Читать книгу Misbehaving Under the Mistletoe: On the First Night of Christmas... / Secrets of the Rich & Famous / Truth-Or-Date.com - Heidi Rice, Charlotte Phillips, Charlotte Phillips - Страница 15

SEDUCTIVE, intensely erotic images swirled in Cassie’s head as she drifted out of a dream-filled sleep. Her eyelids fluttered open and the fierce tug of arousal pulsing in her sex intensified as she became aware of the muscular forearm banded under her breasts. Deep, even breathing brushed the top of her head and a warm body pressed against her back.

Jace.

She blinked at the thin winter sunlight gilding the opulent furnishings of his hotel suite and shifted slightly, the tenderness between her thighs so acute it was almost as if he were still lodged inside her. A hot flush swept through her as the erotic images from her dream recurred in vivid detail. And she realised they weren’t dreams at all, but memories.

She tensed as Jace’s sleep-roughened murmur made the hair on the back of her neck prickle. His arm tightened briefly under her breasts and then relaxed back into sleep.

Waiting a minute to make sure he was completely asleep, she took a moment to enjoy the feel of being wrapped so securely in his embrace.

A wistful smile curled her lips. So Jace Ryan was a snuggler? Who would have thought it?

Dispelling the thought and the tightening in her chest that accompanied it, she scooted over in incremental movements, then gingerly lifted his arm from around her waist and placed it behind her.

He grunted, and she sucked in a breath, praying he wouldn’t wake up.

Then he flopped over onto his back, taking the sheet with him, and she let out the breath she’d been holding. She twisted round, then hesitated, momentarily mesmerised by the handsome face thrown into sharp relief by the morning sunlight peeking through the room’s heavy velvet curtains. With his jaw shadowed by morning stubble, the thick locks of hair falling across his brow and that magnificent body bare right down to the springy curls of hair that peeked above the sheet draped low on his hips, it took Cassie a moment to catch her breath.

He had to be the most beautiful man she’d ever seen. And he’d been all hers for the wildest night of her life. She forced herself to look away and climb off the bed as carefully as possible so as not to wake him.

The night was over now and she needed to go home. He’d asked her about extending their fling, and as much as she yearned to wake him up and accept the offer she wasn’t going to. She couldn’t take the risk. While she might want to believe she could be smart and sensible about a brief fling with Jace and just concentrate on enjoying lots of really amazing sex for the next week or so, she didn’t entirely trust herself. Those silly clutches in her heartbeat, last night and this morning, were proof that her delusional tendencies hadn’t quite died the death she’d hoped in the last nine months … And she wasn’t ready yet to tempt fate with someone as devastating as Jace Ryan.

It was cowardly and fairly pathetic, but she could live with that. What she couldn’t live with was the thought of making a fool of herself all over again with yet another man who had nothing to offer her. Her brow creased as the pulse of awareness rippled across her nerve endings.

Well, apart from lots of really amazing sex, that is.

She gathered up her tunic and underwear from the other side of the room, determined not to give in to the tempting thought. But she couldn’t quite resist returning to the bedside to study him while he slept as she slipped on her clothing.

As she sat in the chair by the bed, and rolled on the luxury silk tights he’d bought her, it occurred to her that, unlike the other men she’d known, Jace didn’t look any more vulnerable in sleep than he did when he was awake.

Was that part of his allure? she wondered. Was that the quality that had made him so irresistible last night but made her so wary of him in the cold light of morning? That, unlike her, he seemed so sure of himself? So controlled? Even in the throes of lovemaking, at the height of passion, he hadn’t lost the commanding, almost ruthless self-confidence of someone who knew exactly what he wanted out of life. And was more than prepared to do whatever he had to do to get it.

Standing up, she smoothed damp palms down the beaded tunic, then leant over the bed and pressed the lightest of kisses to the rough stubble on his cheek. The tantalising musk of vanilla soap and man filled her senses.

‘Goodbye, Jace,’ she whispered.

Then she turned and hurried from the room, trying exceptionally hard not to think about missing out on the sexiest, most exhilarating Christmas of her entire life. Or the painful ache under her breastbone that she refused to interpret.

She’d done the smart, sensible thing. She was now officially a grown-up.

Cassie’s ink pen jolted as the doorbell buzzed, sending a thick black line slashing through the Sugar Plum Fairy’s nose and ruining two hours’ work.

She cursed and dropped the pen into the cup she kept at the side of her drawing easel. It was her own stupid fault. She shouldn’t have attempted to design her Christmas cards today. She’d been jumpy ever since she’d got back from the West End, her hormones refusing to settle down despite all her best efforts.

The doorbell buzzed again. Wiping her hands with a washcloth, she got up and walked from her bedroom, through the tiny living room to the front door, ruthlessly quashing the hope that it might be Jace. He didn’t even know where she lived. And anyway, she didn’t want to see him; the endorphin withdrawal he’d caused was quite hard enough to deal with without the added stimulation of seeing him again.

Unlocking the deadbolt, she pulled the door open.

‘Hey there, what’s up?’ Nessa grinned, holding up a grease-spotted bag from the bakery downstairs. ‘I brought apple Danish to bribe you into talking about your new man over morning coffee.’ She breezed past Cassie into the flat, her extensions arranged in corkscrew curls that bobbed around her shoulders as she waltzed into the kitchen.

Cassie stifled a groan. She loved Nessa like a sister. But the last thing she needed right now was to have to relive her wild night with Jace.

‘He’s not my new man,’ she grumbled. Or not any more. She followed Nessa into the snug galley kitchen. ‘And anyway it’s nearly lunchtime,’ she moaned, attempting to redirect the conversation. ‘Pastries will spoil our appetite.’ Not to mention apply several extra pounds to her hips, which she probably didn’t need. A vision of Jace’s ex-wife with her skeletal supermodel figure popped into Cassie’s head.

Correction, which she definitely didn’t need.

Bending to grab Cassie’s coffee jar out of the fridge, Nessa gave a rich chuckle. ‘You’re very grumpy this morning.’ She straightened, shooting Cassie a knowing smile and not looking redirected in the least. ‘Couldn’t be because you didn’t get enough sleep last night?’ She wiggled her eyebrows before ladling coffee into the cafetière. ‘Now could it?’

Cassie sighed and gave up. She knew Nessa. They’d been best friends since their first day at Hillsdown Road when Nessa had got a detention for talking back to the teacher, and Cassie had got one too for giggling at Nessa’s antics.

Nessa loved to share and discuss. She adored girl talk. And she was like a Rottweiler with a T-bone when it came to talking about sex. No way would she let the subject of Cassie’s wild night drop until she’d got all the juicy details.

‘Fine, all right.’ Cassie grabbed the kettle, held it over the sink and wrenched on the tap. ‘You got me. I did the wild thing with Jace Ryan last night.’

Nessa gave a deep chortle. ‘I knew it.’

‘How?’ Cassie asked as she plonked the kettle onto its stand and flicked the switch on. Surely it couldn’t be that obvious?

‘Well, now, let me see,’ Nessa said as her gaze roamed over Cassie’s rapidly flushing face. ‘Apart from that patch of whisker burn on your chin. There’s that dazed look in your eyes that says your girly bits definitely got one heck of a wake-up call last night.’

‘I see,’ Cassie muttered, not too pleased with the reminder.

Her girly bits weren’t doing denial nearly as well as she’d hoped when she’d walked out on Jace that morning. And Nessa’s observation was not helping them get with the programme.

‘So tell me,’ Nessa said, pouring boiling water onto the grounds and infusing the small room with the tempting aroma of fresh coffee. ‘Is that boy as mad, bad and dangerous to know as I remember him?’

Cassie lifted the pint bottle out of the fridge, added a splash of milk to the two Drama Queen mugs Nessa had placed on the counter top, and tried not to remember exactly how mad and bad Jace Ryan was in bed. ‘He’s certainly not a boy any more,’ she murmured.

Nessa gave a joyous whoop, arranging the two apple pastries onto a plate. ‘Hallelujah and amen to that!’ She lifted her coffee, toasted Cassie with the china mug. ‘It’s about time you got yourself a man who knows what he’s doing.’ Picking up the plate, she led Cassie into the living room. They settled in their usual seats on the vintage fifties couch. ‘So your Christmas is looking up, right? No more worries about missing he who shall not be named,’ she hissed in a deliberately theatrical voice, using the nickname she’d coined for Lance, the morning Cassie had run round to her best friend to tell her the sordid details of what she’d discovered Lance and Tracy doing on her vintage couch. ‘You got yourself a real man to snuggle up with on Christmas morning now.’

Cassie took a careful sip of her scalding coffee, and glanced over the rim of her mug at Nessa. ‘Not exactly,’ she said, and braced herself for the inevitable.

Nessa’s perfectly plucked brows drew down in a sharp frown and she placed her mug on the coffee table. ‘Why not exactly?’

‘It was strictly a one-night deal.’

‘You mean he doesn’t want a repeat performance? Why not? Is there something wrong with him?’ Nessa’s voice was so full of indignation on Cassie’s behalf she almost didn’t want to admit the truth. Why not let Jace take the heat instead of her?

Unfortunately, the guilty flush burned in her cheeks before she could even open her mouth. Nessa’s brows arrowed down further as suspicion flickered into her eyes.

Why couldn’t she even tell a decent white lie? It was pathetic.

‘Wait a minute, it’s not him.’ Nessa pointed an accusatory finger at her. ‘It’s you, isn’t it? Please tell me you’re not still holding a candle to that tool Lance?’

‘No, it’s nothing like that. It’s just …’ Cassie hesitated. How did she explain her cowardice to Nessa, who was bolder than anyone she knew? ‘Jace suggested continuing our fling, until he leaves on New Year’s Day. But I don’t want to do that.’

Nessa held up her hand, her eyes narrowing. ‘Let me get this straight. The man offered you—’ she did a quick calculation on her fingers ‘—twelve whole days of really amazing fornication. That’ll see you right through your Christmas funk. And you turned him down?’

Cassie shifted in her seat. She hadn’t exactly turned him down. She hadn’t even been brave enough to do that. But there was absolutely no need to admit that to Nessa.

‘Ness, I’m not ready for something like this.’

‘But it’s been nine months since you kicked out that no-good, lying—’

‘I’ve slept with exactly two men in my life,’ she interrupted, not wanting to hear another of Nessa’s tirades against Lance. ‘Well, three now,’ she revised. ‘And I’m not sure I …’

Cassie’s fumbling explanation ground to a halt as Nessa sucked her teeth in derision.

‘What?’ Cassie said. ‘Why do you look so fierce?’

‘Right this second, I’m visualising what I’d like to do to that little cheater’s nuts. This is all his fault,’ Nessa snarled, sounding as fierce as she looked.

Cassie sighed. ‘It’s not his fault. Not any more. I got over him months ago.’ The truth was it had been remarkably easy to let go of Lance. Once she’d kicked him out of her life it had become distressingly obvious that they had never been that good together. What had been much harder to let go had been all the romantic dreams she’d had of having a settled secure life with a man who loved her. Something her mother had never managed. Cassie had picked Lance for the male lead in her Happy Ever After plan because he’d been convenient and available and had seemed to want the same thing. She’d never looked beneath the surface of their relationship. Had taken the tepid attraction she felt for him, and the yearning to have a real commitment from a man who wouldn’t break his promises, and turned their relationship in her mind into something it had never actually been.

‘This goes further back than that,’ Cassie admitted. ‘Lance was just the trigger to make me realise something I’ve been refusing to admit to myself for years.’

‘What’s that?’ Nessa said, clearly not getting Cassie’s rambling explanation. Not all that surprising as she was only just starting to understand it herself.

‘Remember how I always fell for my dad’s lies too, Ness? Remember how excited I’d be when he said he was taking me to the zoo, or the cinema? I’d build all my hopes up, convinced this time would be different. And then I’d be devastated when he didn’t show.’

‘It isn’t your fault your daddy was a tool too.’

‘And David?’ Cassie said. ‘Remember him? The love of my life in art college who turned out not to be all that interested in me? Can’t you see there’s a pattern here? That has as much to do with me as them?’

‘What pattern?’

‘I’ve always been so gullible. So easily fooled by even the slightest show of affection. It’s pathetic.’

Reaching across the coffee table, Nessa covered the hands Cassie had clenched in her lap. ‘You’re not gullible. You’re sweet natured and optimistic. It’s not a crime to always think the best of people.’

Cassie met her friend’s steady, reassuring gaze. ‘It is if you always end up letting yourself get hurt … I just don’t want to tempt fate with a guy like Jace Ryan.’

‘Damn.’ Nessa shook her head. ‘That is a shame, when he’s so good in bed.’

Cassie sent her friend a weak smile. ‘He’s too good in bed. How can I guarantee I won’t start getting more than just sexually attracted to him? I’ll overdose on really amazing sex. And before you know it I’ll be concocting yet another stupid fantasy that’s going to end up biting me on the backside.’

Nessa threw up her hands, looking exasperated. ‘Now wait a minute. Who says this couldn’t lead to more? Stranger things have happened. Look at me and Terrence. We plain out hated each other at school and now we’re engaged to be married.’

Nessa and Terrence hadn’t hated each other at all; they’d just been in denial about their attraction for years. Something all their friends had figured out long before they had.

‘Now who’s the hopeless romantic?’ Cassie arched her eyebrow. ‘Quite apart from the fact Jace lives in another country.’ She hesitated—or at least she had assumed he did, it was one of the many things they hadn’t discussed during their all-night sex-fest. ‘We’re not talking about Terrence. We’re talking about Jace the Ace. Do you have any idea how many girlfriends he got through at school? Because I do. He was my first major crush.’ In fact he’d been her only crush. Once he’d been kicked out of school, she’d never got so obsessed again, because no one else had ever been able to live up to his perfection in her teenage eyes. ‘Every other week, he’d have a new girlfriend hanging on his arm.’ And every other week she’d gone through the torments of hell, as only a thirteen-year-old could, because that girl hadn’t been her.

What a complete twit she’d been about men. Even then.

Nessa cradled her mug in her palms, scowling slightly. ‘All right, I’ll admit he may not be long-haul material. He certainly wasn’t at school. But people change.’

‘He hasn’t,’ Cassie mumbled, remembering the ‘have I slept with you?’ remark.

‘Maybe. Maybe not. But one thing I do remember,’ Nessa countered. ‘He was always real careful not to be doing more than one girl at once. He was never a cheater,’ she finished pointedly.

‘Great!’ Cassie puffed out a breath. ‘So he’s a serial monogamist. So what? He’s still far too dangerous a man for me to get involved with at the moment. I’m through having my dreams trampled on … and I’ve got to take some of the responsibility for that. I’ve got to be proactive from now on, and make sure I only have realistic dreams.’

‘Realistic dreams!’ Nessa scoffed. ‘Where’s the fun in that? That sounds more boring than one of my Aunt Chantelle’s Bible-study classes.’

‘The fun is,’ Cassie said mildly, ‘with realistic dreams, you might actually have some hope of them coming true.’