Christmas Eve (2 page)

A soft-looking, hooded leather coat covered her to her ankles. What lay beneath all those layers?

To his surprise, the unknown whetted his appetite. "Here, let me help you out of that coat."

"No."

No
? Her response drew Nick up short.

"That won't be necessary," she said, her sexy eyes wide. "I'll just keep it on, since I'm hoping we'll be going right back out."

Out
? Was this some sort of sex game played to excite him?

"Problem is..." She paused, smiling up at him, even daring to bat her eyes.

Unusual eyes, those. Emeralds, flecked with gold, and about all Nick could see of his date at the moment. He found the situation so damned erotic he began to sweat.

"... my car slid in the ditch next door," she added, drawing his thoughts from what treasures her long coat might hide. "I wouldn't bother you, but this mountain seems to be out of my cell phone's service area and I wondered if I might use your phone to call for a tow."

The dimple nestled in the satiny cheek nearest Nick flirted with him as she spoke.
Intriguing. Might as well play along
. "Sure."

He left her by the phone and checked on their dinner, a meal the casino caterer had delivered earlier, along with enough other prepared meals to keep the two of them well fed for a week. Nick had earned this vacation and he planned to live it up if things worked out with...

Hell
. He didn't even know her name. He did know that within his pants, his old pal Croupier, the name that in his teens he'd fondly given his cock, was fully cognizant of the lady's arrival, and as erect as an Atlas missile. All fueled up and ready to blast off, without Nick even stripping that long coat off his date.

From the kitchen, he could hear the lady's murmured phone conversation. She'd even gone through the motions of calling for help.

Good act. He couldn't wait to find out what else she might have up her sleeve. Creativity, in and out of the bedroom, heightened the fun.

She had the good sense to hang up the phone when he returned, but her dejected expression didn't bode well for the heightened fun idea.

Not anxious to hear more excuses, Nick paused at the hearth and added another log to the fire. Before long, he'd strip off all her fashionable clothes and wanted the room comfortably warm.

He glanced back over his shoulder, caught the lady worrying her lower lip between her teeth.

She looked vulnerable. And good enough to eat.

"More problems?" He brushed off his hands and turned around.

"No. Well, y-yes. Thanks to the weather and the busy holiday season, the Highway Patrol has ordered all available tow trucks to patrol the freeway and keep traffic moving for the next forty-eight hours. The station that provides towing for my roadside assistance plan is too busy keeping the highways clear and can't promise to get anyone up here until day after tomorrow."

Her faint shrug was worthy of an academy award, but she looked believably distraught. And unbearably attractive, in a mysterious way. Good actresses were always great in bed.

"And?"

"I was hoping you might help."

Man, oh, man
. The light of pretended innocence in her pleading gaze shoved his heart rate into double time. He couldn't wait to hear what she'd suggest next. Swallowing, he repeated, "Help?"

"As in... give me a push? I'll be stuck up here in my car for two whole days if you don't."

Tiresome game. Time to bring it to a halt, but his companion deserved an A-plus for the acting job.

Nick took a step closer. Awareness flickered in her expressive eyes. Good sign. He lifted his hand and gently brushed the snow from her bangs. The hood of her coat slid off.

Hmmm. Shiny reddish-brown hair. Nice.

"Give you a push?" he murmured.

She nodded. The movement loosened the gold scarf around her neck and revealed more of her hair. Her hand floated down to the buttons fastening her coat.

"As in use my hands and get all dirty?"

He trailed his fingertips along her cheekbone, felt her tremble at his touch. Responsive in bed, too, he'd bet.

"Now why would a smart man like me want to go back out in the cold on a blustery night like this?"

Eyes round, she fumbled with a button. "Because you're a... gentleman?"

Nick scoffed. "I've been called worse." He let the suggestive words hang in the air for a beat. "But
never
that. Nick St. Clair." He anointed her with a smile. His off-hand introduction must have surprised her. Her eyelids fluttered. Once. Twice.

"Eve. Eve Adohr," she breathlessly whispered, causing a curl of warmth in his stomach.

He really
was
in need of getting laid.

The lady staring up at him had her innocent act down pat. She looked threatened, like a doe ready to bolt.

An experienced seducer, Nick took another slow step in her direction, his gaze locked with hers.

Chapter Two

Eve took a quick step back, thought better of it and planted her feet firmly on the floor, determined to stand her ground and converse with Nick like any sane woman would. Problem was, she felt anything but sane looking into Nick St. Clair's startlingly blue eyes.

Set deep in his head beneath brown, bushy eyebrows, the devouring look he was giving her with those eyes set her on edge. She couldn't decide whether to run for her life or waltz right into his arms. Get on with what was bound to happen if she and Nick shared the same room for an extended period of time.

Eve gave herself a mental shake. What had come over her? She'd never reacted this strongly to any man. But then, Nick wasn't just any man. No, he was a cut above. Self-assured. At ease in his own skin.

Nice skin. Tanned. Muscular, too, from what she could see, and the part she couldn't see left her breathless with wonder.

Just relax and see what happens next
.

Easier said than done.

She gave him a faint smile and, tasting victory, Nick inched forward with a predatory smile of his own.

Eve's chin came up.

"I could really use your help with my car," she pleaded, batting her eyes at him a second time.

* * * * *

Back to that again. The lady is determined to play her ro
le.

"Why don't we stay right here where it's warm, instead?" Nick murmured, holding her gaze.

He moved quickly, not wanting her to realize what he was up to until he'd slipped her coat off her shoulders and hung it on the coat rack beside the door.

Finished with that easier-than-he'd-expected chore, he turned around. And grinned.

Charming.
Eve delighted him. Not at all what you'd expect a working girl would wear to meet a man she'd vowed to please. Especially during the most profitable season of the year for girls in the trade, but charming, just the same.

Dressed in a snug gold turtleneck and long skirt the color of pine, she looked like an expensive present waiting to be unwrapped.

Nick considered himself the perfect man for the job. He itched to dip his fingers under that thick roll of ribbing at her neck. Feel her warmth. Lick the smooth skin underneath and taste his enticing gift.

One hesitant hand lifted slowly from her side and touched her hair. Tempting? He had that right.

His pulse raced. The toes of brown leather boots peeped out from beneath her skirt. Later, those stiletto heels would show off her lush calves and thighs par excellence as she paraded around for him in this very room, nude, except for her boots.

Eve's outfit suited to perfection the role she'd cast for herself, innocent maiden in distress. What role did she have in mind for him? Spider Man to the rescue? He preferred Tom Cruise. Or Mel. Nick smoothed back his hair. The sudden surge of blood in his veins had him wondering if he should limit his intake of alcohol for a while.

How would Gibson respond to Eve?

No. This scenario was too tame for Mel. No escaped criminals in sight intent on revenge, no bloody Highlanders on the horizon. Just a sensual seductress pretending her car had slid in some ditch. No need to call in the heavy hitters. He could handle the lady's distress.

But how? Nick crossed his arms and rocked back on his heels, leaning against the door jamb to think this through.

Play it by ear? In the last drama class he'd attended, he'd become skilled at improvisation. A few of those skills were still available to him. Might as well participate in her game. But only for a little while.

"Tell you what," he murmured in his most seductive voice. "Why don't I move this chair closer to the fire? Give you time to warm your toes" — and other parts — "while I fix us a drink. Then we'll talk about pushing your car out of that ditch. You certain we can manage it without help?"

Eve eyed him warily. Then with a slow smile and a twinkle in her eyes, she crossed her arms beneath her breasts and rocked back on her booted heels, unaware she was imitating his exact stance. One hip jutted out a little, the tips of her plump breasts even more. Nick considered taking her in his arms that instant and carrying her off to bed.

Later.
All in good time.

"I can't do it alone," she said, shattering his fantasy, "but I believe the two of us can."

Yeah. Right.

Not exactly the way he'd planned to spend the evening but then, he'd heard mud wrestling turned some men on.

Taking Eve's hand in his, he helped her into the chair he'd pulled up to the fire. Her smooth skin felt like ice. "The two of us," he murmured, suddenly taking a liking to the game.

Eve tugged her hand from his grasp, then held her hands, palms out, toward the warmth.

Her delicate fingers tapered to smooth ovals, their painted tips the same sexy shade the woman in his last wet dream wore.

This one had neatly swept her hair up on top of her head, but he wanted those long tresses loose. Brushing her shoulders. Brushing
him.
And soon.

Count on it.
Her hair would be down before much more time had passed. He couldn't wait to thread his fingers through that thick mass and listen to Eve moan.

"I'll heat some brandy," he said, his voice tight. "That should warm you."

* * * * *

Eve allowed her curious gaze to follow Nick's departure.

Nice buns. Sinful in silk
.

A pity to force her thoughtful host to get dressed again and go out into the snow.

He looked back at her and smiled.

Polite. Elegant. And far too smooth. She knew the type. Too much like Jeffrey. And look where that affair had led.

Eve turned her attention to her surroundings instead.

With her buff host no longer holding court by the fire, the room seemed bigger. This structure was much larger than the one next door, more like a home than a weekend retreat.

The furnishings suited Nick. Sturdy leather and oak, each piece well built. Straight lines. A little more masculine than she'd prefer. Like Nick.

He swaggered back through the door, two partially filled brandy snifters in his hands. Far too gorgeous for her to relax in his company. Her childhood dream of marrying a doctor or a fireman epitomized in this living, breathing man crossing the room with a self-assured, killer smile.

Get real. The man's just being nice
.

He struck a match to a votive candle. Slid one snifter of golden liquid into the angled holder above the flame. "This won't take but a moment. Just long enough for you to ponder how smooth this will taste going down," he said, his voice more than likely as mellow as the brandy heating in that glass.

"I've never tasted warmed brandy." The oppressive silence of the cabin and the smiling man mesmerized her.

"You're in for a treat." After a moment, Nick blew out the flame and removed the glass.

As he walked quickly toward her, Eve's heart leaped. The tailored shoulders of his elegant robe rippled as he moved. Abs to die for, from the looks of his trim waist. She had a weakness for muscles. Especially there.

He stopped in front of her. She felt as if her heart had stopped beating, too. Was this how Ingrid Bergman felt in
Casablanca
when she looked into Rick's eyes?

"Drink up." With another killer smile Nick wrapped her fingers around the warm glass.

He had the hands of an artist: long, slim fingers that made her wonder what he did for a living.

The heat from his fingers, not the glass, began to curl her toes. "Aren't you—"

"You first. I'll watch." His soft words wrapped around her snugly, just as his fingers had moments before, warming places she hadn't realized were cold.

Still mesmerized, Eve lifted the snifter to her lips, sipped, then swallowed.

The fires of Hell flamed in her stomach.

* * * * *

Eve sputtered. Coughed. Nick watched her topaz eyes brim, then overflow.

This scene was not part of an act. Didn't the sophisticated-appearing call girl know to sip good brandy?

Eve set the glass down on the table, then lifted her hand to brush a tear from her eye.

"Let me do that," Nick whispered, touched. Kneeling beside her, he wiped the tiny drop of moisture from her cheek with his thumb. Unblinking, Eve stared at him as if mesmerized as he sucked her tear into his mouth.

Salty-sweet. He wasn't a man usually moved by tears.

Eve shivered.

"Still cold?" He reached for her chin and tilted back her head.

Eyes rounded, she stared back at him. Then, her lips curved, forming a trembling smile. "No, I'm f-fine."

He fitted his lips to hers.

Better than fine
.
Eve's tasted like apricots warmed in the sun. Full-bodied and tempting. A feast just waiting for him to devour.

A sudden, strong rush of desire heated Nick's blood and a soft sigh parted her lips, causing Croupier to throb.

All in good time, my man. You’ll have to wait
.

Nick deepened the kiss.

Eve played her part well. He'd give her that. And a sizeable tip when her time with him came to an end. By then, she would have earned her steep fee. Maybe even more.