Earlier, when he
had kissed her, she had been the only thing in
his world.
Something told her that was very,
very unusual for him. And it was that quiet little
urging voice that she was listening to right now. She
planned to blame that little voice if she got tossed out
on her butt.
The long, paved road wove around
Eben’s estate. It had been four years since she’d been
here, at a business dinner meeting, working with her new
boss, meeting Eben for the first time.
And it was as amazing now as it was
then, the windows, and there seemed to be a thousand of
them, all sparkling under the light of the full moon.
The moon hung low and fat in the air, casting its
silvery light all over the sumptuous estate. There were
more lights blazing, even though it was later now than
it had been then.
So he was awake, she figured,
nibbling nervously on her lower lip as she slowly walked
up the ornate walkway. Egads…even the sidewalks are
fancy, she thought as she glanced down. She’d
been too much in awe of the house to notice anything
else when she had come here that one and only time.
Pressing a finger to the doorbell,
she took a deep breath, trying to compose herself. Hell,
maybe the butler would turn her away—she never doubted
there’d be a butler there. Even if it was past eleven
o’clock on Christmas Eve.
So when Eben himself opened the door,
bare-chested, his pale blond hair tousled, she was at a
loss for words.
Except for… Damn, he’s hot…
Unconsciously, her tongue slid out to
wet her lips as her eyes drifted down the hard, sculpted
wall of his chest.
Finally, she tore her eyes away from
those six-pack abs and lifted her gaze to find him
watching her with an arched brow, a bemused, questioning
smile on his face. Her eyes rested briefly on that
mouth, one corner canted up, the hint of a dimple in his
cheek.
“Merry Christmas,” she said finally,
keeping her hands fisted in the pockets of the long,
rich velvet cloak she’d pulled on. One of her few
indulgences, the sumptuous thing was made of real silk
velvet, with that soft sheen only the best of velvets
had. It lay against her naked body, the wind snaking in
under the hem to nip at her bare legs.
He grinned a little wider as he said,
“You’ve said that once already, today, haven’t you?”
She shrugged and the edges of the
cloak shifted just enough—she watched as his eyes cut to
the front of the cloak for the quickest of seconds, hot
and intent. When he looked back into her eyes, it was
with a bland gaze. But she’d seen the flames.
“Maybe, but I didn’t give you a
present,” she said huskily.
He frowned, brows dropping low over
his eyes. “You don’t need to give—”
Interrupting, she asked, “Don’t you
want to know what it is?” And with a naughty little
smile, she reached up and flipped open the heavy pewter
clasp, shrugging her shoulders so that the velvet fell
away. She caught the heavy length in her hand and just
stood there, waiting, as he stared at her scantily
covered body with hot, hungry eyes. The red push-up bra
gleamed against the pale ivory of her skin, the
temporary tattoo she’d applied the day before rested
right above the line of the skirted garter belt she
wore.
Skinny little garters held up the
opaque black stockings, and she wore the high-heeled,
red fuck-me shoes she had bought on a whim a few weeks
earlier.
His voice shook slightly as he
rasped, “I don’t think I’ve been good enough for that
kind of present.” Then he grimaced. “Unless you just
plan on letting me look before you walk away.”
The cold rippled down her skin and
she shivered, but kept her arms hanging loose at her
sides. With a slight smile, she said, “I wasn’t planning
on doing that.”
