* *
A little while later he made a quick trip to the loo to dispose of the condom. He returned to her and gathered her close and they lay on the bed in the silvery light from the big window, naked, together, watching the snow come down. Her fat orange cat jumped up in the window and watched the snow with them.
He felt content in a way he hadn’t for a single day since she left him alone in Montedoro. She was so easy to be with. It had always been that way between them: comfortable. Right. He’d feared that having sex with her would ruin the easiness.
So far it hadn’t. Maybe he’d get lucky after all. This new hunger they had for each other would run its course and they would still have their friendship.
God. He hoped so.
He stroked her hair and ran a finger up and down her arm.
She sighed. “That was so good. Oh, Dami, about sex? Seriously, I had no idea what I was missing. And I’m so glad I decided to learn from the best.”
He squeezed her shoulder. “No regrets, then?”
“None. And it’s not only the sex, Dami. It’s...this. You and me, alone, just being together. This is so good.”
He pressed a kiss against her hair, breathing in the womanly scent of her. “Better than good.”
She lifted up enough to look down at him and meet his eyes. “So tell me. I have to know. How long are you here for? Are you staying upstairs? You weren’t wearing a coat, which I’m guessing means you went up to your apartment first.... And what are you here for? Business? Where’s your bodyguard? When did you get here? Oh, Dami, how I have missed you.”
He chuckled. “I missed you, too.” Far too much. “And do you really expect me to remember all those questions?”
She kissed his shoulder. “Try.”
That made him smile. “Fair enough, then. I’ll be here through the first part of next week, at least. Yes, I’m staying upstairs. I have some meetings, a project in the works.”
“What—?”
He stopped her next question with a finger to her mouth. “Wait until I answer the ones you already asked.” She pressed her lips together and nodded in a promise of silence—one he knew she couldn’t keep. He said, “Quentin, my bodyguard, is now in his room off my apartment. He’s not happy that I refused to let him come down here with me so he could check your rooms for threats.”
“Oh, right. I could be planning to kidnap you and hold you for ransom.”
“Exactly. You could be a very dangerous woman.”
“I could chain you to my bed and never let you go.”
He lifted his head long enough to kiss the tip of her nose. “It’s an intriguing idea, one we should discuss in depth later.”
She put on a shocked expression. “Oh, now I get it. You’re the one who’s dangerous.”
“Didn’t I warn you about that?”
“You did. I didn’t listen—and I’m so glad I didn’t.”
He caught her chin. “Kiss me.” She lowered those soft, warm lips to his in a brushing kiss that ended too soon. He stared up at her and stroked her velvety cheek. “You are dangerous,” he whispered.
And she giggled. “I guess you needed Quentin here after all.”
“No, I didn’t. He’d have gone around opening your cabinets and peering in your closets. I didn’t want that for our reunion.”
She kissed his shoulder. “Our reunion. I like it.”
Damien did, too. Far too much. “Where was I? Ah. I arrived here only a little while before I knocked on your door. I went to my apartment, had my driver drop my bags in the foyer and took off my coat while Quentin went up and down the stairs checking for potential threats. Then I sent him to his room and came to find you. Next question?”
“What is the project you’re here about?”
“Prepare to be fascinated,” he said wryly. “Mass-transit apps.”
“Like HopStop? GPS for a subway or bus system, showing you where to get on and get off and change buses to get where you’re going?”
“Exactly. We want that for Montedoro. Rule was dealing with it and he had meetings set up here in New York for Monday and Tuesday of next week. But he had a scheduling conflict. I stepped up and volunteered to fill in for him.” It sounded perfectly reasonable. But it wasn’t the whole truth. He’d wanted to see her again, couldn’t stop thinking about her. The transit-app project? Just an excuse.
She kissed him, her hand at his cheek, caressing. “How long will you be here?”
“Until the middle of next week, Wednesday or Thursday....”
“Will you have meetings every day?” She actually blushed. “And yes, I am working you totally, trying to find out how much of your time I can expect to monopolize.”
Good. She wanted what he wanted. More of this, the two of them. More time together. More sex. More...everything.
He answered her easily, in a casual tone. “The meetings are scheduled for Monday and Tuesday. I’m hoping to keep them to the mornings both days, but they could go longer....”
“You’re free for the weekend, then, and in the evenings?”
“Yes, I am.”
“Yay!” She kissed him again, a brush of her lips along his jaw. “Four or five days, you and me. Together.” But then she grew tentative. “I mean, if that’s good for you. If it’s, you know, what you had in mind?”
He clasped her bare shoulder. “It’s exactly what I had in mind.”
“Oh!” Her smile lit up her face again. “Wonderful.”
“What about you? Will you be busy?”
“Well, I did volunteer to make costumes for a children’s Christmas show and wrap presents for kids in need. But I can put most of that off until after you leave, so while you’re here, I can spend every spare minute with you.”
“Excellent.” He pulled her closer and never wanted to let go—which of course was ridiculous. He always let go in the end. The heat and hunger never lasted, and when it went, his interest went with it. Some men weren’t made for forever and he accepted that he was one of those. “We have a plan, then.”
“Oh, yeah, we do. A Christmas love affair, the two of us. To go with our Thanksgiving love affair. I could really get used to having love affairs with you.”
He stroked her hair and heard himself asking in a casual tone that belied the extent of his interest, “What about that Brandon fellow? Still hoping to make something happen with him?”
“Brandon.” She groaned. “Oh, I don’t think so. He’s not all that after all— Plus, he’s in L.A. and likely to stay there. And he’s met someone special, he said.”
Good. The guy with the butterscotch eyes was out of the picture. Dami smiled against her hair and baldly lied, “Too bad.”
“It’s okay. Believe me. It’s not meant to be with Brandon and I’m totally good with that.”
He tipped up her chin, rubbed his mouth across hers, savored her tiny sigh. “About our Christmas love affair?”
She grinned against his lips. “Now you’re talkin’.”
“Five days is too short.” He spoke the bald truth without stopping to think if the bald truth was wise.
She made a happy little sound and tucked her head down on his chest again. “Maybe you’ll stay longer, like until New Year’s. After all, a Christmas love affair would logically last