The Kid Who Stole Christmas (16 page)

“I don’t know about your dream,” she said, her sultry voice hoarse with desire. “But mine didn’t stop here.”

“Mine didn’t stop at all.”

“Don’t tell me.” Shannon lay back on the couch and beckoned to him. “Show me.”

Rick was more than happy to oblige. He stretched out beside her and rediscovered the depths of her sensuous mouth all over again, until she was gasping for breath. Then he left a trail of kisses across her cheek, down her throat, and into the valley formed between her breasts at the neck of her sweater. When that was not enough, he helped her remove it, removing his shirt at the same time, and they pressed their bodies together, reveling in the shared heat.

At last, Rick could stand no more, and slipped lower to bury his face in the twin pillows of her breasts. They were highly sensitive, and the large, rose-colored areolae responded instantly to the delicate touch of his tongue, turning hard as cherry stones as he tasted each one in turn.

Shannon gasped as he moved lower still, drawing a line with his artful tongue from beneath her breasts down over the delicate curve of her stomach. He paused momentarily at the waistband of her leggings, kissed her belly, then raised himself and removed them in one smooth motion.

For a moment, Shannon felt shy again, and couldn’t meet his gaze. She looked at the fire instead, glad its glow hid the blush she could feel warming her already heated skin. But then she realized he was settling down beside her, and that he had removed the rest of his clothing, as well. Her eyes roved over him, widening at the strong, hard muscles she had only surmised were there before.

His arms were thick, their muscles sharply defined, and his chest broad and well developed. It tapered to a slender waist, and the sort of taut belly that her former husband had left behind almost from the day they were married. His legs showed the same kind of development, the kind that came from hours of hard labor, and not in the luxury of a fancy gym with mirrors on the walls, either.

Shannon nipped delicately at the taut skin of his male nipples, enjoying the way her touch made his marvelous stomach muscles tighten. She meandered her way down to those muscles along a path that crossed the peaks and valleys of his body. After pausing for a moment to savor his firm belly, she glanced up at him, grinning at the look of anticipation she saw in his smoldering brown eyes.

Rick moaned with pleasure as her mouth surrounded him. Shannon moaned, too, for the sheer pleasure of fulfilling his carnal needs. She ran her hand along his spine, then clasped his taut buttocks, marveling at his splendid conditioning.

“Is this anything like your dream?” Shannon asked, retracing her steps up to his throat, where she nuzzled her face against him before gazing into his eyes.

“
You’re
a dream,” he muttered, then pulled her down against him once again.

Shannon could feel his manhood throbbing against her, the beat of his heart matching her own. She had no idea where his dream went from there, but she knew where hers had gone, and she knew what she wanted.

Rick certainly did not object as she placed her hands on his broad chest and straddled him, the silky skin of her thighs against his hips making him gasp. In the light of the fire, her eyes glimmered, and her hair was like a fiery aura surrounding her face.

As she lowered herself slowly upon him, Shannon closed her eyes and uttered a low, wanton moan of satisfaction. When he filled her to the very core, she stopped, and her eyes fluttered open. She looked at him and licked her parched lips.

“Is this a dream?” she asked in a sensual whisper.

Rick ran his hands up along her perspiration-slick sides and cupped her swollen breasts. “It must be. Reality never felt this good, at least not for me.”

“Nor me.” Shannon started to move her hips. “If it is a dream, don’t wake me.”

Rick could only moan and shake his head. She was a strong woman, with powerful muscles of her own and an even more powerful need. It had been a very long time for both of them, and they abandoned themselves completely to the ecstasy of sheer physical contact. Their only conscious thought was that this had been inevitable from the moment their eyes had first met. It seemed like destiny, and that made it all the sweeter.

Shannon’s climax came so quickly, it surprised them both, and the ferocity of it carried Rick over the edge into his own. Wave after wave of release poured over their intertwined bodies until they lay together on the couch in a damp, panting heap. When they had sufficiently recovered, they looked at each other and laughed.

“That’s not how my dream ended,” Rick said.

Shannon snuggled against him, still chuckling. She drew lazy circles on his chest with her fingertip. “No?” she asked.

Rick shook his head. “No. Shall I show you?”

Rick’s dream hadn’t taken place in front of a fireplace, but he made do quite nicely. Shannon wasn’t sure about her own response rate at first, but as he lowered himself atop her, those doubts disappeared. He slipped within her, and the power of his deep, rhythmic thrusts soon had her writhing beneath him in pleasure. This time, it was a much slower climb to the apex of their desires, but the passionate effort was more than repaid in intensity.

Afterward, they lay facing the fire, nested like spoons in a drawer, with Shannon in front and Rick behind, his arm wrapped protectively over her.

“I think we scared the cats that time,” she said softly.

“That’s what they get for watching.”

“True.” Shannon was quiet for a moment, listening to the hiss of the fire and feeling the steady pressure of Rick’s chest against her back as he breathed. “Rick?”

“Yes, Shannon.”

“I didn’t mention this before, and I suppose it’s a bit late to do so now, but I never intended for you to go home tonight.”

Rick kissed the nape of her neck. “Thanks for the invitation. But you couldn’t get rid of me now if you tried.”

“I won’t be trying anytime soon.” She sighed. “This has been a very nice day.”

“Well, it ended nicely, anyway,” Rick agreed.

“And tomorrow, we’ll find Leo.”

“I hope so, Shannon,” he said, glad that she couldn’t see the frown on his face. “I really do.”

Chapter Fourteen

“F
ace it, Nathan. I was right all along,” Angela told him over the phone in her very best I-told-you-so voice. “The three of them were never even here.”

“How can you tell?”

“Because it’s clean,” she replied. “It looks just the way the service left it after our Thanksgiving weekend.”

From where Angela stood using the phone near the massive stone fireplace, she could see almost the entire lodge, with its exposed-beam cathedral ceiling, sleeping loft and rustic knotty-pine-paneled walls. She abhorred the place, actually, and the whole après-ski atmosphere it exuded from every smoke-scented crevice. But it had its uses, she supposed.

Right now, it was giving her a much-needed break from Nathan and Chelsea. Seeing Rick had aroused her suspicions, as had the continued lack of a response when she dialed this number. But Nathan had business to attend to, so she had summoned the chauffeur and come up to the mountains to see for herself.

Crossed wires indeed! Double-cross was more like it. Was Rick behind all this? She couldn’t think of many other reasons he would show up in Denver now, after all these years, and looking much too self-assured for her liking.

He was up to something, she was sure. And what with Nathan whining about all the money he should be making on Arnies and Chelsea carrying on about seeing her father again, not to mention baby Todd, it had gotten too hard to think back in the city. A night away would do her good, even in these unrefined surroundings.

But she was beginning to wish the phone lines were still out. Nathan was unconvinced, thus giving him something else to whine about.

“So it’s clean,” he said. “So what? Maybe they just went to get something and will be right back. Did you think about that, Angela?”

“You think about it, idiot,” she returned sarcastically. “Do you suppose Joey, Irv and an eight-year-old boy could have spent a night and a day here without making a mess?”

“Maybe they cleaned up after themselves.”

Angela yawned. “I repeat, Nathan. Joey, Irv and an eight-year-old boy. Get the picture?”

“I suppose you’re right.” He cursed. “Where are they?”

“Somewhere
else,
dear. Because they made a deal with some
one
else. Maybe Rick. Or Lyon’s. I suppose it’s even within the realm of possibility that they dreamed up this scheme all by themselves. But they are most definitely not here.”

Nathan cursed again, loudly and at length. Angela held the receiver away from her ear until he calmed down. At last, he started speaking in a normal tone.

“What did you say?” she asked. “I didn’t catch that.”

“I said, have that little weirdo drive you back down here as quickly as possible,” Nathan returned. “I’m lonely.”

“Well, tough. It’s late, I’m tired and the roads are still icy in spots. Emilio and I are spending the night here,” Angela informed him tersely. That caused Nathan to mutter an even more politically incorrect term for the chauffeur. Angela just sighed. “Let’s not fight, Nathan. It’s no fun over the phone. I can’t see the blood vessels in your neck bulge this way.”

“That was cruel, Angela.”

“Good night, Nathan. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She hung up without waiting for him to reply. Then, as an afterthought, she took the phone off the hook, as well. That would really get Nathan’s goat.

There was a loud pop, and Angela turned toward the sound, her eyes dancing with anticipation. She accepted the glass of champagne Emilio offered her and took a delicate sip, then sank into the softness of the comfortable fireside couch. He sat down beside her with his own glass, and the rest of the bottle close at hand.

“You should have heard what Nathan called you,” she said.

Emilio shrugged his broad shoulders. Although he was shorter than Nathan, there was really nothing all that little about him. The son of a once-proud family that had fallen on hard times, he had the aristocratic bearing and an insider’s knowledge of the rich that had served him well in his chosen profession. His rough-and-tumble childhood had also given him a few useful tools, such as a way with cars, locks and the less savory members of society. In other words, he had once made his living as a thief. He also possessed a quick and very nasty temper.

Angela had met Emilio four years ago, when her breakup with Rick was well under way, and she had already begun dating Nathan. Luckily, she managed to convince him to hire Emilio as a bodyguard and chauffeur. Of course, it would never have happened except for another of the gorgeous, raven-haired young man’s talents—his tremendous acting ability.

“To me, Nathan is nothing but a joke. He calls me names, he thinks he is better than me and all the while I am making love to his wife.” Emilio finished his champagne, then poured more for them both. “It’s funny. But sometimes he also makes me mad.”

“I know. He makes me mad, too. Unfortunately, he pays the bills, so we’ll just have to put up with him. For now,” she added thoughtfully. “Tomorrow, I think we may try to find a way to get those spiders for ourselves.”

“How?”

She grinned wickedly. “I think we’ll start by asking Rick.”

“Ah! So that’s why you asked me to have him watched,” Emilio said, his dark eyes flashing. Their glasses clinked in a toast. “To our future.”

* * *

“T
HAT’LL BE
fifteen hundred dollars.”

“What? You’re crazy!” Joey cried.

Leo shook his head. “Park Place with a hotel, fifteen hundred simoleons. Fork it over.”

“Leo’s right, Joey,” Irv confirmed. “He’s really good at this, huh?”

“Yeah,” Joey muttered. “Kid’s going to be a real tycoon someday.” He continued to grumble, but peeled off the money from his dwindling stack and handed it to Leo. “There you go, Leo, and I hope you choke.”

Leo just laughed. He liked Joey. Even though he said stuff like that a lot, he was a nice man. Last night, when he thought Leo was asleep, he’d even tucked him into bed. He had also told Leo he knew what it was like to grow up without a father, and to hang tough, because it got easier.

They were all three sprawled out on the floor of the safe house, playing Monopoly. Leo loved the game, and was very good at it. To him, it was the perfect way to end an almost-perfect day. Because he was a little more homesick today than yesterday, for it to be perfect, he’d have to call Pop or Shannon. But Joey still had Leo’s cellular, because he said he was waiting for an important government call.

But there was no harm in asking. “Joey?”

“Yeah, kid.”

“Would it be all right if I called Shannon now? I promise I won’t talk long,” Leo told him.

Joey looked at Irv, who just made a face and scratched his head. “I don’t know, Leo,” Joey said after a long pause. “You know I’m waiting for that important call.”

“But the other phone works now, right?” Leo persisted.

“Uh, right. But—”

Irv interrupted him. “Oh, let him call her, Joey. We’re sitting right here, so we can, you know, screen it for secret information, or anything.”

Joey gave an exasperated sigh. “Yeah. Okay. At least, this way I can quit the game before I lose my last ten bucks. But use the cellular.” He handed it to Leo and winked. “Harder for the spies to trace the call.”

Leo gleefully pressed in Shannon’s number and waited for her to answer. When she did, it sounded as if her cats were playing with the phone, or something. There was a lot of fumbling and even a loud thump, like it bounced on the floor.

“Hello?”

“Shannon?” Leo asked, frowning. “Do you have a cold?”

“Leo!” she exclaimed. “No, honey, I’m just fine. How are you?” This time, she decided to cut the folderol. “
Where
are you?” she asked.

“I still don’t know. But guess what?”

“Leo—”

“There’s a pool in the basement,” he continued.

Shannon cleared her throat. “A pool?”