Christmas Eve (25 page)

Collecting her thoughts along with her resolve, she fitted her untouched drink into the holder beside her seat. "You're partly right. My defenses were down. Ending a long time relationship does that to me. The unexpected fantasy you offered: spending the night in an isolated cabin with a man apparently interested in me while snow fell outside and no one the wiser is every woman's fantasy. I couldn't resist."

She ran her fingertips across the back of his hand. "I'm not usually so free spirited and need to apologize for my unrestrained behavior, but you were partly to blame. I'd hoped to forget my troubles for a little while, forget the holidays, and before I knew what was happening, your arms were around me on the dance floor. The rest is history. Like so many other women, I imagine, I let Nick St. Clair seduce me on Christmas Eve."

As she spoke, one of Nick's skilled hands caressed her bare shoulder and she could no longer speak. Wherever his fingers touched her, her skin heated. Then his warm lips replaced his fingertips.

Eve leaned back into his embrace. Closed her eyes, shutting out everything but the tender brush of his lips. She wanted this. Oh, how she wanted this.

Nick's hand slid down her arm, inch by devastating inch, and her skin sang from his touch while he rained kisses up the slender column of her neck, not stopping until he reached her bare ear and his tongue delved inside.

You don't need a bed to make love
.
End this before your resolve weakens
.

Needing to feel his mouth on hers, Eve turned in Nick's arms. She rested one hand on his shoulder, nestled the other in the warm recesses of Nick's tux jacket where she felt his muscles ripple as he pulled her close. Her breasts flattened against his broad chest.

His heated flesh felt as welcome as a glowing fire on a cold day. With her fingers, she smoothed the folds of his crisp white shirt, traced the ridged muscles along his spine, memorizing his body, making him hers for all time.
For the last time.

His muscles flexed again as Nick cupped her chin. "Eve?"

"Just hold me."

He lifted her onto his lap and held her close.

Caught in the snarl of traffic, the limo slowed, then stopped.

With one hand still at her waist, caressing her like a fragile porcelain doll, Nick's other hand skimmed over the exposed skin of her bare back. Up her spine. Under the curls covering her ear, then down, down, down.

Turning slightly, he dimmed the fairy lights.

She was not surprised when his long fingers delved inside the low cut back of her gown. Even so, her breathing momentarily halted. His hand slid to her waist and curled over her bottom, heating the yielding flesh beneath. Her breath escaped on a soft sigh as Nick's cupped hand caressed the roundness.

And stilled.

"Eve?" he whispered in her ear, then drew back to gaze wonderingly into her eyes. "I can't feel your panties."

Like a spider luring its prey into its silken trap, she smiled at him. "I know."

Nick tore off his jacket, peeled her out of her dress, then reached for his zipper. "Temptation, thy name is Eve," he murmured as she wiggled out of her shoes. In her hurry to spread her cape for their comfort, she forced Nick to take the seat facing them while he removed his shoes and pants.

Now wantonly nude except for her thigh-high stockings, Eve stretched out on the lining of her cape, relishing the erotic touch of fur caressing her skin. She offered a silent prayer for Nick's driver. Wouldn't do for him to get into a fender bender now.

She hadn't planned for their final love-making to take place in the back seat of a limo but, at Nick's first tender touch, had discovered she couldn't bear to wait.

For a moment he loomed above her. Then, his penis hot and throbbing, he nudged her thighs apart and lifted her hips, seating himself deep within her with his first thrust, reaffirming in her mind his expertise.

Eve gasped, feeling decidedly wicked, remarkably filled, and so incredibly ready to meet his lusty invasion that she could not refrain from meeting his next thrust.

Nick buried himself in her pussy like a second heart beating there.

As her first contraction took control with unbelievable strength she whispered, "Oh God, oh God, oh God," and grabbed Nick's shoulders. She fastened her mouth to his, and clung tight, her legs locked around his back.

Then wave after wave of pure pleasure began breaking over her. Carried along on the crest of a passion-filled wave, nothing else mattered for the moment but Nick and the way he made her feel.

Not until later, after his seed had warmed her and they'd moved apart to get dressed because the limo had begun to move, did she let herself think about how difficult it would be to just walk away. Foolish though she knew it was, a small part of her still wanted Nick in her life.

No
. Not just a part. Every nerve she possessed wept with need at the thought of sacrificing this unbelievable pleasure to save her pride.

She
must
. Some things simply were not meant to be.

Nick loaned her his handkerchief and helped her dress, then again donned his tux.

Eve smoothed her hand down her skirt, patted her hair.

"Don't worry, you look great," he said, straightening his bow tie. "You looked so good, standing by that damned piano earlier, I couldn't find the words to tell you how lovely you are."

Nick chuckled. "Now that I think about it, you set me up, didn't you?" He chuckled again. "It worked. For a moment at your house, my legs wouldn't work right."

"Good." She'd planned it that way. Truth be told, had set him up for a downfall from the moment he first called.

His thumb drew tiny circles in the palm of the hand he held. It took all her willpower not to lean toward him.

Was she strong enough to see her plan through? Eve straightened her spine, hoping to strengthen her resolve.

The limo turned down a street she was unfamiliar with. A block away she could see the bright glow of the Strip, and laser beams piercing the sky. "Are we there?"

"Yes, just pulling up to the back door," Nick said with a grin she couldn't decipher. "I'm sorry. This is the closest the driver can get."

It appeared Nick was a ready source of firsts. Although she'd never entered a restaurant though the rear door, it stood to reason every fine business establishment had one. For deliveries, if nothing else.

The driver stopped the limo beside a well-lighted dock and hurried around the low-slung vehicle to help her out.

Eve stepped out, her wobbly legs a shaky reminder of the mind-numbing sex she and Nick had just shared. Not that she needed reminding. Every nerve ending in her body still throbbed.

With a knowing grin, Nick settled her cape on her shoulders and held her elbow while he guided her to a windowless door. She accepted his firm support with a grateful smile.

To her surprise, they entered the building through the kitchen, where men in white chef's hats and uniforms scurried from stove to counter and back in response to the hum of hurried commands.

Eve stared in fascination. She'd never felt so overdressed and out of place in her life.

"Good evening, Mr. St. Clair. Are you ready to dine?" asked the man who appeared to be in charge.

"Not yet, André," Nick replied. "At nine. May I present Miss Adohr?"

"Good evening." She smiled.

"A pleasure." The head chef responded with a nod so close to a bow that Eve grinned. He treated the two of them like royalty, even kissed the hand she'd expected him to shake.

"If you'll excuse us?" Nick led her out through a pair of swinging doors and into a bustling restaurant.

The maître d' rushed up. "Ah, Mr. St. Clair. Happy New Year."

"You, too, Pierre." Nick nodded toward the filled room. "From the looks of the crowd, it may very well be."

Every table in the posh dining room was filled. Had Nick made a reservation? Would they have to wait in that line forming just inside those double doors?

Lovely doors. Teak, with thick mauve panes of etched glass.

Nick's lovemaking had left her so sated she would skip the promised meal with him if it meant waiting in that line. Maybe she should just make her get-out-of-my-life speech right here and call it a night. Nick had already fulfilled her heart's desire for this evening. Great sex. One last time.

He removed her cape, carefully arranged it over his arm, then took her elbow and ushered her through the crowd, looking amused by the puzzled glance she directed at him. "I have a more private place in mind for us to dine."

They passed through an elegantly appointed casino where men in evening clothes parlayed high stakes in hopes of big winnings while their companions, wearing designer gowns and a small fortune in diamonds, looked on. Nick greeted the croupier at a baccarat table and surprised Eve by greeting each of the gamblers at another by name.

Then he led her toward a bank of elevators in the main lobby of the hotel where more well dressed couples chatted in small groups. The sequined and beaded dresses of the women came alive beneath the thousands of lights making the crystal chandeliers glitter overhead.

Any other time she would have enjoyed the impromptu fashion show, but revelers near them on a first name basis with Nick distracted her.

Then, just as the Red Sea had done for Moses, the crowd parted so she and Nick could pass through.

What is going on?

She felt good on his arm, the breadth of his shoulders diminishing the width of hers
,
and she smiled confidently at the revelers she passed
.

As they approached an elevator set slightly apart from the rest, a bellhop raced to Nick's side.

"Allow me," the harried young man said and opened the elevator door with the electronic key Nick provided him.

"Thank you, Rex." Nick escorted Eve inside.

The door quietly slid shut, leaving her with a million unanswered questions.

"What's going on, Nick?"

"What do you mean?" A grin threatening to break free despite his tightly held control as the elevator began to rise.

"Where are you taking me? And why does everyone here seem to know you?"

"I'm taking you up to the penthouse. I hope you don't mind. It's much... quieter there, and we can... talk without being overheard."

The elevator doors sighed open and Eve stepped out into a parquet-floored entrance hall.

"Nick?"

"It's all right, Eve. I live here. This is my hotel."

Of course. Nick's perfect manners. A concierge. But the penthouse?

Highly unlikely that a concierge occupies the penthouse
.

Nick must have borrowed this place for the night.

He held the door for her to enter a room of impressive dimensions. A collection of framed photographs decorated the walls, most of them rendered in stark black and white. Even from a distance, Eve recognized a Minor White, an Edward Weston and the lone image in color, a Suda House.

Artfully posed sculptures displayed on marble columns of varying heights accented the decor. Drawn by the attractive display, Eve strolled the length of one long wall for a closer look. She knew without asking that Nick had selected the art.

"Make yourself at home while I open the champagne—" Halting mid step, he chuckled. "I don't believe I allowed time for you to even taste the glass I poured for you in the limousine."

Eve felt a blush begin. "Oh. Right."

On the far wall, shelves behind glass doors housed the most extensive collection of jazz she'd ever seen. Original soundtracks. LP's and 78's, even 45's by the big name bands, each carefully shelved by performer and type.

Perusing the labels, Eve thought of her grandmother. She'd loved ragtime and would have been thrilled to get her hands on just one of these old recordings for an afternoon.

Saddened by the thought, Eve turned away. Her grandparents tapped their feet to jazz played in heaven, now.

"Find something you like?"

She accepted a chilled glass from Nick. "Some of those older recordings bring back memories."

He set down his glass. "Stick around," he said in a voice so low it wrapped her in a blanket of need, "and I'll see if I can find something lively to chase that sadness from those beautiful eyes."

Uh uh.
She wouldn't stay here long enough for that. It would take every ounce of her courage to say "no" to this man. She was convinced of that, now that she'd seen him again. Like a powerful magnet, Nick's presence tugged at her heart.

She took a sip of champagne. The crisp bite of Dom Perignon went right to her head, numbing her to everything but Nick. He hovered above her, strong and imposing, his dark eyes like twin fires. From the look in those eyes now, he was going to kiss her.

She felt a flicker of doubt, then fear as his lips descended to hers. With the first touch of his soft lips, those doubts and fears all vanished. Hope flooded in to take their place.

No
! Ending the kiss, she backed away.

"Have you lived here long?" she asked, buying time as she tried desperately to slow the beat of her heart.

Nick's knowing smile set it tripping again. "Long enough. Though recently, I've been thinking about buying a house. Maybe you would help me look?"

"I... sure."

Damn
. Promising to see more of Nick?
Not a
good idea. Why had she so readily agreed?

Oh, well. Later tonight, when she broke with him, she could renege on that promise, too.

Her scattered thoughts had caused their conversation to lag. "What kind of house do you have in mind?"

Nick emptied his glass and set it down. "Something on the order of yours, I think. And in a similar area, a place more suitable than a hotel for raising kids."

Thanks to
her
sterile upbringing, she could see the wisdom in that. Nick studied her with warm blue eyes. "I didn't realize you wanted children. When I first accepted my inheritance from my grandparents, I had dreams of..."

She couldn't prevent the longing from creeping into her voice and her words slowed. She'd given up the hope of having children, at the same time she gave up the hope of ever finding love. "... Pops wanted a large family, but my mother turned out to be his only child."