He raised his hand and ran his fingers through her hair, watching as it fell in strands of flyaway gold against her cheek. Then he gathered the feathered tendrils and tucked them, like a flower, behind her ear. “I’m using my imagination now,” he said softly.
So was she…and feeling darned frustrated doing it, too. “There was something I wanted to…wanted to…say,” she began, although she couldn’t remember what it could have been. “I wanted to say…”
“Kiss me,” he supplied, bringing his hands to cup her shoulders.
“That…wasn’t it.” Although she was fairly certain she liked his idea better than hers. “We need to…talk. I have something to…to tell you.”
“Do you think it could wait?” His gaze traced the tip of her tongue as she moistened her lips, and Katherine was sure she would never breathe normally’ again. “Because I need to kiss you. And I need to do it very soon.”
Her fingers were tingling. Also her toes. It was possible she was tingling all over. “I think it’s only fair…” she whispered in soft, breathy syllables “…to tell you I’m not interested in a relationship.”
“Okay.” He slid his hands down her arms and took possession of her tingling fingers. “Are you interested in an affair?”
“Oh, yeah,” she said impulsively, anticipation flaring like the flame of a candle left in an open door. Before he could make another move, she had flung herself into his arms and was on her tiptoes and kissing him full on the mouth. It was just like the time in his office. She hadn’t gone there to kiss him, hadn’t even had a thought of doing so. But she’d been looking for someone to let her out of the building, and in the dusky darkness, she’d seen Gabe moving toward her and recognized him by his size and the way he moved. And there had been the mistletoe, tied with a silver bow that shone like a guiding star above the doorway he was fast approaching, and somewhere distant she could hear people laughing, and it had been Christmas Eve and she had been going home alone…and in the heat of an overpowering impulse, she had thrown herself into his arms, kissing him with all the pent-up passion anonymity could provide. She had been amazed by her actions—was still amazed that she had done something so uninhibited—and completely mesmerized by the melting response that singular kiss aroused.
And it was happening again. Now. All of it. Except this time he knew who she was. This time, she couldn’t pretend it was an accident. Or that she had merely imagined the pure, unadulterated lust that rushed through her veins like lemmings toward the sea.
If he was startled at first, she was too involved in the kiss to notice. But when he slowly, deliberately, eased into control, she paid attention…if only because the sensation of his mouth moving against hers in sensuous nudges was heaven. Then, as if heaven were just the preliminary phase of delight, Gabe proceeded to deepen the embrace, moving his hands to her hips, coaxing her against his thighs, and submerging any protest that dared arise against the obliterating deluge of sensations. Katherine felt her only choice was to follow his lead and, accordingly, her hands slid around his waist and down.
A soft moan of pleasure entered her as his hands moved up and down her back, caressing every pleasure point along her spine, giving each one a special, stimulating attention. Katherine reciprocated, despite the deliciously weak sensation permeating every square inch of her body, up to and including her tingling fingertips.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this, she thought. It was supposed to be a mutual thing, a shared exchange of passions…equal passions. He wasn’t supposed to be so in control. She wasn’t supposed to be so…willing.
She wasn’t sure how she came to be lying on the couch a few minutes later. Probably Gabe had suggested it with a touch and she’d promptly thrown herself across the cushions before he had a chance to ask. But when she realized through a haze of sensual pleasure that she was in an awkward…albeit a very gratifying…position on her back, under the mesmerizing command of Gabe’s lips…and a good portion of his body…Well, she couldn’t just go on pretending she was involved in a nice, safe fantasy.
Not that she’d ever had a fantasy quite this stimulating. Or one she’d been so totally averse to bringing to a climax.
Climax? The single word and its double meaning opened her eyes in a startled blink, and she made a frantic check to ensure she was still in possession of all her clothes. She considered it a good omen when she discovered that the only things missing were her shoes and a good chunk of her pride.
Now, if she could just get off this couch and away from the temptation to drown herself in his kisses, she’d tell him she had no intention of having an affair or of ever seeing him again. His lips nudged hers with gentle persuasion, and she nudged back, because it seemed unnecessary to be abrupt. She’d ease her way out of this. That was what she’d do. She’d stop kissing him first, then she’d put her lips to his ear and tell him there was no hope of this relationship going anywhere fast. Or slow. No. There was no chance of this relationship going nowhere. That was it. Yes, that was what she’d tell him. Just as soon as she figured out why she’d thought she wanted to stop kissing him.
But it wasn’t until the kiss fell apart for lack of oxygen that her memory returned a full and embarrassing account of her wants, actions, and intentions. Katherine came to her senses in a heartbeat, sitting straight up and pulling Gabe up with her. “That’s not the way this was supposed to happen,” she said, in a voice that mimicked her tenuous control and the rapid cadence of her pulse.
He moved into a sitting position beside her, draping his arm around her shoulders and moving into her space again, into the danger zone. “Show me how it was supposed to happen, Kate, and I’ll try again.”
“No.” Her hands were at his chest, her fingers curling with the longing to unbutton the placket and jerk the shirt over his head and off. She couldn’t quite get her fingers to move off his chest, but at. least she was holding her own with the buttons. “No. We are going nowhere with this.”
“Define nowhere,” he said, his breath caressing the hollows of her throat, his lips suggesting that if she would only lift her chin just a little, he would be able to caress more of her.
“Nowhere,” she whispered, lifting her chin and letting her head fall back against his arm. His kisses nibbled away at her reason. “Nowhere…That would be…where this is going.”
“Mmm…” he murmured as he kissed his way along the curve of her throat until he reached her lips. “I’ve never wanted to go nowhere before.”
“Me either.”
His kisses requested her silence then, with a sensuous, slow, and tender touch. A series of touches, really. Gliding from one corner of her mouth to the other. Her lips parted, inviting the scintillating appeal of his tongue, anticipating a new onslaught of pleasures…pleasures that failed to materialize when he abruptly pulled back and scooted a short distance away from her. When he turned his head and looked into her eyes, her heart nearly melted from the heat of desire in his gaze. “Much as I hate to say this,” he said. “This is as close to going nowhere as we can get, tonight. I didn’t come prepared for this, and while I’d like to think you are, I have a strong hunch you’re not.”
She frowned, confused as much by the overwhelming yearning to be in his arms as by whatever he was trying to tell her. “Prepared? I’m not even coherent.”
His smile made her tingle all over again, and she folded her hands firmly in her lap. “I think it’s time you went home.”
“I think you’re right.” He stood and reached for her hand, tried to pry one from the other, and finally grasped them both and drew her to her feet. “You can walk me to the door,” he suggested.
Yes. She could do that without completely embarrassing herself, she thought. “Okay.” Her legs felt shaky, but she congratulated herself on moving steadily, decisively, ahead of Gabe toward the door. When she opened it and turned to him, he paused expectantly. “I don’t think I should kiss you again,” she said quickly. “Really, I think you should go.”
“Oh, your coat.” She was feeling stronger by the minute. He was just waiting for his coat. Good. She’d get it for him. Opening the coat closet, she pulled it off a hanger and handed it to him. “There,” she said with a smile. “Your coat.”
“Thank you.” He looped the wool scarf about his neck first, then slipped into the coat and reached into his pockets for his gloves. He pulled them on, then leaned forward and kissed her, sweetly, deliberately, lingeringly, and when he drew back, it was all Katherine could do not to follow up that kiss with another.
It was that silly coat, she thought. If he just didn’t look so damned attractive in it. “You should button up,” she told him. “It’s cold outside.”
He fumbled with the buttons obediently, but Katherine brushed his hands aside and began the job herself. “You should have put on your gloves after you buttoned your coat,” she said as she perfected the first closure and moved down. “It makes this easier, you know.”
“This seems pretty easy.”
She glanced up to see his smile, lost her momentum, and had to start over with the same button. “I can never get this button to work,” she said, feeling a little giddy, a lot nervous. “It always wants to stick.”
“You sound like you’ve done this before.”
“Hundreds of times in my fan—” She realized what she was saying at the same instant he did, and she thought that if ever the time had been right to die of embarrassment, this was it. From the look in his eyes and the charming tug of humor at the corner of his lips, she figured he was piecing together some details of that particular fantasy and decided she could only make things worse by trying to deny it. So she just stepped back and shooed him toward the door. “Just go,” she said. Thankfully, he went.
Chapter Nine
Gabe was back the next afternoon.
“Is it Saturday?” Andy asked excitedly when he opened the door. “Are we going to the North Pole now?”
“Tomorrow, kiddo. Early.”
“Hiya, Gabe!” Abby bounced up behind her brother and hopped in place, alternating from one foot to the other. “What’s that?” She pointed to the bulge under his coat, and Gabe tried to look as astonished as the juggler had when the monkey crawled out of his shirt, but the twins weren’t interested. They just wanted to know what he’d brought them.
“This?” he asked, reaching in to withdraw a fuzzy orange ball. “This is—”
“Matilda!” Abby screeched, reaching for the kitten with both hands. “It’s The Real Cat Matilda!”
Katherine was in the room in less than a second, her gray eyes taking in the scene, her face forming. the exact expression Gabe had been attempting…a dead ringer for yesterday’s juggler.
“Mom…” Abby’s voice held all the wonder of the ages. “Gabe found The Real Cat Matilda and brought her home.”
“Hello, Matilda,” Andy crooned as he stroked its fuzzy ear. “Hello, kitty.”
As both children cuddled around the kitten, Gabe stepped into the apartment and closed the door. He didn’t have to try to look sheepish. “Hi, Kate,” he began brightly, innocently. “How are you?”
Her frosty look fell to the fuzzball. “Allergic.”
“Oh.” That put a new perspective on things. “You’re allergic to kittens?”
“No, but I’m about to be.” She grabbed his arm and tugged him away from the cooing huddle of youngsters. “What are you doing with that cat?”
“You said it would be all right to bring my pet for a visit.”
“You said you had a dog. An obedience-trained dog.”
“I did,” he admitted, wishing that this one time Louisa had done what he asked her to do…which was to find a dog he could borrow for the afternoon…instead of doing what she thought best… which was to spend way too much money to purchase a pedigreed feline because it happened to match the description of Abby’s stuffed lion. He hadn’t even asked how she knew about the lion. “I did say I had a dog,” he continued. “But he was busy this afternoon.”
“So you brought your cat instead?”
He loved the flush of irritation on her cheeks, the sparkle of agitation in her eyes. But what he loved most right now was her lips. Her enchanting, kissable lips. “Actually, I brought your cat.”
“No, you didn’t. Tell me you didn’t.”
“I had to. It came with papers that had to be filled out, and I figured it would be better to put down your name instead of Abby’s, and, well, you’ll be getting a whole packet of pedigree in the mail in a couple of weeks.”
She frowned. A serious frown. A downright murderous frown. “You’ll have to take it and its papers back wherever it came from.”
Gabe shifted uneasily. Louisa had assured him that Katherine would take one look at the kitten and fall in love. She’d promised. “Now, Kate, I know you said you didn’t want a kitten, but you also said you wanted to learn how to purr, and I thought you and Matilda might put your heads together and—”
“Listen to me, Gabe Housley. I am never, ever, going to learn how to purr! Now, you just take that. fuzzy little lion back where you found her and maybe, in about twenty years, I’ll forget how mad I am at you.”
Twenty years. She was still going to be mad about this in twenty years. He wondered if she’d still look this pretty, and if he’d still be so eager to kiss her.
“And you can just wipe that stupid smile off your face, too, because when you leave—in about two minutes from now—the cat goes with you.”
“Mom, look.” Abby held up the kitten. “She has a spot on her foot, just like the other Matilda. She is The Real Cat Matilda. She is!”
“Abby, you know a stuffed toy can’t suddenly become real. That spot is just some grape juice you spilled a long time ago.”
Abby picked up the kitten’s paw and checked the spot, then hugged the kitten intensely. “I spilled grape juice on you,” she murmured in a lullaby. “When you were just a toy.”
“For heaven’s sake, Abby, you spilled the juice on the stuffed animal, not the cat.”
Abby had her hands on warm, fuzzy love, and she wasn’t giving in. “That proves she’s The Real Cat Matilda! If I hadn’t spilt the juice, how could she have this spot in the exact same place?”
“Give the cat back to Gabe, Abby. She doesn’t belong to you.”
“Yes, she does!” Abby first pulled the cat closer, out of adult reach, hugging it against her heart. Then she abruptly changed tactics and thrust the animal into Katherine’s unsuspecting hands. “But she is real, Mom! Feel her! She’s the most perfectest Matilda I could ever have.”
“Most perfect,” Katherine corrected as she awkwardly tried to balance the kitten, which made a soft mewling sound as it huddled, with a delicate shiver, in the palms of her hands. “Most perfect,” she repeated, looking down at the kitten’s little triangle of a face.
Gabe held his breath and counted all the way to seven before he detected the softening around her eyes. He reached twelve before her expression changed from Absolutely not! to Oh, it’s so scared… The same thing had happened at the office, with Wendy, and with every other female pitted against the kitten’s piquant stare.
“Meow?” said The Real Cat Matilda…and the good deed was accomplished.
KATHERINE rolled Abby’s parka into a bundle and fitted it under her seat in row 15, orchestra section, Radio City Music Hall. As she straightened, she purposely jostled Gabe’s elbow, pushing it from the narrow armrest between their theater seats.
“Let me know if my arm gets in your way,” he said, propping his elbow back on the armrest.
She slid an accusing glance at him, empowered by the knowledge that he owed her. He owed her bigtime. And she took serene delight in reminding him at every opportunity. “Your arm is in my way,” she said pleasantly.
With a display of deference, he removed his elbow from the armrest, and she contentedly replaced it with hers. Opening
the program, she leafed through the pages, just to show how unconcerned she was about his studied regard. “For Pete’s sake, Katherine,” he said eventually. “You like the darn cat.”
She shrugged. “Maybe I will learn to like the cat, Gabe, but you needn’t think I’m going to forgive you, because I’m not.”
“You should be grateful I showed up with the kitten instead of without it.”
“Grateful? I should be grateful?”
He nodded, crossing his arms across his chest…which, she hadn’t been able to help noticing, was nicely covered today by a dark-gold sweater that complemented the rich brown of his eyes. “A less considerate man might have shown up empty-handed and asked you to help him unbutton his coat.”
Her cheeks blushed warm—as he’d undoubtedly known they would—and she was grateful the lights had already begun to dim. “A more considerate man wouldn’t have shown up,” she said, too loudly.
“Sssshhhh, Mom!” Andy leaned around Gabe’s far side to reprimand her for continuing to talk in the quieting darkness of the huge auditorium. “The show’s getting ready to start.”
Gabe arched his eyebrows in a follow-up scold, and on Katherine’s other side, Abby flashed her Santa globe flashlight and kicked the seat in front of her. “I still don’t see why I couldn’t bring Matilda,” she muttered. “She likes the Rockettes just as much as me.”
Katherine closed the program and, with a glance to make sure Gabe wasn’t paying attention, she let her elbow drop from the armrest to a lower, more comfortable position. As the orchestra begin to play and the curtain rose, Abby and Andy sat straight, scooted to the edges of their respective seats and stared at the stage, their jaws slack, their mouths rounded in fascinated and duplicate Os.
Gabe leaned close to Katherine, bringing with him a sensual and subtle awareness. “Keep your eyes open for Santa Claus,” he whispered. “If he’s here, I don’t want you to blink and miss seeing him.”
She sighed at his teasing, thinking how good he smelled, how solid his shoulder was when she occasionally brushed against it. It was a wondrously strange feeling to be sitting next to him in the dark, surrounded on every side, but very much alone together.
The Santa Suit (Holiday Homecoming #4) Page 15