It wasn’t what she and Jack did. But she’d started this. “Anyway, I decided to go see Santa with my younger brother, Dan.”
“Dan was a believer?”
“Yeah. But he was intimidated by the beard and suit. I sat on Santa’s lap to coax him into it. Mom wanted a picture.”
“And you told Santa what you wanted?” he guessed.
“On the off chance that he was magic, I sort of whispered it in his ear.” She shrugged and self-consciously toyed with a strand of hair. “Pretty silly, huh?”
“On the contrary—” He reached over and put his hand on hers.
The touch was warm, strong, sweet, and stopped her heart. It could have been the wine, the buzz, or sharing a suite with Jack, but the feel of his hand on hers was like a punch to the gut and it took two deep breaths to get everything moving again.
That had never happened before.
“Did you get it?”
“What?” she asked.
“The doll house?”
“Oh. No. Anyway—” she eased her hand from beneath his “—tell me about your bike.”
“It was blue. And it didn’t come from Santa,” he teased.
“I knew you thought I was being silly. It’s very sad when you have to grow up.”
“It is, yes.” He looked at her, an odd expression on his face. “If you still believed, what would you ask Santa for this year?”
“Florence,” she said.
“Who?”
“Not who,” she said, laughing. “Italy. I’ve always wanted to go there.” She shrugged. “I’m not sure why. I’ve seen pictures, but I just have a feeling it’s one of those places you have to see with your own eyes.”
“Who knows? Maybe Santa will make it happen.”
“Maybe.”
When he smiled, the scary exciting feeling came back with a one/two punch. It was time to call it a night before she said something else she’d regret.
“I’m exhausted. Funny how sitting for hours on a plane can do that. I think the traveling has caught up with me.”
Amusement disappeared from his eyes, replaced by what looked like regret. “I’m sorry, Maddie. I shouldn’t have made you travel on Christmas. You had plans. With someone special?”
“Yes.” Not quite a lie; her friends were special. “But it’s okay. Actually, this turned out to be a nice holiday after all.”
The brooding look was back, as if he were remembering the ghosts of Christmas past. Quite frankly she’d never seen a man more in need of a hug.
He stood and held out his hand. When she took it, he tugged her to her feet and into his arms. They were pressed together from chest to knee and it felt really good. If he hadn’t looked so lonely, she might have been able to resist but she couldn’t help herself. She put her arms around his neck and held him close.
“No matter what you think,” she said, “your family was happy to see you.”
“I’ll take your word for that.”
She looked up and his eyes flared with something hot as his gaze settled on her mouth. Was he going to kiss her?
She held her breath, suddenly wanting to feel his lips on hers more than she’d ever wanted anything—including that doll house. But she didn’t dare toy with Jack.
He looked at her for a long moment, before lowering his head to settle his mouth on hers. One soft touch and her breathing went from zero to ragged in a heartbeat. He tightened his arms around her, fitting her body more closely to his, setting off sparks inside her. The needy moan trapped in her throat threatened to make her go up in flames. This was a place she’d never been before and didn’t want to ever leave.
But this was Jack. Her boss.
She would never know how she managed to find the willpower and presence of mind to pull her mouth from his and disentangle herself from his arms. “It’s time to turn in.”
That breathless, needy voice couldn’t really be hers, could it?
He ran his fingers through his hair. “Merry Christmas, Maddie.”
“Same to you, Jack.”
She hurried into her room and shut the door, heart pounding as if the devil were after her. The devil in the form of Jack Valentine? She’d certainly seen his dark side, a side she hadn’t known he had. A side she’d have been better off never finding out he had because she was drawn to it. The dark side was what made her hug him. And that led to…
She leaned against the door and pressed her fingers to her still-tingling lips. If only it hadn’t been a good kiss. But it was without a doubt the best kiss she’d ever had.
Now she hoped there wouldn’t be the devil to pay.
CHAPTER THREE
ALL Maddie had wanted was a dreamless sleep and to wake up and have the old Jack back. She hadn’t seen him yet, and she could say the same thing for sleep thanks to that kiss. After two years, why now? And what did it mean? Probably nothing. By sheer numbers, the women in his life proved that. Maddie wanted more. Jack teased her about the men she dated, but she’d never hear the end of it if he found out she was a virgin.
Her current state of purity had everything to do with crappy judgment in men. She’d fallen head over heels once, with a bad boy of course. She’d almost given him what she’d been saving for marriage but had found out just in time that he’d bet his buddies he could get her into bed. He’d lost the bet.
So now her taste in men leaned toward the ones who showed no obvious signs of bad boy-it-is—no earrings, tattoos or long hair. The problem was she didn’t want to sleep with any of them either. Up until last night, Jack hadn’t tempted her but she couldn’t let a nothing kiss change anything because he didn’t want a permanent relationship.
She looked in the full-length mirror on the closet door to check her appearance, then gathered up her notes on the dresser beside Jack’s gift. She’d forgotten to give it to him yesterday so she grabbed it, too. The door separating her room from the shared living space was in front of her and she tried to tell herself that this was no different from going to the office in Manhattan every day.
But herself didn’t buy the lie because she knocked once. She never knocked when she entered her office. “Ready or not, here I come.”
“I’m ready.” Jack was sitting on the sofa where he’d been last night. His laptop was on the coffee table and in the dining room there was an array of food ranging from scrambled eggs and bacon to pastries, croissants and fruit.
“This is very nice of you, Jack,” she said, looking at the spread.
“I’m a nice man.”
Like his father. But he wouldn’t want to hear that and he was looking like the old Jack. No need to bring out the dangerous side of him that thrilled the part of her susceptible to his type.
She set her notes and his gift down on the coffee table and helped herself to eggs, a croissant and fruit, as well as a cup of coffee. Moving back to the sitting area, she took the same space she’d occupied the night before and settled the plate in her lap and the coffee on the table.
She picked up the gift and held it out. “Here. This was in my suitcase. I didn’t get a chance to give it to you last night.”
He hesitated to take it. “Maddie, I— You shouldn’t have.”
“Why? We exchange gifts.” She took a bite of croissant, then a forkful of eggs.
“That’s