Champagne and Moonlight

by JoAnn Ross

  “Okay,” he agreed, deciding he could always change her mind later. He took her hand in his, lacing their fingers together. “No dancing.”

  As they entered the suite’s living room and she heard the quiet click of the door behind her, Shiloh hoped she hadn’t made the biggest mistake of her life.

  Of course she hadn’t. It was ridiculous to worry, she reminded herself firmly. She’d been introduced to the doctor by a state trooper, for heaven’s sake. His own parents—along with half the town—were downstairs. He may be dangerously tempting. But he wasn’t dangerous.

  He opened the champagne with a flair she admired, poured the sparkling wine into two of the glasses sitting on the tray atop the mini bar and handed one to her.

  “To the new year,” he said.

  “The new year,” she echoed, thinking it couldn’t come a minute too soon. She was definitely ready for a fresh start. She took a sip of champagne, enjoying the way the bubbles danced like laughter on her tongue.

  Given the spark of attraction that had flared between them at the beginning, Matt was amazed when they were able to actually talk. He told her about life as a small-town doctor. She told him about shooting the werewolf movie. When she described the race through the swamp, including how her nightgown had ripped on a tree branch, he decided Danny, Mike and half the male population would undoubtedly cause the film to top even Night Bites when it came to video rental revenues.

  She told him about her sister, too, and how growing up with the General had made them both able to adjust to new surroundings. He surprised himself by admitting how homesick he’d been during his student years in Los Angeles.

  Growing more and more comfortable with him, Shiloh found herself telling how her mother, chafing under the General’s need to control his wife and children as he did the troops serving under his command, had run away before Shiloh and Savannah had celebrated their third birthday. In turn, Matt told her how his own mother had been his father’s office nurse until her retirement three years ago. A retirement that coincided with her husband’s, the plan being they’d get in all that traveling they’d always wanted to do.

  “It took them three months to realize that they didn’t like traveling,” Matt said with an easy laugh. “I think it’d take dynamite to get them out of Paradise now.”

  “It seems like a nice town.” And friendly, if the people she’d met tonight were any indication. “Your mom and dad seem happy.” She’d witnessed the couple exchanging a tender kiss during a slow dance, and Shiloh had experienced a guilty twinge of envy that two people could still be so obviously in love after so many years together.

  “They’re as nuts about each other as they were when they were high school sweethearts.”

  “That’s sweet.” It was also exactly what she longed for for herself.

  Her soft sigh told Matt it was time to change the subject, so he launched into a highly edited account of how, his first night as a resident in the ob/gyn service, he’d ended up delivering triplets.

  “You must have been frantic,” she said.

  “At the time I probably would have sold my soul for another pair of hands. But now, looking back on it, I can definitely see the humor in the situation.”

  Suddenly, bells started ringing all over town, from the melodious carillon of the Good Shepherd Church at the end of Main Street to the mellow chimes high in the redbrick tower in the town square. Horns blared, and people shouted out greetings to the new year.

  “It’s midnight.” Matt’s hand cupped her cheek. His eyes met hers.

  “Yes.” The witching hour. Never before had she realized how accurate that description was. Of course, never, not once in her life, had she ever felt so bewitched.

  “I’m going to kiss you now, Shiloh.” The simple statement of intent was spoken with a grave seriousness that caused her heart to take a painful little lurch.

  “Oh, yes.” Her smile, which only wavered slightly, was as beatific as any woman ever shared with any man.

  He bent his head until his mouth brushed hers. “Happy New Year.”

  Her lips parted on a rippling little sigh of pleasure. “Happy New Year,” she whispered back.

  His lips claimed hers in an explosion of pent-up desire. His hands tangled in her hair, rough, possessive, as he held her to a kiss that ignited her blood like a thousand flickering flames.

  She clung to him breathlessly, her avid lips raining a blizzard of kisses over his face as he scooped her up and carried her into the adjoining bedroom.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Passion ruled, desire overwhelmed. There was no time for gentleness or finesse. Matt thought he’d go mad if he didn’t touch her. Shiloh dragged his sweater over his head, desperate to experience his hard body against hers.

  Hands that could deftly stitch up a slice in a lacerated scalp suddenly turned clumsy as he fumbled with the buttons down the front of her dress. She would have helped him, but her own hands were yanking at the stubborn metal buttons of his jeans.

  “I hate these things,” she muttered.

  “I’ll buy a pair with a zipper the minute the stores open in the morning,” he said, groaning, conveniently forgetting she’d be leaving town in the morning.

  Success! He peeled the dress from her, then, taking no time to appreciate her scarlet bra and panties, he stripped them away, as well. She hadn’t managed to unfasten his jeans, but it was just as well. Matt knew that all it would take would be the touch of her hands on him, and this would all be over.

  As his mouth raced over her furnace-hot flesh, kindling fresh fires while feeding those already ablaze, heat suffused her, making her forget she’d ever felt the need for caution. No one had ever taken her with such passion. Never had she experienced lovemaking so furious, so fast, so abandoned. It was terrifying. It was thrilling.

  Ravenous for more, she arched against him and breathlessly pleaded with him to take her, now, before she went mad.

  “Not yet.” His lips blazed a wildfire path across her quivering stomach. “You’re not nearly there yet.”

  Her flesh was flaming, and she was burning from the inside out. Surely there couldn’t be more! “Not where?”

  “Where I want to take you.”

  Her stockings ended high on her thigh, held up with a lace band at the top. He lifted one leg in the air, nibbled his way from ankle to lace, then repeated the sweet, sensual torture on the other leg.

  Matt left her only long enough to strip off his own clothes. And although he resented anything coming between them, he took the extra time to sheathe himself. Then he was back, pulling her against him, heat to heat, flesh to flesh. As they rolled over the bed, bathed in the silver glow of moonlight streaming through the window, there was no hesitation, no holding back.

  Her arms and legs wrapped around him like warm silk. Shiloh could feel his heart pounding against his ribs, its rhythm synchronized with the wild, out of control beat of her own. Matt tasted her hunger on her soft, avid lips.

  He lifted his head and looked at her. Their eyes met and held. Yesterday spun away. Tomorrow seemed a lifetime away. All that mattered was now. And then, in that shimmering moment of suspended passion, Matt did something Shiloh knew she’d remember for the rest of her life.

  He smiled. A slow smile that lit up his eyes with tender emotion. Transfixed, she watched as he lowered his head again and kissed her with a gentleness that made her want to weep.

  “Now,” he murmured against her lips.

  “Now.” She sighed as their breath mingled.

  Then he plunged into her, driving her deep into the mattress, taking her higher and higher into the flames. When he heard her cry out his name and felt the rippling waves of her climax, Matt surrendered the last of his control. With one last mighty thrust of his hips he filled her completely, giving in to his own release.

  He could still feel her inner tremors as they lay together on the tangled sheets, pulses of life flowing between them.

  “I wanted this,” he
murmured, stroking her damp hair away from her face. “I wanted you. From the first minute I walked into the Silver Nugget and saw you.”

  “I know.” Shiloh smiled even as she sighed. “I wanted you, too. Even if it was crazy.”

  “Insane,” he agreed. Her eyelids fluttered closed as he kissed her. “Want to know what’s really nuts?”

  “What?” She felt the mists clouding her mind again as his tongue traced a slow, erotic circle around her parted lips.

  He ran a hand down her moon-gilded flesh. “I want you again. Already.”

  She opened her eyes and smiled, a slow, shy siren’s smile. “Me, too.”

  This time he’d do it right, Matt assured himself as he gathered her into his arms. This time he’d take things nice and slow. He’d made her burn and he’d made her fly. This time, he vowed, he’d make her float.

  And he did. All night long.

  * * *

  “Hey!” the little boy complained, “who turned off the lights? It’s dark in here!”

  “Well, of course it is, silly,” his sister said. “Didn’t you pay attention when Gabriel told us how it happens?”

  He held a pudgy little hand in front of his face, frustrated when he couldn’t see it. “I remember something about magic,” he muttered, unwilling to admit that he’d been too excited about becoming a real boy to listen to the details.

  “Actually, it’s more like a miracle. And miracles take a while.”

  “How long? Geez, we’ve already been waiting an eternity.”

  “Not hardly.” The little girl, who watched the comings and goings around her with more interest than her brother, knew exactly how long an eternity could be. “And we’ve only got a few more months.”

  “How many months?”

  “Nine. Give or take a couple of weeks either way.”

  “Nine?”

  “Nine. And don’t whine.” She reached out, unerringly patting his head in the close, dark space. “You’ll see. The waiting will be over before you know it.”

  The little boy sighed. Nine months sounded like forever.

  * * *

  When she woke to find the bed empty, Shiloh’s first thought was that Matt had left, creeping away like a thief in the night.

  What did you expect? Going to bed with a man you didn’t even know? She closed her eyes and wondered what flaw she possessed that had her continually zeroing in on the wrong men, like iron filings pulled toward a powerful magnet.

  On the other hand, she considered, desperately trying to find a bright side to all this, with him gone, she wouldn’t have to try to make awkward, morning-after conversation.

  She crawled out of the rumpled sheets that still carried the evocative scent of their lovemaking and stumbled into the adjoining bathroom, where she brushed her teeth, showered and washed her hair. Usually the feel of suds streaming over her body gave her a wonderfully sensual feeling, but this morning her mind was too filled with self-recriminations to enjoy it.

  She’d been out of her mind last night, she scolded herself as she turned off the water and reached for the white robe hanging on the hook on the back of the door. From now on, she was definitely staying away from champagne. Obviously, it made her crazy. Remembering that her hair dryer was in the other room, she left the bathroom and came face-to-face with Matt.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, when she let out a surprised little yelp that embarrassed them both. “I knocked, but you didn’t hear me. I guess you were in the shower.”

  Although she’d been as intimate with this man as a woman could be, in the cold bright light of this January morning, Shiloh felt unreasonably uncomfortable at having him see her looking so disheveled. She looked at him looking at her and decided he was trying to figure out what had happened to the glamorous movie star he’d bedded last night.

  She couldn’t have been more wrong.

  Matt had known she was gorgeous. But now, seeing her with her hair wet, engulfed in those voluminous terry-cloth folds, without an ounce of makeup on her well-scrubbed face, he realized he’d underestimated her true beauty.

  Obviously, on some subconscious level, he’d attributed her appearance in her films to expert lighting and makeup designed to create the illusion of beauty. But in the bright mountain light streaming through the window, the truth was undeniable.

  Shiloh Beauregard was absolutely exquisite. And as uncomfortable as he was with this situation, as he took in the beads of water on her exposed skin, Matt was struck with a sudden need to lick them off. And that was just the beginning.

  “I thought you’d left,” she admitted softly.

  He grimaced at the veiled hurt in her eyes, the faint accusation in her tone. “I was calling down for breakfast. I didn’t want to wake you.”

  “Oh.” The way he was staring at her was making Shiloh decidedly uneasy. She drew the lapels of the robe more tightly together. “That was very thoughtful of you.” She decided this was no time to mention she never ate breakfast.

  An uncomfortable silence settled over them. Shiloh was the first to break it. “Well,” she said, dragging a hand through her wet, tangled hair.

  “Yet another deep subject.” When she simply stared uncomprehendingly at him, Matt shrugged and jammed his hands into the pockets of his jeans. That’s what he got, for breaking his lifelong tenet about one-night stands. He couldn’t ever remember feeling this uncomfortable after a night of unbridled sex. Actually, he couldn’t recall ever having a night of such unbridled hot sex, but that wasn’t the point.

  “It was a joke,” he explained. “A bad one, obviously.”

  “Oh.” Her eyes widened with comprehension. “I get it now.” Her smile was obviously forced. “It’s funny.”

  “Not really.” He was dying here. “I’ll let you get dressed.” He left the bedroom, shutting the door behind him with a decisive click.

  “Well,” Shiloh repeated softly, staring at the closed door.

  The General had taught his daughters that everything came with a price. That being the case, Shiloh supposed she shouldn’t be surprised that the cost for the most thrilling, exciting night of her life would turn out to be the most disastrous morning of her life.

  She reminded herself that she’d certainly survived far worse than Matt’s obvious discomfort. And by the time she’d blow-dried her hair into its usual smooth blond slide, she’d convinced herself that she could, indeed, survive breakfast with Matt McCandless.

  The table from room service was waiting when she exited the bedroom. The television was on, tuned to the Rose Bowl Parade. He muted the sound but kept the picture on as she sat down.

  “The sun’s out,” he announced into the well of silence that had surrounded them again. Terrific, McCandless, Matt blasted himself mentally. As if the lady can’t see that for herself.

  “Yes.” She took a sip of too hot coffee and burned her tongue. On the screen a pair of ice skaters was spinning around on a Plexiglas lake surrounded by orchids.

  “With any luck, the pass’ll be clear and you’ll still be able to spend New Year’s Day with your sister.”

  Who would, Shiloh considered glumly, undoubtedly have a major league hangover. At this point, Shiloh would gladly trade the mother of all hangovers for this strained conversation.

  “I suppose so.” She pretended vast interest in a pink-and-purple polka-dot pig wearing a tutu and dancing to “Swan Lake.”

  Last night Shiloh Beauregard had behaved as if he were the most scintillating conversationalist in the world. This morning he couldn’t even compete with Willard Scott describing a float covered with roses.

  “Want me to turn up the sound?”

  That same dark velvet voice that had murmured such wonderful words in her ear all night long was now edged with aggravation. “No, thank you,” she said politely.

  He watched her fingers tighten around the handle of the cup and realized she was every bit as tense as he felt. Having never been one for beating around the bush, he decided to tackle the probl
em head-on. “Shiloh. Look at me.”

  She did. Reluctantly. He reached across the table and took her hand. He was about to try to let her know last night had been special when a knock at the door caused her to jump.

  “Who is it?” Matt barked in a way that made her cringe.

  “Fletch.”

  Hell. “I’d better see what he wants.”

  She nodded.

  Biting back a pungent curse, he stood up, tossed his napkin onto the table, strode over to the door and flung it open. “What’s up?”

  Fletcher Brown’s expression was as smooth as the ice that had coated the road last night. “I thought Shiloh might like to know the pass is clear. We’re removing the barricades.”

  “Thank you, Fletcher.” Matt couldn’t help noticing that her smile was a lot warmer than the one she’d given him. He also noted her obvious relief. “That is such good news.” She sounded, Matt thought with renewed aggravation, like a condemned woman who’d just received a pardon from the governor.

  “I always like bringing people good news.” Fletch touched the brim of his trooper’s hat. “Happy New Year, Shiloh. Have a safe trip to Aspen.”

  “Thank you, Fletch.” She flashed another genuine smile his way. “And Happy New Year to you, too.”

  Fletch glanced over at Matt. “Happy New Year.”

  Matt grunted, in no mood for pleasantries. What kind of woman could scream her head off with orgasmic pleasure with one man, then turn right around and toss gilt-edged feminine invitations at another the next morning? The Hollywood kind, he reminded himself.

  It didn’t take Fletcher Brown’s investigative police skills to correctly read the situation. “Well, I’ll leave you two to your breakfast,” he said. “Before it gets cold.” Warning Shiloh to drive carefully, he left.

  “I suppose I’d better settle my bill and be on my way,” Shiloh said.

  Conveniently forgetting he wasn’t interested in a long-term affair, Matt was nevertheless irritated by her obvious desire to get out of town as soon as possible.

  “That’d probably be a good idea.” He glanced out the window at the blinding bright sun. “The weather’s tricky up here in the mountains. Another storm front could blow in.”