shimmery gold dress.

At the end of it all, he handed her the package with the negligee and all but ran into his own room. He didn’t know what it was, but something inside told him to keep his hands off for tonight. He used every ounce of his willpower to stay in his own bedroom instead of begging her to make love with him.

But then Sunday dawned, and she was wearing jeans, and it was much safer around her in the daylight. They joked their way through a tour of the Hoover Dam, then had a late lunch on the deck of a Lake Mead marina and took a sunset boat tour. By late evening, they were just off the Strip, walking hand in hand, absorbing the energy of tourists and partiers.

Suddenly Kristy stopped dead, tugging on Jack’s hand. “Oh, my God.”

He quickly scanned the crowds around them, looking for trouble. “What?”

“Over there. A gypsy fortune-teller.”

Jack shook his head, and reflexively backed away from the sign where she was pointing. “Oh, no.”

“Oh, yes.” She pulled hard on his hand, dragging him toward the gaudy, flashing storefront. “We need an update on your golf course. And I’ve never done this before.”

“And you don’t need to do it now.” Three was definitely a crowd. He didn’t need any distractions tonight. He was trying to think of a quiet spot back in the hotel, rehearsing over and over in his brain how he’d propose.

Not that he expected her to say no. Well, he supposed she could say no, since she already had Cleveland’s offer on the table. And wouldn’t that suck for Jack’s ego?

He shook that thought right out of his head. All things being equal, Kristy should prefer him over his grandfather. After all, she seemed to like hanging out with him, and she got all his jokes.

Still, he was unaccountably nervous at the thought of popping the question.

Luminitsa the Gypsy—Your Future Revealed, proclaimed the glass door.

“Kristy,” Jack protested, but he couldn’t bring himself to physically stop her.

Bells jingled as she pushed opened the door.

He blinked to adjust to the low light.

The room had an orange glow, candles flickered on most horizontal surfaces, and the walls were covered with tapestries, bright-colored scarves and Celtic drawings. A woman with huge earrings, eyelashes a mile long and a silk kerchief wrapped around her head, emerged from behind a beaded curtain.

“Come in. Come in.” She motioned with wrinkled, ring-bedecked hands to a small, round table.

Kristy eagerly slipped into one of the folding chairs, while Jack hoped humoring her in this wouldn’t take too long.

He glanced at the walls until he saw the gypsy’s price list. Then he handed the woman a fifty for the shortest reading she offered.

She waved her silver rings at him. “You, too. Sit, please.”

Jack clunked into the other chair with a sigh.

“You are a skeptic,” she said, arching one brightly painted eyelid.

“You could say that,” he agreed.

Kristy nudged him with an elbow. “Ignore him,” she said to the woman.

Luminitsa nodded, jangling her hoop earrings with the motion.

She held out her hands, dramatically waving them over the crystal ball positioned in the middle of the table. A spotlight shone on it from above. As she moved her hands in a series of sweeping motions, the spotlight became brighter, making the ball glow.

“I see water,” said Luminitsa. “Maybe a beach. It could be the ocean.”

“We’re going to California,” said Kristy.

Jack shot her a censorious look. The least she could do was make it slightly harder for the con artist.

The woman shook her head. “No.”

“We’re not?”

“Not today.”

“Tomorrow,” said Kristy.

“Maybe,” said the woman. She eyed Jack, then Kristy, then turned her attention to the ball.

The spotlight had gradually turned yellow, then orange, making the ball seem to have a life of its own.

The gypsy suddenly sat back. “There was a plane crash.”

Kristy shot Jack a look of astonishment.

He remained unimpressed. Everybody knew something about a plane crash somewhere.

“No. Not a crash,” said the woman. “But something …”

Kristy opened her mouth, but Jack grabbed her knee and squeezed.

She turned to give him an impish grin.

“What about the future?” he asked. “Kristy’s future.” The sooner they got to that, the sooner this would be over.

Luminitsa screwed up her wrinkled face, peering intently into the ball that was now bright red.

She jumped up. “Oh.”

“What?” asked Kristy.

Luminitsa glanced from one to the other, a sly smile forming on her face. “Congratulations.”

Jack and Kristy’s gazes met.

Kristy mouthed the word twins, and Jack rolled his eyes.

He turned back to Luminitsa. “Congratulations on what?”

“On your wedding,” she said.

Jack’s entire body went still. Was there something in his eyes? Something about his posture?

“Wedding?” asked Kristy.

“Today’s your wedding day.”

“Which one of us?” asked Kristy.

“Both.” She waggled her wrinkled finger back and forth between them.

Kristy’s mouth dropped open. “To each other?”

Luminitsa nodded.

Jack grabbed Kristy by the hand. “That’s it,” he announced decisively, tugging her out of her chair and turning her to the exit.

The bells jangled again as they left.

“That was weird,” said Kristy.

“We’re in Vegas,” he responded. “How many just-been-married or about-to-be-married couples do you suppose she sees every day?”

“I guess,” said Kristy. “But that was weird.”

For Jack, it wasn’t so much weird as it was damned annoying. Luminitsa had just thrown a wrench in his carefully laid plans.

KRISTY SWAYED to the music of Yellow Silk, the jazz band playing in the Windward Lounge, as she rested her head against Jack’s broad chest. She was trying to pretend that she didn’t care that these were their last few hours together. Simon had promised the plane would be ready by ten, and they’d be in L.A. an hour after that. She was wearing the lacy black party dress Jack had secretly purchased at Addias Comte, along with the diamond necklace and earring set, and she couldn’t help feeling like Cinderella.

Too bad the clock was about to strike midnight.

She knew she should be happy. Tomorrow morning she’d meet with Cleveland and the Sierra Sanchez buying team, and career-wise, she might just live happily ever after. Because if everything went her way, her life would turn on a dime. What she had dreamed of for years was suddenly within her grasp.

But melancholy overtook the joy in her heart. This was the end of such a beautiful fantasy.

The tempo slowed, and Jack gathered her close. She could feel the beat of his heart thudding rhythmically against her chest. His scent had become familiar. At some point, she’d started associating it with peace and safety, and she certainly felt that way now.

The fabric of the lacy black dress whispered against her legs. It clung to her breasts, nipped in at her waist, then flowed gently to midthigh. A Jacynthe Norman, from the winter collection in Paris, she knew it had to have cost Jack a fortune.

She’d have to leave it with him, along with the diamonds.

She wondered briefly if she’d ever see him again. If she was a supplier to the Osland Corporation, maybe they’d have a chance—

Then she stopped that thought in its tracks.

They’d spent a stolen weekend together. It was never going to be anything more than that. Their real lives were about as far apart as two people could get. He lived with the ultrarich in L.A. She lived with the struggling class in New York. Even if she did make a sale to Sierra Sanchez, they’d hardly be moving in the same social circles.

“You’re so quiet,” he murmured into her ear, his breath tickling her skin in a way that made her long for his lips to brush up against her. She itched for it. She ached for it.

“Just thinking,” she said, splaying her hand over the taut muscles of his back.

“About?”

She tipped her head to look up at him. “Tomorrow.”

He paused. “Really? I’m thinking about tonight.”

“You worried about the plane?”

He shook his head, his eyes turning the color of thick smoke, as his hand slid up her ribcage, brushing purposefully against the side of her breast. “I’m not thinking quite that far in the future.”

Her heart thudded in response to his caress. Her skin prickled with anticipation. And her body convulsed with longing.

She swallowed, hardly able to form the words. “We still have the suite.”

He stared at her, but didn’t say a word. Then his arm tightened firmly around her waist, and he turned them both toward the nightclub door.

Outside, the air was sultry warm, thunderclouds had gathered above the skyscrapers, holding the daytime heat. Their forked lightning strikes sparked like lasers in the haze, faint thunder echoing after. Halfway down the block, the first raindrops splattered on the warm concrete, and Kristy and Jack joined the other tourists who scattered for shelter.

Damp and laughing, they made it to the Bellagio lobby.

Jack turned to look at her, taking in the rain-spattered dress, smoothing her damp hair back from her face. “You are so beautiful.”

Kristy inhaled. “So are you.”

He glanced at his watch. “We’ve only got a couple of hours.” Then he looked into her eyes again, voice bedroom-husky. “I can’t believe we put this off so long.”

“What were we thinking?”

He took her hand and started across the lobby. “I don’t know.”

But instead of heading for the main elevator block which provided the more direct line to their room, he took a circuitous route past the shops. She wondered if they needed something from a store. Condoms, maybe? It wasn’t the height of romance, but she supposed practical was practical.

But they carried on past the Essentials store, around the courtyard pool area.

“Did you rent us a cabana?” she asked. The suite was fine. The suite was wonderful. And, really, the clock was ticking.

Jack shook his head. He slowed, turning to look at her as they passed the grand balcony. “I don’t want this to end.”

“The walk to our room?”

His mouth curved in an ironic grin. He squeezed her hand while shaking his head. “You and me.”

She peered at his expression. “I don’t understand.”

He nodded to a spot in front of them, and she followed his gaze. The East Chapel.

“Marry me, Kristy.”

She stopped dead. “Huh?”

He held her gaze with his own. “Did something ever seem completely right to you?”

“What?” Had he lost his mind? Yeah, they were having a fantastic weekend. And yeah, she couldn’t wait to get back to the suite and tear off his clothes. But this wasn’t 1952. They could make love without getting married.

“This feels right,” he repeated. “I know it’s right.”

She took a step toward him. “Jack. The fortune-teller was a fraud.”

“This has nothing to do with the fortune-teller.”

“Then what does it have to do with?”

“You and me.”

“You and me are about to make love.”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Over and over again if I have my way.”

Kristy glanced at her own watch. “Not unless you’re a whole lot faster at it than I’ve fantasized.”

He drew back. “You’ve fantasized?”

“Yeah,” she admitted. “Haven’t you?”

“Oh, yeah.” His eyes went softer still. He blinked. “Marry me, Kristy.”

“No.”

A group of partiers rounded the corner, their drunken shouts and laughter intruding on the moment.

Jack whisked Kristy to a glass door, opening it to steer her onto a pillared patio overlooking the pools. He closed the door behind them.

“Listen to me,” he said.

“Jack,” she sighed, fighting hard to hold her emotional ground.

Truth was, making love to Jack over and over again for the rest of her life sounded really good right now. And there was a deceptive intimacy to huddling in the sheltered darkness while the storm rumbled and flashed in the sky. Raindrops battered the waxy leaves of the potted tropical plants, while a film of steam rose from the pool decks and fountains, obscuring the pot lights, giving the entire garden an eerie glow.

He moved in close, his whisper tortured and husky. “I can’t lose this chance. I can’t let you go.”

She squinted. Was he serious? Did he really want to see her again? Romantically?

She’d hardly dared hope.

No. Scratch that. She wouldn’t dare hope.

His fingertips brushed her cheek. “This is something, Kristy.”

Her chest contracted. She had to agree with him there. This was definitely something.

“Have you ever—” he breathed. Then he closed his eyes for a second, as if gathering his thoughts. “Have you ever, in your entire life, ever felt this way?”

She slowly shook her head. There were no words to describe how she felt about Jack—the passion, the admiration, the deep-down soul connection.

“We can’t let it go,” he said.

“We don’t have to let it go.” They could see each other again. He could come to New York. Heck, he had an office there, and his own jet plane. He could drop by and see her whenever he was in town.

He ran his hands up and down her arms. “How many people do you suppose say that?”

“Say they’ll get together again?”

He nodded. “Hundreds, maybe thousands. And how many of them ever do?”

She shrugged. Not many, she’d suspect, and that gave her a hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach.

“We leave this hotel, Kristy, and you know as well as I do that’ll be it.”

Would it? Would they really walk away from a connection this strong?

“You’ll go back to New York. I’ll go to L.A. We’ll e-mail, maybe call. But pretty soon, our memories will fade. We’ll decide it couldn’t have been as great as we thought. We’ll write each other off as a weekend fling.”

She found her voice. “We are a weekend fling.”

“We don’t have to be.” His hands met her upper arms, his voice going earnest. “We can be better than that. Let me make it so we … So I have to be better than that.”

She knew he was talking crazy. People didn’t get married to guarantee a second date. She opened her mouth to tell him so, but he put an index finger across her lips.

His gaze bore directly into hers. “I think I’m falling in love with you, Kristy.”

Her entire body convulsed with a wash of emotions and hormones. Love? Could this possibly be love?

“Don’t let me walk away from you, Kristy. Don’t let me be the man I know I’ll be.”

She wanted to say yes. In every fiber of her being, she longed to complete the fantasy.

Love.

She rolled the idea around in her brain.

She didn’t know anything about romantic love, but she’d sure never felt this way about any man before. And if this was as good as it got … Well, it was pretty darn good—talking, laughing, touching. All Jack, all day, every day, for ever and ever.

“Marry me,” he groaned, his hand tunneling into her damp hair, cupping her head, drawing her forward. “Make me come back to you.”

And then he kissed her. His hot lips possessing and devouring her own. Raw passion permeated every breath, as the wind swirled around them, tearing at their clothes, rattling the broad leaves. The staccato beat of the rain matched the frantic melding of their hearts.

She clung to his shoulders, tipping her head to deepen the kiss, her spine bending as she leaned back, baring her neck and chest and body to him. He peppered kisses on the exposed flesh, cupping his hand over her breast where her nipple had puckered beneath the thin, damp fabric. Sparks flew off in all directions, lighting her brain, making her feel as though absolute clarity was within her grasp.

The world fell away until there was nothing but Jack. Their differences didn’t matter. Geography didn’t matter. Fashion, business, money and power. None of it mattered. There weren’t two of them anymore, only one. And the universe would have to settle around that reality.

She anchored her hands in his thick hair, drawing him back, staring into his passion-clouded eyes.

“Yes,” she said. “Yes, yes and yes.”

He sighed. Then he entwined his fingers with hers, straightening until he faced her. “You have made me unbelievably happy.”

Kristy smiled at him, everything inside her going calm. They’d make it work. She knew with an absolute certainty that she could put her faith in Jack.

Hand in hand, they floated down the hallway to the hotel chapel.

There, Kristy was given a delicate bouquet of white roses. They signed a bunch of papers. Jack asked the organist to play “At Last,” and he chose plain gold bands, whispering promises of diamonds in her future.

But Kristy didn’t need diamonds. She didn’t need designer clothes or corporate jets or a high-end penthouse. All she needed was Jack. And, as the chaplain asked her to repeat the age-old vows of faith and fidelity, she knew she was getting Jack forever.

NEXT TO THE big four-poster bed, with Kristy in his arms, Jack ignored the heated accusations of betrayal and deceit that pounded away at his brain. Instead, he peeled away her silk dress, revealing her creamy, pink-tipped breasts, and honestly told himself he was the luckiest man in the world.

“Beautiful,” he murmured more to himself than to her. “So beautiful.” Then he placed a soft kiss on one tip and then the other.

Kristy drew in a gasp of pleasure, her fingers curling into his hair.

“I love you,” she gasped, and a knife twisted deep inside his heart.

“And I’m about to love you,” he growled in return, hating that he had to fudge the phrase. She deserved better.

“For just as long as you’ll let me,” he finished.

Then he tugged her dress down to her ankles and gently pushed her back on the bed to stare at smooth stomach, her lacy black panties and the creamy thighs that twitched ever so slightly in anticipation of his touch. He’d pay for this one, that was for sure. But no power on heaven or earth could stop him from making love to her tonight.

She reached for him, and he caught her hand, staring into her eyes as he kissed each one of her fingers.

“I want you so bad,” he told her truthfully. “Like I’ve never wanted anything in my life.”

She smiled up at him, blinking a sheen of moisture from her eyes. He stripped off his shirt, tearing most of the buttons. Then he yanked off his pants, and her eyes went wide at his naked body.

“It’s been …”

He waited.

“A while,” she finished.

A feeling of primal possessiveness welled up inside him. He reached for the delicate wisp of her panties and discovered his hand was shaking.

She covered his blunt fingers with her small, manicured hand.

“Nervous?” she asked.

Hell no. “Trying to take it slow,” he managed.

She hooked her thumbs into the lace strips at her hip bones and pulled downward. “Why?”

He blinked, transfixed by the light downy curls covering her innermost secrets. The rampage of lust that slammed into him almost knocked him over. He grasped her panties and finished the job for her. “Damned if I know.”

Then he eased down atop her, kissing her deeply, urging her mouth open, capturing her tongue, while his hand worked its way down her smooth skin. He thrummed one nipple, rolling it to a peak, encouraged by the groans and moans and the wriggle of her small body under his thighs. He followed her ribcage, dipping into her navel, teasing her soft curls, feeling the puffs of her gasping breath against his ear.

Then her hands went on a journey of their own, along his side, her thumbs grazing his flat nipples, her fingertips digging into his back, just hard enough to ratchet up his desire. Then they trailed over his buttocks, to the backs of his thighs, her nails grazing his skin, circling in, starting a familiar pulse at the base of his brain.

In an act of self-preservation, he grasped her hands, dragging them up, pinning them firmly to the mattress on either side of her head. She tried to protest, but he kissed it away. He used his knee to nudge her thighs apart. Then he pulled back, ever so slightly, watching her expression as he eased his way inside.

Her lips parted, rounding in an “Oh,” while her hips flexed against him. He gritted his teeth, refusing to rush, letting her heat and moisture envelope him. Though his brain screamed at him to hurry, and his hormones battled his muscles for control, he forced himself to stop, to regroup, then to carry on one centimeter at a time.

Kristy thrashed her head from side to side. She drew up her knees and pushed her hips forward. But he drew back with her, controlling the pace, holding them both on the edge of exquisite torture.

His muscles turned to molten steel, and her pleas for mercy scalded what was left of his self-control. But he didn’t give in … didn’t give in … didn’t give—

A pithy swear word leaped from his soul, and he lunged forward, burying himself to the hilt.

She freed her hands, and her arms wrapped tight around his neck. Her lips and tongue planted hot, wet kisses along his shoulder.

His mouth was jealous, so he cupped her chin, lining her up for a carnal kiss as his body found its rhythm. He teased her tongue, sucked on her lips, tasted the sweet nectar of her mouth.

Her hands squeezed tight on his biceps, her fingernails denting his skin. Sweat formed between them, slicking their skin, adding to the eroticism of their joining. He cupped her buttocks, drawing her tight against him, tighter, tighter, as he pumped harder and faster. He could feel her muscles tense. Her mewls of desire grew higher pitched, louder against his ear.

This was it. He was losing it.

He held on, held on, held on.

Then her keening cry and the convulsions of her body sent him crashing over the edge. Waves of release washed over him as he held her, reveling in the warm buzzing glow of satiation.

Reality was going to hit them like a freight train, he knew. But, for now, nothing mattered except the small sporadic twitches that told him Kristy was resting on the same plane of satisfaction as him. He inhaled the scent of her hair, stroked his hand over her full breast, tasted the salt of her skin.

Her breathing gradually relaxed, and he eased her sleeping body into a spoon against his own. Then he reached for his cell, and sent a quick text message to Simon.

No need to head for L.A. now. Jack had accomplished his mission.

He swallowed a sudden lump in his throat, his usual self-righteousness was battling an unfamiliar and unsettling slither of guilt. He told himself it had to be done. The family was his responsibility. And, anyway, Kristy had brought it on herself.

She had.

He hadn’t been given a choice.

Then she wriggled her bare bottom against him, and his arm spontaneously tightened around her. She turned her head to look up at him and smiled like an angel, even as the unmistakable glow of desire rose in her blue eyes.

He chuckled softly, brushing a lock of hair from her flushed cheek. “Again?”

She nodded, and he immediately kissed her swollen mouth.

His body sprang to attention. He flipped her onto her back, pressing her warmth and softness into the big, wide mattress. Just a little longer, he promised himself as desire and passion licked at the corners of his soul. Just a few more hours in paradise.

He’d be burning in hell soon enough.