Читать книгу Unwrap Me - Susan Lyons - Страница 8

December was whacked this year, Nick thought. The last two weeks of faking Christmas—doing the normal stuff but at the wrong time—had been fun, but it hadn’t felt right. And now it was all over. Christmas was over on December 14.

He couldn’t be mad at his parents, though. At the send-off party on the cruise ship, they’d been as excited as kids at Disneyland. Trying to get in the mood, he’d drunk champagne and spiked eggnog, but each sip had made him feel emptier, so he’d stopped.

Now the ship would be passing under the Lions’ Gate Bridge while his parents dressed for a fancy late dinner. And he was driving out of downtown Vancouver, heading for a strange woman’s apartment in Kitsilano. He’d been sent by his sister-in-law on some crazy mission.

On the passenger seat of his Dakota 4x4 was an envelope Karen had said contained a Secret Santa gift for a friend at her office. He’d asked why she couldn’t give it to this Jude person at work tomorrow, but she’d said it had to be delivered to the door. And she couldn’t do it herself, because she and Kris had special plans—wink, wink.

Lucky them.

Fact was, Nick wasn’t in any rush to go home and be alone, so he’d agreed.

This was the start of a few days off work. It would be a while before he’d be back at the fire hall, hanging out with his second family. At any other time of year, being alone wouldn’t have made him think twice. But now everyone was gift shopping, caroling, wrapping presents, baking cookies with their families. And for him that stuff was over for the year.

God, he was pitiful. Time to get a life. Tomorrow was Friday. In the evening he’d go to the Players Chophouse down by BC Place and check out the women. It’d be nice to find someone fun to share the season with. Somewhere there had to be a great girl who didn’t give a damn about getting a diamond ring on her finger.

Glad to have a plan, he concentrated on finding the address Karen had given him. The big brown house with cream trim had probably once been a family home, but now it was divided into two apartments. He walked up the steps and pressed the buzzer for the door bearing Jude’s number.

An overhead light came on, and the door eased open an inch or two, held in place by a chain. A slice of female face peered through the gap. “Yes?”

“Jude Benedetto? I’m Nick Buchanan. Karen’s brother-in-law. She sent me over.”

Brown eyes narrowed below well-shaped black eyebrows. “Why?”

He held out the envelope. “To deliver your Secret Santa gift.”

Her eyes squeezed shut, as though she was annoyed or in pain. “I keep telling her I’m not into that stuff.”

“Uh…you don’t like presents?” He raised his eyebrows. This was one unusual woman.

Her eyes opened again, and she gave a wry smile. “Sorry, Nick. You don’t deserve to get caught in the middle. Thanks for playing messenger. Give me the gift, and you can go home.”

He liked her voice. Low and musical, threaded with a touch of humor. Nick bit his lip, guessing he was going to piss her off again. “Karen said I had to hang around while you opened it.”

“What? Oh, good god.” She shook her head and then closed the door.

What was he supposed to do now? But then he heard the rattle of a chain, and the door opened—wide this time.

“It’s cold,” she said. “You might as well come in.”

“Thanks.” As he stepped inside and she closed the door, he stared at her. Man, Jude was something else. A tumbled mess of shiny black hair down past her shoulders. Olive-toned skin and striking features to go with her Italian surname. A build that was tall and shapely, shown off by jeans and a long-sleeved turtlenecked T-shirt the cinnamon-nutmeg color of mulling spices. Same color as her eyes, he realized as she stood in front of him and tilted her head inquiringly.

Attraction sparked through him, putting every cell—and especially the ones in his cock—on the alert.

Realizing she’d held out her hand, he put the envelope into it. Deliberately he let his fingers brush hers. Oh, yeah, more sparks. It was sure as hell getting hot in here.

She ran a fingernail under the sealed flap, muttering, “Let’s get this over with.” When she pulled out a card with Santa on it, her eyebrows drew together. Then she opened it and frowned harder. “What on earth is this supposed to mean?”

She thrust the card toward him. Below the printed message that read, Santa wishes you a Very Merry Christmas, Karen had written For you, Jude, the perfect gift. Your Secret Santa gives you Nick. He’s just what you wished for.

What the hell?

Jude studied the man standing in her entrance hall.

The moment she’d seen him through the narrow gap between door and frame, she’d noted that he was unusually good-looking. Even though she’d been upset with Karen, she’d had to enjoy the eye candy. Now that he was inside, smelling of a fresh winter night, she could appreciate him fully.

Nick Buchanan was tall and rugged looking without being bulky, even in a heavy sheepskin jacket. His hair was as black as hers, a little on the long side, but it softened his strong features.

Features that right now were twisted into a puzzled scowl. “You wished for me? You don’t even know me.”

“I didn’t wish for you. Get a grip. I don’t know what Karen’s talking about.”

“Me neither.” He shrugged out of the heavy coat and tossed it over the chair that, along with a small table and an oval mirror, made up the furniture in the entrance hall. In well-worn jeans and a red flannel shirt, he looked better than a guy had any right to look. His eyes, gazing at her in bewilderment, were a striking gray-green.

“I’ll call her and ask,” Jude said.

“Oh, I wouldn’t. She and Kris are, uh, busy.” His cheeks, flushed from coming in out of the cold, turned even pinker. How cute that a big, masculine guy like this blushed.

So, Karen and Kris were having sex. Lucky them. For Jude, it had been almost a year. A fact she’d been reminded of when Nick’s fingers had brushed against hers, igniting a pulse of arousal. Oh, it had been a long time since she’d felt that heat.

Only a couple of weeks ago, she’d joked with Karen about…“Oh. My. God.” Jude had made a flip comment about wanting to spend the holidays having amazing sex with a superhot guy. It had been just a silly, girly conversation. Karen couldn’t have taken her seriously.

But what else could the card mean?

This time the heat that rushed through Jude was embarrassment. She pressed her hands against cheeks that must have been ten times brighter than Nick’s.

“You figured it out?” he asked.

She sent you to do me.

Did he know? Cautiously, she asked, “She really didn’t tell you why she sent you?”

“To deliver the gift. That’s all.” He took a wheedling tone, and his eyes twinkled. “Come on, let me in on the secret.”

“She’s matchmaking,” Jude said grimly. “But you can forget it. I don’t need her help to find a man.”

“God, no.”

He sounded so sincere she was flattered. Then his eyes narrowed. “Wait a minute, it’s me she’s matchmaking. Jeez, I hate it when that happens. Everyone’s trying to marry me off.”

“Marry you off?” She shook her head vigorously. “No, you’ve got that wrong. Karen knows the last thing I’m looking for is a husband.”

“Yeah? So why would she matchmake you if you’re not—” He stared at her, eyes widening and then beginning to gleam in a sexy way that—damnit—sent more pulses of arousal thrumming through her body.

By now her cheeks must have been the color of Nick’s shirt. She darted a glance at the mirror in the hall. Yes, definitely scarlet. “You should go.”

“Sex?” he asked softly. “She sent me here for—”

Before he could repeat the word, she said, “I’m mortified. How could she do this to me? And to you. Like, what, you’re a superstud who’s going to service my every sexual need?” An image flashed into her mind of this gorgeous guy naked between her thighs. Her pussy gave a needy throb.

A grin began to curve his full lips.

“Don’t you dare even think it!” she warned him.

He lost the smile and shook his head. “Sorry. I honestly didn’t know what she had in mind. I’ll go now.”

She grabbed his coat and thrust it toward him, holding it so there was no way their fingers could touch. “You bet you will.”

A flicker of something crossed his features. Something like sadness or maybe loneliness. But, no, she must have been mistaken; it was gone in a flash. He didn’t put the coat on—just headed for the door.

Hand on the knob, he glanced over his shoulder. “I’m gonna kill Karen.” He raised an eyebrow. “Unless you want first shot.”

A laugh spluttered out of her before she could stop it. She clapped a hand over her mouth, but his eyes sparkled and he began to chuckle, and she couldn’t hold back.

After a few moments, she tried to pull herself together. Pressing her hands against her hot cheeks, she shook her head, still amazed at her friend’s audacity but no longer angry. Funny how a good belly laugh could mellow a girl. “Okay, I guess I don’t really believe she sent you here for sex. But what was she thinking?”

Not that the idea of sex with Nick was a turnoff. The guy was the poster boy for “hot.” So hot her whole body felt flushed and achy. If she had been in the market for a superstud, Karen couldn’t have chosen better.

“I dunno.” His eyes had gone soft, serious, almost vulnerable. “We just saw my folks off on a tropical cruise, and I wasn’t looking forward to going back to an empty apartment. Maybe she took pity.”

Jude raised a skeptical eyebrow. Cute line, but she wasn’t buying. “Uh-huh. Didn’t Karen tell me you’re a firefighter?” At his nod, she went on. “You’re not exactly hard on the eyes, and you seem at least moderately intelligent. I can’t believe you have trouble finding dates.”

“Nah.” The twinkle was back in his eyes. “But the women I meet are either kinda young and immature, or they’re seriously into marriage—and not into me when I tell them I’m not.”

“You really don’t want to get married?”

“Not yet. Don’t want to be tied down, and I don’t want that kind of responsibility.”

“You’re a firefighter, yet you don’t like the idea of responsibility?”

He shrugged.

Nick’s job required a major degree of responsibility, so maybe it made sense that he’d want a carefree personal life. Points to him for not leading a girl on if she was looking for commitment.

This guy was quite something. Handsome, sexy, honest. If Jude was looking for a no-strings fling, he’d be perfect.

“I should get going.” He held out his hand. “It’s been nice meeting you.”

She met his hand with hers. Damn, she’d forgotten what happened when they touched. More zingy heat, and the zing went straight to her pussy. Quickly she pulled free. “You, too.” Her voice caught in her throat, so the words came out sounding brusque.

She moved to the door and opened it.

“Bye, Jude.” As he turned to step through, she again saw that tiny shadow cross his face.

He’d confessed he hadn’t wanted to go back to an empty apartment. And the truth was, much as she loved her comfy home, sometimes it felt empty, too.

She watched his broad back as he walked out the door. A hot firefighter would definitely warm up the empty corners. Asking him in wouldn’t be a commitment to have sex, simply a chance to get to know each other. Then, depending on how the evening progressed…

God, what was she thinking? She’d never in her life had sex on a first date. And this wasn’t even a date.

He was halfway down the steps. She hadn’t closed the door behind him, and cold air rushed in, making her shiver and wrap her arms around herself.

What could it hurt? “Nick?” she called.

He turned. “Yeah?”

Oh, god, how could she phrase this? “Want to come in for a drink, and we can plot how to murder Karen?”

A broad smile flashed. “You bet.” He came up the steps, and when he was under the porch light she saw the gleam in those greenish gray eyes.

She shivered again, but this time not from the cold.