Читать книгу All She Wants for Christmas - Stacy Connelly, Stacy Connelly - Страница 9

Clay leaned back against the limo’s leather seat. Satisfaction gave a greater buzz than champagne as he recalled the employees’ laughter and cheers as he called the winning numbers, raffling off electronics, Chicago Bulls basketball tickets and gift certificates to some of the finest local restaurants.

The party had been an unquestionable success. This date, however, was another matter, he thought, with a sideways glance at Holly. She’d fallen silent during the ride back to her apartment. Memories of their kiss tantalized him. He’d taken her off guard, but surprise hadn’t dimmed her sweet response. The thought alone quickened his heart rate, and the success of the evening gave him confidence that his luck would continue.

“The party was wonderful,” Holly complimented, her polite tone creating an unwanted distance.

Still, he felt a touch of pride as he said, “Not bad for a first time.”

“You’ve never had a company party before?”

Clay shook his head. “No. My father believed in keeping personal and professional lives separate.”

“But you think the two can coexist?”

“Actually, I’ve been accused of focusing too much on business. Tonight made me want to pay more attention to my personal life.”

“Clay.” He heard the hesitation in her voice as she shifted to face him. “I really want to thank you. What you did for the kids—”

Interrupting, he said, “Holly, I was glad to do it. But that’s not what tonight was about. At least, not for me.”

He waited for her to say the same, to admit that she’d gone with him for a reason other than gratitude, but she stayed silent. His confidence slipping, he tried again. “I asked you out because you’re a beautiful, desirable woman.”

This time, Holly’s breath caught, and she turned her face toward the window. She was so close, close enough for the scent of her perfume to tease his senses, close enough that if he reached out, he could trail his fingers along her leg, exposed by the tantalizing slit of her skirt. But even with only a few inches separating them, she maintained a distance he didn’t know how to breach.

“The holidays are a magical time, aren’t they?” she asked softly, her attention on the store windows, with their draping garland, red and gold bows, and flashing, colorful lights. “All the decorating, the shopping for the right gift, the planning for the perfect meal. It’s so wonderful at the time, but then it’s over, and you can’t help but feel disappointed.”

Reading between the lines, Clay heard what Holly didn’t say. This one night was all they would have. The rejection took him off guard, even more so than the desire pulsing hot and fast in his veins.

But he’d caught a glimpse of Holly’s life, the love and selflessness she showed the kids at Hopewell House. She wasn’t the type to go for a lighthearted fling. And with his attention focused on business, he didn’t have time for more.

Even if he did, marriage had taught him he lacked whatever it took to keep a woman happy in the long run. Why face that failure, that inadequacy inside himself again? Letting Holly go now would be best for both of them.

So why couldn’t he do it?

“I know what you mean. The disappointment when a moment that starts out so bright and beautiful comes to an end. But there’s one thing you forgot.”

Swallowing, Holly turned back and whispered, “What’s that?”

“The holidays are just getting started.”

In the shifting glow of passing streetlights, he saw her eyes widen and her gaze drop to his lips. “Clay.”

His name was less of a protest than a plea, and instant arousal answered. The loose curls of her upswept hair teased his knuckles as he cupped her nape and pulled her close. Her lips were already parted for him, and desire exploded at the first touch. He sank into the rich leather seat, bringing Holly with him. He slanted his mouth over hers, teasing, tasting, advancing, retreating…and she was right there with him, silently urging him on, her hands clutching his shoulders, her tongue drawing him deeper.

With Holly’s breasts teasing his chest, it was all Clay could do to keep his free hand at her waist. He wanted to feel her flesh in his hands, her skin against his. Wanted to hear her soft sounds of pleasure as her body welcomed his.

In the dim recess of his mind, he realized the limo’s subtle motion had ceased. He wished he could somehow signal his driver to keep going. Somewhere, anywhere, so long as it meant he and Holly never had to open the doors to reality.

But even as he reluctantly lifted his mouth from hers, it was obvious in her wide-eyed regret that reality had already sunk in. Immediately pulling away from him, she stammered, “That shouldn’t have…we shouldn’t have—”

The overhead light flared as the door opened, and Clay squinted at the sudden glare. Without waiting, Holly scrambled from the car, barely accepting the driver’s help. Clay caught up with her in two long strides and took her arm. “I’m walking you to your door,” he said in a voice that didn’t allow for protest.

Silently, they entered the building and climbed the flights of stairs. At her apartment, she turned to face him, her back to the door. He knew better than to expect an invitation inside, but he wasn’t giving up now. Not after that kiss.

He’d never expected it to go so far. How could he? A kiss had never taken him so far.

“I want to see you again, Holly.”

“Clay, we have nothing in common,” she protested. “Nothing—”

“Nothing but an explosive sexual attraction.”

Holly’s lashes fell, but not in time to hide the acknowledgement in her gaze. Still, she shook her head. “I can’t. I’m sorry.”

Holly slipped inside the apartment, with a whispered “Merry Christmas.” She eased the door shut, leaving Clay out in the cold. He was starting to walk away when he remembered the Santa suit he’d left in her apartment.

With a glance back at Holly’s doorway, he smiled and jogged down the stairs. At the very least, he had an excuse to see her again.

“Here comes Santa Claus…”

As Clay walked by his assistant’s desk, he heard Marie singing beneath her breath and glared a warning she was bound to ignore.

She’d been like a dog gnawing a bone ever since he’d arrived at work Monday morning to find his garment bag already hanging in his office. Holly had given the Santa suit to Marie, leaving him to explain how he’d left it at Holly’s apartment.

So much for seeing Holly again, Clay thought. That should have been the end of it. Unfortunately, he hadn’t been able to keep her off his mind. Too often, he found her sneaking into his thoughts when he should have been concentrating on business.