Saints and Sinners (A Classic Romance) (19 page)

"Ho, ho, ho, Santa. You have been a very naughty boy." Dee withdrew the filmy black negligee nestled in a purple-tissue-lined box. "You didn't buy this around here, did you? I've been working hard on improving my reputation, and yours wouldn't be sterling if someone caught you picking out this."

"I found it at a boutique last month when I was out of town. Do you like it?" His intimate smile set off an explosion of elation inside her, and she tingled from the roots of her hair to the soles of her feet. With his shirt unbuttoned and the snap of his jeans undone, he made a very sexy Santa.

They snuggled in the middle of her bed, their gifts for each other piled at the foot. "It's beautiful, Matthew. And very risqué. I love it."

"And you love me," he said huskily.

"You know that I do." She'd given him, after all, what he had insisted she would. Dee felt a bittersweet joy in that, quickly reminding herself that at least they had cherished memories no one could ever take away. Including the loss of her virtue. How she regretted that he hadn't known—would never know. And yet she was grateful that the obstacle that had kept her from expressing one certain truth had disappeared.

"I'm glad you appreciate this bit of nothing." He grinned. "After all, I did work up a sweat searching through a bunch of racks while the saleswoman kept holding up garter belts. When she started pulling out novelty panties I grabbed this so I could get out of there before she suggested handcuffs."

"You mean you didn't get me a pair?" Dee laughed, shutting her mind to thoughts of their precarious future. The night was magic, and so was the slight burning sensation between her legs.

"I'll save the accessories for next year," he murmured. Her high spirits took a quick dip. Would there be a next year? "Try it on for me?"

Dee hugged him tightly as a feeling of desperation rose in her. For now he was hers, completely hers. She clung to him before letting go and slowly disrobing. The wisp of black silk floated down her body, touching her where she needed his hands to be.

"You wear it well," he said with approval. "So well I don't think you should put it on except when I'm the only one around."

"You're not afraid I'll wear it to church tomorrow for your Christmas sermon? You know me, Ms. Jezebel."

"And Mr. Holier-Than-Thou knows better now that the evidence is in..." His emphasis on
evidence
made her stiffen. "The lady in red's closer to an angel in white."

"I'll change before the kids wake up," she said, feeling uneasy. "This can be our little secret."

"Secrets," he mused. Matthew tapped a finger to his lips. "I like sharing secrets with you. Saying things in private that no one else knows. It's... intimate. Something between the two of us that's built on trust. And you can trust me, Dee. I would never betray you, don't you know?"

"Sometimes, Matt, your support seems like the one constant in my life. You've earned my trust."

But she hadn't earned his, her conscience taunted. She had deceived him from the beginning. Even as their bodies had joined, she'd deceived him. Matthew deserved only honesty, and she'd given him precious little of it. If she could ever give him the whole truth, would he love her as much? Would he be able trust her then?

"You look sad. Can you tell me why, or is that a secret you're not willing to share?"

"I'm sad because you have to go home tonight while I sleep alone in my bed. Keeping up appearances—bah, humbug." Dee forced a bright smile and reached for a package. "I have a gift for you, but I'm afraid it's not nearly as extravagant as the one you gave me."

Matthew shook the box and made several outlandish guesses as to its contents. It turned out to be a pair of slippers.

"They're me. Definitely me." He wriggled his toes while Dee slipped them on his feet.

"I wish I could have afforded more," she confessed. "Unfortunately, my budget was a little tight this year."

"What you gave me tonight was the most precious gift a woman can give to a man." Dee's gaze flew to his, and her heart began to beat too fast. Gently he touched his hand to her cheek. "You said that you loved me, and, beloved, that means more to me than any store-bought present."

He stroked her hair before pulling her onto his lap and hugging her. "And besides, how did you know I always wanted slippers that look like fluffy teddy bear feet?
Raaarh."
Matt feasted on her neck, then reached for the coat he'd tossed on the floor.

Why did the lining appear damp? Surely what snow they'd gotten on it should have dried by now. When he stroked it, a sudden tension seemed to fill the room and a buzz sounded in her head. Then he smiled and withdrew a small, fancy wrapped package from a pocket.

Air returned to her lungs. Dee could almost forget the strange moment when she opened a black velvet jeweler's box and touched the slender gold chain.

"An ankle bracelet?"

Matthew nodded. "I also looked at rings while I was at the boutique."

She knew better than to ask what kind but couldn't resist. "Dinner rings?"

"No. Two gold rings. His and hers with diamonds forming crosses. Stand up for me."

She followed his command. Wedging her foot between the tops of his thighs, he fastened the chain, then tumbled her back onto the bed.

"Don't move," he said firmly before slipping free from her arms and going out the door. When he returned, he clicked the lock and knelt beside her, holding a bright red plastic ice tray in his hands.

"I saved the best present for last. I put it in your freezer when I came by to pick you guys up for the caroling. They're not quite frozen, but they are awfully cute. Little Santa Claus-shaped cubes." He placed one in his mouth, then fed it to her. "Merry Christmas, Mrs. Claus, from the mister."

She groaned. "For a minister you certainly have an innovative approach to satisfying your libido. Did they teach you sensual torture in the seminary?"

He didn't smile at her jest. She wasn't sure if he'd even heard her. He seemed distant. Was he thinking, praying... plotting?

Without warning, Matt crouched between her legs.

"Open them," he whispered. "Yes, yes... like that." The gentle probing of his fingertip created another kind of anxiety. "Tender?" he asked in a soft, caring voice.

"Yes—no. Matthew, quit looking at me there."

"I've looked at you there before, though maybe you were beyond caring. Don't be self-conscious with me now. We have been as close as two people can get. Almost, anyway. I understand sharing the birth of a baby is the ultimate in intimacy. Considering how small you turned out to be, I can't help but wonder if you had a hard time delivering?"

Dee's breath caught when he stroked her once with a cube, then flicked the heat of his tongue against the same spot.

"N-no," she stammered. "Not too—too hard."

"Then easy labors. Easy enough that you hardly knew you'd had them?"

"I... why do you want to know?"

"Because I want to share what I missed. I want to share everything with you. Past. Present. Future." He swiped the cube against her once more. "Does that feel good? Make you a little less sore after the most memorable night of your life? By the way, I've never had one that could compare either. You more than exceeded my expectations."

The inflection of his tone was alarming. Dee sat up and pushed at his shoulders.

"I'm not sore anymore, so you can stop."

"If you say so. I only wanted to make the hurt go away." He stroked her cheek with a wet fingertip. "I want to make all your hurts go away. But I can't do that unless you tell me what they are."

She shut her eyes tightly so she wouldn't have to endure his searching gaze. What could she tell him? That she was wanted for kidnapping? Then what? Ask him to make a plea-bargain with heaven or maybe find out if he knew a crackerjack lawyer who could do battle with Nick and the judges Vince had in his pocket? Could the good minister see about getting Alexis raised from the dead so she could point a bony linger at her murdering husband and get Dee off the hook?

Right, Dee, tell him where it hurts. Tell him so he can be as deep in this horrible thing as you are. Maybe he'll even insist on going to the authorities for protection when you found out the hard way how crooked some of them operate.

"It hurts where you had me," she said, desperate for him to drive it all away. "I'm hurting for wanting you back, Matthew." She tried to smile, but failed. "You know how I get when you bring out the ice."

For a minute he said nothing. "Okay, Dee." His sigh was filled with resignation. "If that's the way you want it." Before she could gather her wits he stood beside the bed and stripped off his clothes. "Take a long look and tell me if I measure up to the other men you've seen. And, in this case, feel free to be honest."

Dee's throat went dry. He towered over her, lean but muscled, appearing larger than life.

"You're beautiful, Matthew. No one could be more beautiful than you."

"My body's not perfect, but I'm glad it pleases you. Care to see the other tattoo?" He pivoted, revealing a behind that had a pitchfork on one firm mound and a halo on the other.

When he turned back, his face was set in somber lines. "Now we have another little secret, Dee. At the rate we're going, we won't have many left, except any you decide to keep from me. If you're through looking, I'll see what I can do to make at least one hurt go away."

He didn't wait for her answer before returning to the bed. When she reached for the light, he caught her hand.

"Leave it on. No telling what we missed when we made love in the dark."

He laid her down, settling his body on top of hers. "And this time we'll do it right. We'll make it last. Long and greedy and anything but sweet. I'm ready to make up for lost time."

"But—but what if I get pregnant?"

"You love Vince's children, and so do I. Could you actually hate my child and love his?"

"Hate your child?
Our
child? How could you even think such a thing, Matthew?" He had her so off balance with the unexpected turns in his conversation and the aggressiveness of his sensuality. But when his tender, biting kisses began and he rubbed his groin against hers, she could only beg for more than his fleet, cunning fingers.

His penetration was a claiming thrust that left her breathless, and she knew she could never have enough of him. She started to arch her back to pull him in deeper inside her, but he held her still.

"Don't move. Let me feel you a little longer, give you more than I did before. Cheating us like that—I hated it. Especially since it was your first time."

"My first time?" she repeated in a faint voice.

He hesitated, then answered, "With me. Our first time together. There was a lot I wanted to say that didn't get said. Such as how much your sharing yourself intimately meant to me. I want to be sure you realize that sex with this minister is serious business. It's binding."

"How binding?"

"Binding as a contract. More unbreakable than any law."

Contract—there was likely one on her life. Law— she was legally on the wrong side of it. Had he deliberately chosen those terms to test her? But now he was testing her body, retreating, then thrusting.

"That's why if you ever tried to run away from me, I'd find you, Dee. God is my witness." He ate her lips, then kissed her. Hard. It tasted distinctly of warning. "Never run from me, understand? Run
to
me. I want to take care of you, but you have to let me in."

As if seeking to drive out the dark shadows of her past, he possessed her with a sudden rapid thrust, then another and another, each gaining force until she thought he might break her.

And then he did. He broke her with promises of faith and trust and love between hot murmurings of lust. He made her say again and again that she loved him more than any other and with each repetition he insisted she prove it with the relinquishing of her soul, her body, into his keep.

He kept them well, moving her however he liked, telling her to taste and touch him, and murmuring his satisfaction. When he said it was so very right that a woman should know her mate completely and feel the power her touch held over him, she felt unspeakable pleasure and blinding joy. Each touch, each kiss, was a vow, he continued, binding vows that could never be broken. Then he was demanding that she come, yes, come, Dee, to him, only to him. She did, again and again, while he refused himself the same release.

"No more," she whimpered weakly. She couldn't think, couldn't even lift an arm. "Matthew, no more."

"Yes, more. Roll over, wife."

Wife?
He must have said
night,
she decided, dazed.

"Can't move? Let me help." He gently turned her onto her stomach.

Cool air brushed over her fevered, damp skin. Then he was kissing her back, his lips tracing her spine and lulling her exhausted body into the sweetest oblivion. She was almost asleep when he tucked her in.

"Still with me?" he whispered. She mumbled a groggy assent. "Good, because I've got something to say that you need to remember. I've been patient, but my patience goes only so far." He stroked the tangled hair from her face and pressed a tender kiss to her temple. "Sleep on that, Dee. But don't take too long to wake up to the kind of man you're in so deep with, you'd never get away from him."