Ugh.
She spent the next few minutes detailing the authentic Christmas ambience of the ranch, the celebration of Tip’s Eve—making decorations, eating and drinking, laughing and telling stories—and included some pictures she’d taken. There. That was better. She smiled, thinking about how much she’d enjoyed last night.
Have a holiday fling.
She’d never had a fling.
Wait a second...
Jolie rubbed her cheek. There was her lit professor at college. He’d invited her over to his place to help him grade papers; he’d wined and dined her, seduced her. Hmm. Upon reflection, that was probably a fling, though she’d thought it was more—naive girl.
Then there was her brother’s friend Kyle. They’d hooked up a couple of times and—yep, same thing—she’d imagined there was more to it.
What was wrong with her? Hopelessly romantic? Incredibly naive?
Not this time. This time it was going to be different because she knew exactly what she was getting into. A fling. Plain and simple. Nothing else. No expectations, no emotional attachment.
Just a superhot holiday fling.
Jo shut her eyes, replaying the scene under the mistletoe. She knew one thing for sure: she wanted another kiss. No, she wanted more than that, because she’d never felt more alive and more desirable than when Thad had lifted her chin and kissed her.
Jo opened her eyes and reached for her notebook, the words practically falling off her fingertips as her pencil flew over the page. The ideas came so quickly she could barely keep up. Not ideas—it was more like watching a movie inside her head. A supersexy movie. Time lost all meaning when she was like this, and Jo was surprised to find it was ten thirty when she finally closed her journal.
Picking up the pretty paper itinerary that Gloria had given her the first night, instructing her to take part in as many or as few activities as she liked, Jo ran a finger down the list for the day. Eleven o’clock was ice-skating on the pond.
Ice-skating was one thing Jo knew how to do. Too bad she hadn’t brought her own skates. She’d taken figure skating lessons as a kid and though she was no superstar, she had a few skills. Was it wrong that she wanted to show off a little bit for Thad? Let him know she wasn’t inept when it came to all physical activities?
A blinding image of some of the physical activities she’d written about made her pause.
“C’mon, Jo,” she muttered to herself. “You can either sit here and daydream about it, or you can get out there and make it happen.” Her tummy tightened. Jolie Duval was about to have herself a holiday fling.
* * *
DRESSED IN TWO pairs of leggings, a wool sweater, a cap, mitts and parka, Jolie made her way down to the section of the pond that had been cleared for skating. Before she could go through the boxes of used skates to find a pair that fit her, Thad ambled over. She knew it was him by the shadow he cast and by her body’s automatic response to his.
“Do you like history, Ms. Jolie?” What was it about his deep Louisiana drawl that got under her skin—in a good and tingly way?
“Sure,” Jo said, looking up from where she crouched, her heart in her throat.
“Ever seen a ghost town?”
“No.” She stood, her legs feeling awfully strange for some reason.
“What about a dogsled? You ever gone for a ride on one?” Thad came closer, so close she could smell his freshly showered skin, and she noticed his hair was damp.
“Uh...no,” Jo replied slowly. An image of the man in the shower filtered through her consciousness.
“You interested?”
The shower suddenly included her making a guest appearance. It was so clear she could practically smell the soap. The two of them. Together. Naked. Wet...
“Ms. Jolie? Everything okay?”
“Yes,” Jo said, barely seeing the real Thad because the imaginary one in her head was so...naked.
“Good. I’ve got lunch all packed. We can eat when we get there.”
Wait. What? Jo frowned, watching Thad’s retreating back. What had she just agreed to?
Thad was walking toward some sled, where the three hounds from hell were tethered. Oh, God no. Jo jogged to catch up. “Um...when I said yes...”
Thad stopped and turned.
She licked her lips and his gaze dropped to her mouth, which made speaking difficult. “What I meant was...” Her words trailed off because suddenly Thad was naked again—still soapy—and she was itching to touch him.
Strong hands covered hers and Jo realized—too late—that she’d pressed her mittened hands against his oilskin jacket.
“You’re not backing out, are you?”
Jo shook her head.
“Good.” Keeping hold of her hand, he tugged her toward the sled. “Let’s go.”
She was amazed at how easy it was to get over the fact that she was in such close proximity to dogs. Maybe because they were busy pulling the sled and weren’t paying any attention to her. Or—more likely—it was because she was snuggled up in a blanket, drinking homemade hot chocolate from a thermos while Thad drove the sled.
He talked the entire time. Story after story after story. Most about this place, the people who lived here, the history, who owned which ranch, how many cattle. It shouldn’t have been interesting, but there was something about the way Thad told a story—the timbre of his voice, maybe? The cadence?—that kept her spellbound. Of course, the man could read to her from the phone book and she’d probably be enthralled.
They traveled for more than an hour, over fields and across a frozen lake to a logging road that led to something out of an Old West movie. Broken-down carriages, dilapidated structures with wooden facades worn into a smooth gray color from time and the elements.
“This is it,” Thad said as he drove the sled down what would have been the old main street. “This is Silverton.”
“Why doesn’t anyone live here?” she asked, taking photos with her phone’s camera as they moved slowly up the street.
“A couple reasons. Silver prices dropped, the mine shut down, the railroad pulled up its tracks.” Thad pointed to the building they were just passing. On the facade in faded letters was Silverton Station.
“And everyone just up and left?”
“I imagine a few stayed for a while. But then there was a fire. No reason to rebuild. Most went to the cities to start over.” He drove the sled up to a building with a newly painted sign that read Silverton Hotel.
“It seems so odd.”
“There are little towns like this all over the place.” He helped her to her feet and then went to untether the dogs. As soon as they were free, all three took the opportunity to roll around in the snow.
Somehow the hounds didn’t seem quite so hellish as they wriggled around on their backs, legs akimbo, covering themselves in snow. Like three little kids.
Huh.
Kind of cute. Well, that might be a stretch, but at least they weren’t quite as scary.
Backing up so she could get a better picture of the building, Jolie said, “Why does this sign look new?” Upon closer inspection, a number of the places looked like they’d been refurbished, with freshly painted signs: Greely’s Mercantile, Northwestern Bank, Smithson’s Saddle and Tack.
“Half Moon Historic Society has done some work out here. They open to tourists in the summer but shut it down in winter because the road’s impassable.” He squinted. “I prefer it this way.”
�
��Yeah. Me, too.” Jolie wandered to the big boarded up window and tried to peek through one of the cracks.
“You want a tour or lunch first?”
“Lunch then tour.”
They spent the next half hour sitting on the stoop of the hotel, eating leftover soup from thermoses and devouring bacon, lettuce and tomato sandwiches. Jo had enjoyed the soup the first night, but for some reason it tasted even better now. Was it the fresh air or the company?
She glanced up to catch Thad watching her.
“You like your food, don’t you?”
She shrugged. “I’m normally a junk food junkie. But I’ll take this any day of the week.”
“I like a woman who likes...” He didn’t finish, as if he didn’t want to go there.
Too bad, because Jolie wanted him to. She wanted to know more about the kind of woman Thad liked because she highly doubted it was a woman like her. Plain, uncoordinated, scared of dogs...
She straightened her back. But that wasn’t her, not on this trip, anyway. She scooted closer to him, so that their knees were touching. He glanced down, noticing the contact, a small smile lifting one side of his mouth.
“You know, during the gold and silver rush, there were almost ten thousand people who lived here.” He indicated the empty other side of the street. “They’ve only restored a fraction of what was here.”
“Seems so...sad,” Jolie said.
“You don’t find it creepy?”
“No, I love it.” She took a last bite of sandwich, balled up the paper it’d been wrapped in and tucked it in the bag. Pushing herself to her feet, she went to go peek between the shutters of the old building next door. The inside was dark but she could make out shadowy shapes of furniture.
She wandered down to the next building. Thad was only a few steps behind, watching her. “Places like this have so many stories,” she said as she dusted the snow off a bench that sat in front of what was once the barber shop—based on the painted pole—wishing she’d thought to bring her journal. She closed her eyes. “I can hear the ghosts.”
“You talk to ghosts, do you?”
“Maybe.” She grinned, eyes still shut. Tilting her head, listening, as if she really was communing with the spirits.
The bench creaked and Jo felt Thad’s big body sit down beside her. “Tell me, what do the ghosts say?” The words were soft and his breath brushed her skin, making her shiver.
Angling her head to the other side, she tapped her lips. “Hmm.” Then, turning toward the man sitting next to her, she opened her eyes and said, “They say this is the perfect place to hide a body.”
6
Always make sure you are wearing the appropriate clothing for any outing. While designer boots might look cute, they are completely impractical in the mountains.
Jo Duval
THAD CHUCKLED AT her comment, making a sexy rumbling sound deep in his chest. Those startling blue eyes of his gazed into hers before dropping to her mouth. His stare made Jolie rub her lips together, wetting them in the process. Another deep sound from Thad precipitated a tightening in her abdomen until breathing became difficult. The direct result?
Her chest heaved.
Thad’s eyes followed.
He reached for a stray wisp of hair that fluttered across her face and she sucked in a ragged breath; she’d forgotten to breathe again. When he rubbed the strand between his fingertips before tenderly tucking it inside her woolen hat, she let out the breath she’d been holding. While still gazing up into his face, Jo removed a mitten and reached for him. Now that he’d touched her, her fingers needed reciprocation.
Lightly, she traced a line from high up on his cheekbone down to the line of his jaw, loving the scratch of whiskers in between. Such a strong face. Such nice, chiseled lips. She loved how his mouth parted as her fingers danced across their fullness.
“Ms. Jolie?”
“Mmm?”
Thad captured her hand in his big warm one. His voice was deep and rough when he asked, “What are you doing now?”
“What does it feel like I’m doing?”
“Tempting me.” A small smile played at the corners of his mouth.
Jolie extricated her hand from his and ran her thumb over his mouth again. “Good.”
He shut his eyes and sighed, which Jolie took as permission to keep exploring his face.
“Look,” he said softly, opening his eyes. “I don’t know if this is such a good—”
“Why not?” she interrupted, running the backs of her knuckles along his jawline.
Thad blinked, his face hardening into cold stone. “Because I’m not the settling-down type.”
“Neither am I.” How easy the words came to her. Whether she believed them or not was another matter.
His lips curled. “Is that so?”
“Yep.” She drew her fingers down the strong cords of his neck, imagining how muscular his chest must be. Dying to find out.
“So, what is it that you want from me, then?”
“I think you know.”
“Hmm.”
Shifting her gaze to his eyes, she said, “What do you want from me?”
Something flashed across Thad’s rugged features, and Jolie stopped because it looked like pain. He drew his gaze away, staring up at the sky. “There’s the thing I want and then there’s the thing that’s appropriate—”
Oh, for God’s sake, she’d had enough. With her mittened hand, she grasped the collar of Thad’s jacket, tugged him close and kissed the warning right out of his mouth.
For a millisecond his cold lips stiffened under hers and a blast of doubt shot through her, making her pause. But that’s all it was, a millisecond, because Thad made another one of those deep groaning sounds that came from the very base of his chest, rumbling deliciously around in his rib cage so that she could feel the vibration of it. He wrapped a hand around the back of her neck and pulled her to him, kissing her like he meant it, warming up her lips until she parted for him, exploring her mouth like it was wonderfully mysterious, delicious and exciting.
Jolie tore off her remaining mitten and worked her bare hands up under Thad’s jacket, pulling his shirttails out of his jeans so that she could feel skin. Nice, warm, masculine skin. His abs contracted beneath her cold fingertips and he sucked in a breath.
“Sorry,” she whispered against his mouth, not feeling sorry at all.
He pressed her hands to his sides. “Don’t be.” He nibbled her lip. “Feel free to warm yourself up on any old part of me.”
“Really?” She tilted her head back to meet his gaze. Biting down on her bottom lip, she popped the button on his jeans, watching for a reaction.
Thad’s eyes rolled back. “You trying to kill me now?”
“The ghosts did say it was a good place to hide a body.”
Thad’s chuckle was half groan, half laugh, and when Jo went to ease his zipper down—good Lord, the man was aroused—it practically unzipped itself.
“Jo-lie...”
She loved the sound of her name drawn out over a groan. Loved how it tasted, moving from his mouth into hers. While their tongues battled over who owned it, Thad unzipped her parka and worked his hands up under her sweater. She gasped at the sensation of cold hands against the warm skin of her tummy. She moaned when he worked them up higher, sliding up her sides to her breasts, squeezing over her bra first before dipping inside the cups.
His fingers lightly pinched one nipple
then the other and she arched into him, throwing her head back to gasp at the delightful sensation. Thad took advantage of her exposed throat, leaning down to kiss beneath her jaw, as he pushed the cups of her bra down to better access her flesh.
“You are something,” he whispered against her throat before sucking on tender skin.
“Thad...”
She loved his rough touch. Loved how he played with her nipples while nibbling on her jaw and neck. Needing to be closer, she sat up and straddled his thighs. Holding on to his face, she kissed him hard as she ground herself against him.
Suddenly the dogs started barking—she’d completely forgotten about them—and she jumped, mashing her mouth against Thad’s teeth.
“Ow.” She pulled back.
“Dammit.” Thad frowned and blotted her lip, showing her the drop of blood against his thumb. “You okay?”
With a hand to her mouth, Jo nodded. She was okay. More than okay. Fat lip aside, she felt better than she had in a long time.
Taking hold of her hips, Thad maneuvered Jolie to the side so that he could stand. He zipped up his jeans and whistled for the dogs to be quiet. After Jo finished adjusting her bra beneath her sweater, Thad held out a hand, much like he’d done that first night, and said, “We best get back.”
Unlike that first night, Jo took Thad’s hand and allowed him to pull her up, needing to touch him as much as possible. Because of her height, she was often awkward around men. But with Thad? For some reason with him things were different. Maybe it was because he was a tall man himself, or perhaps it was the way he looked at her with a bold and sinful smile. Maybe it was the way he said her name in that delicious Southern accent. Whatever the reason, she felt like a desirable woman when she was with him, and she’d take a fat lip any day if it meant feeling this way.
* * *
DESPITE THE COLD, Thad still felt aroused. Even after the hour-long sled ride back to the ranch. His body responded to Jolie like he’d just hit puberty and she was the woman who starred in every damn one of his wet dreams. It was ridiculous.
A Christmas Seduction Page 6