After the Christmas Party (4 page)

An inferno burned her cheeks.

“Riley, I…” She pulled the covers even tighter around her, holding on in case the material got a sudden urge to slip below her neck and put her chest and abs on display for his inspection. No washboard anywhere in sight at her midsection. More like a laundry basket. Taking a deep breath, she tried to pull her thoughts together and away from their bodies. “I don’t do this.”

“This?” His face was unreadable, his eyes dark. She didn’t like the look and found herself wishing things were different. That she was different. That she could have woken up in bed with him and not freaked out but reveled in a night full of passion. That she really had woken up with a smile. That she could have been good
enough that he could have woken up with a smile. That instead of lashing out at him with accusatory questions she could have teased him awake with kisses and had a morning full of passion.

A morning she’d remember always.

A morning he’d always remember.

A morning that would leave them both exhausted and smiling.

But that wasn’t her. She was a woman who disliked Christmas, disliked men, was terrible at sex, and although she’d come to Pensacola to forget her past, she could only handle confronting one hang-up at a time. She seriously had her work cut out for her even with that.

“What is it that you don’t do?” Riley prompted when she failed to elaborate.

Everything
. She sighed, took a deep breath and went for broke.

“Wake up in bed with a man and not remember how I got here and what we did while here.” She grimaced. She sounded horrible. Waking up next to him was horrible. He probably thought she was horrible—in bed and out of it. “I don’t do that. Ever.”

“I just told you, we didn’t do anything, not really. We ended up here because I drove you home from the Christmas party and you invited me in. And, although there’s another bedroom, there is no bed.”

Which meant he must have at least considered sleeping elsewhere.

“I wasn’t doing the floor,” he said matter-of-factly, “and I’m too tall to comfortably sleep on your girly sofa.”

She did have a girly sofa. A plush Victorian piece
that she loved because it had been the first piece of furniture she’d ever bought for herself, but it really wasn’t that comfy. Not that comfort mattered so much, because she never had company or spent much time there.

Trying to recall the previous night’s events, she closed her eyes, thought back. The Christmas party. She’d danced with Riley, sung one silly reindeer song with him, celebrated that he’d won one of the door prizes when random names had been drawn from a stocking, then they’d left. He’d driven her home. They’d walked into her house and then he’d kissed her. No mistletoe required. Just a simple good-night kiss that had somehow morphed into something more, something hotter, something that hadn’t been simple at all.

Wow, if his kiss had been that amazing she might have really woken up with a smile had they had sex. Then again, had they had sex he’d know how lame her lovemaking actually was.

Her panties weren’t the only thing she was wearing.

She reached up, touched the door prize he’d won and given to her. “You won this.”

He shrugged, causing the covers to slip a little lower at his waist. “I gave it to you.”

He’d taken the pearl necklace out of the velvet box and fastened it around her neck. There had been something mesmerizing about him putting the necklace on her. Something erotic and gentle and totally captivating.

Kind of like his abs.

No wonder she’d asked him to stay. He’d been the perfect date.

Only they hadn’t been on a date.

“You can have it back if you want it,” she offered, in case he regretted having given her the piece. Maybe he’d
expected bodily payment for the beads. Ha, had they been out of a gumball machine he might have gotten his money’s worth, but that’s about it if Chase’s claims about her skills could be believed.

Riley’s brows formed a V. “Why would I want them back? Don’t you like the necklace?”

“It’s lovely.”

“Not nearly as lovely as you are.”

He was smooth with the lines. Too smooth perhaps. She swallowed.

“You told me I was beautiful last night.”

Actually, he’d repeated the compliment several times.

“You were.” His eyes bored into hers. She didn’t have to be looking directly at him to feel his stare. He stirred beneath the covers, but he didn’t reach for her. Somehow she knew he wanted to.

“You are,” he continued. “Very beautiful.”

Last night, in her haze, he’d made her feel beautiful. Like the most beautiful woman in the world. This morning she felt like a woman who’d gone to bed without washing her face or brushing her teeth. She was rank and knew it.

“Why would you say that?”

“Because it’s true.”

The sincerity in his voice told her that he was either the world’s greatest liar or he believed what he said. Maybe he really did have fantastic blue contact lenses and they were blurred with sleep, leaving him blinded to the truth.

Making sure to keep the covers pulled over her almost bare body, she rolled over to face him directly. She could feel his body heat, could feel the magnetic pull of him. She wanted to touch. Really really wanted
to touch. His sheer physical perfection robbed her of thought. Or maybe it was his bare chest that made her brain waves frazzle. He was the one who was beautiful. Eye-poppingly, mouth-wateringly, finger-itchingly, body-twitchingly beautiful.

It occurred to her that the happy trail leading beneath the covers didn’t appear to have anything material impeding its path. At least she was wearing underwear.

No sexual intercourse, he’d said. That left a lot of possibilities. Oh, my.

“What happened to your clothes?” she choked out, more and more flustered that he was naked in her bed.

Although she recalled the removal of her clothes, she didn’t recall how he’d gone from fully dressed to whatever he still wore beneath her covers.

He was wearing something.
Wasn’t he? Just because she couldn’t see any outlines, it didn’t mean boxers or cotton briefs weren’t there, right?

His eyes glittered. “You don’t recall ripping them off me with your teeth, princess?”

She’d taken them off him? With her teeth? Her jaw dropped then clamped shut in case her teeth got any fresh ideas.

“Okay, it was bad of me to tease you.” His grin turned devilish. “You didn’t use your teeth.”

She’d…She closed her eyes and tried to recall the events of the night before. “We had sex, didn’t we?”

“I already told you that we didn’t have sex.” He sounded annoyed that she’d asked again, that she hadn’t taken him at his word.

Unable to resist a moment longer, she reached out beneath the covers to touch his chest. His bare chest. To
see if the feel of his skin was familiar, to see if touching him would cause a rush of memories.

“Then why are we naked in my bed?”

“I wasn’t planning to spend the night anywhere so I hadn’t packed any pajamas…not that I normally wear anything to bed. But I’m not naked. I’m wearing boxers and would be happy to show you if you’d like proof.” He covered her hand with his, brushed his thumb across her skin. “Besides, you looked as if you needed me to stay. My guess is that you don’t drink often.”

Still reeling from his offer to show her his underwear and just how tempted she was to take him up on that offer, she focused on the other part of what he’d said. “I don’t drink at all and I didn’t drink anything last night except fruit punch.”

“That was rum punch you were drinking, Trinity. It had alcohol in it.”

“The punch was…but…” Hadn’t she felt funny? Hadn’t she noticed that the more she’d drunk the less nervous she’d been?
Dear Lord
. “I was punch drunk.”

Looking as if he wanted to laugh, he just grinned. “You were a bit inebriated but no worries, you were a cute drunk.”

A cute drunk. As if such a creature existed. No one was a cute drunk. At least no one Trinity had ever had the misfortune of seeing drunk. Her mother had certainly never been cute. Chase had not been cute.

“I didn’t know there was alcohol in the punch.”

“It’s okay, princess.” His thumb paused and he gave her a sympathetic smile. “I figured out that you weren’t at a hundred percent. That’s why nothing happened.”

She tried again to remember the events of the night
before, but only bits and pieces came back to her. “You wanted something to happen?”

He gave her a look that questioned if she had really asked that. “Of course I wanted something to happen.”

“Why?”

He laughed but the sound came out a little stilted. “That’s a question with a very obvious answer.”

“Because you’re a guy?”

“Despite what the female population may believe, not every guy wants sex to the point of doing so with any willing woman.”

Which meant she’d been willing but he hadn’t been. Urgh. What was she thinking? Of course she’d been willing. The man was hot and got under her skin to probe places she’d rather keep locked away. She’d been under the influence to where her fears wouldn’t have come into play to remind her of yet another reason why she should keep her legs closed.

“I’m confused. You wanted something to happen, but even though I was willing, nothing happened?” Even as she said the words, the reality that they were almost naked, lying in her bed, hit her. That he could have taken advantage of her and he hadn’t. She liked that. A lot. Possibly because most of the men in her life had taken advantage at every opportunity presented. Not sexually, necessarily, but in any other way they could.

Riley made a sound that she wasn’t sure was a low laugh or a growl. “Yes, princess, I wanted something to happen. A lot of somethings. Had you been sober, this morning would have been very different.”

She didn’t doubt that the morning would have been different. Had they had sex, he probably would have snuck out at some point during the night. Or perhaps
he wouldn’t have bothered to sneak, he’d have just gone, and left her to her non-sexual self. She knew her strengths and weaknesses and if she hadn’t, Chase had done a really bang-up job of pointing them out to her and anyone else who had cared to listen. Sexual prowess wasn’t in her bag of tricks.

“I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want you to be sorry,” he surprised her by saying. “What I want is to see you smile.”

She bared her teeth in a semblance of a smile because, really, he deserved a smile. He was unlike any man she’d ever known and that made her want to know more…and terrified her, too.

“Not exactly what I had in mind, but it’s a start.” He smiled so warmly at her that the nausea within her actually eased. “Now, the most pressing question is whether you have any food in this joint so I can cook us something or would you like to go out for breakfast? I’m starved.”

In reality they did neither. Not long after she’d draped the comforter around her shoulders and rushed into her bathroom to clean up her mess of a face, he tapped on the door.

She cracked the door open to peer at him. He was fully dressed in his clothes from the night before.

“I’ve got to head to the hospital. I’m on call today, and they’ve had several chest pains come into the emergency room. Apparently the cath lab is a madhouse. Dr. Stanley is going to be tied up there for some time and there are two more chest pains on their way by ambulance.”

Trying not to look too disappointed that whatever
their morning had been going to bring had been interrupted, she nodded. “I understand.”

Apparently she didn’t do such a good job at hiding her doubts.

He tilted her chin toward him so he could fully see her face. “For whatever it’s worth, I don’t want to go.”

His fingers on her face were so warm, so tender that she sucked in her breath. “What is it you want?”

“To spend the day with you. Maybe help you drag out your Christmas decorations because your apartment is sadly lacking in Christmas spirit. Or, for that matter, we could decorate my tree. It’s been delivered, but I haven’t had a chance to trim and decorate it.”

He had a live Christmas tree? Who did that in these days of commercialized Christmas? Not that she’d be doing either of his suggestions. She’d had her fill of Christmas spirit the night before and preferred to stick her head in the ground until the season passed. Just look what happened when she tried to get into the spirit of things. She’d ended up drunk and waking in bed with a man she barely knew. No, thank you.

“Honestly, what we did wouldn’t matter so much just as long as I got to spend some time with you.”

From somewhere in her bedroom her cellphone started buzzing.

“If that’s who I think it is, you’ll probably get your wish. I’m on call today, too, and if you’ve been called in, I’m likely to be as well,” she mused, pulling her robe tight around her while she dashed toward where her phone had ended up the night before.

“The hospital?” he asked the moment she disconnected the call.

She nodded.

“Maybe the chest pains will end up gastro related rather than cardiac and we won’t have to stay long. We could grab lunch,” he suggested.

“Maybe,” she replied, dropping the phone back into the small black evening bag she’d carried the night before.

“Trinity?”

She glanced towards him.

“I like you.”

She wasn’t sure what to say.

“I’d like to see you again.”

Was he a glutton for punishment or what?

“Despite whatever impression I gave you last night, I’m really quite boring,” she said, wondering if she should also warn him about how much baggage she carried. The airport’s claim area had nothing on her.

“I don’t believe you.”

“You should,” she warned. “I’ve known me a lot longer than you have.”

He laughed then glanced at his watch. “I could never be bored around you, funny girl. Unfortunately, I have to get moving and your car is still at the hotel where the Christmas party was held. You’ll have to ride with me to the hospital so get hopping. We have lives to save.”

“Sure thing, snowflake.”

CHAPTER FOUR