“Oh?” she arched, coming closer to the window.
The winter breeze puckered her nipples through the thin material of her top. God have mercy. His breath fogged on the glass as he softly demanded, “Let me in.” Not bothering to shield the desire in his gaze, he waited. Their eyes locked, and her lips parted at the underlying urgency in his voice.
Then she slammed the window shut. “You’re letting the heat out.” The statement came through muffled from the closed window.
“You’re not going to open the door?”
“No.”
No? He gave her a look that said I don’t think so. Crossing his arms, he sighed, blowing out a stream of white, wintry breath. “I thought you weren’t mad at me anymore.”
“I wasn’t, but the fact you made me wait for over an hour renewed that feeling.”
Pressing his hands around the sill, he leaned in. “One of the project managers needed me. There was an emergency. Took a while to get everything sorted.”
“Oh. Well, all right, I understand.”
“Good. Now…” He gestured for her to go ahead and open up.
She shook her head. “While I know what kept you, it doesn’t change the fact it’s late. And…” She hesitated. “I think we could both use some space tonight.”
Speak for yourself. With no intention of going home, he determined one way or another, he’d be in there with her. “Space? Does this have to do with what happened this afternoon?”
“A little.”
Women. They claim they aren’t mad, but still harbor grudges. “I’m not leaving. And I will get inside the guesthouse, even if it’s for a few minutes so we can talk. It’s freezing out here. Now you can make this easy and open the door or I can wake up the main house for the spare key.” He set his feet, expression utterly serious, hands on hips.
The considerate and rational woman she was, Mason knew she wouldn’t want him disturbing his parents or the staff. Moreover, she was well aware he would do it. He wasn’t a bluffer, not when it came to something he wanted. Little would stop him, including the inconvenience of waking a relative.
Her pretty mouth quirked, shoulders slumped, and she swiveled on a heel toward the door. Mason lowered his chin with a private smile of triumph as he walked over, quick to erase the smugness from his face before she opened the door.
There was a slight smell of smoke in the air as he stepped in. A few recently snuffed candles had been set around the living room, two wine glasses were on the table and an unopened bottle of Shiraz sat beside them. She’d left the Christmas lights on, and the room was cast in a dim, sensual glow. He would never again think of Christmas as only a child’s holiday; Greta had made the season sexy and fun. The little touches of the wine and candlelight told him she’d wanted to make the night special, and the guilt he hadn’t been able to come over sooner swam in his stomach. “I’m sorry I didn’t let you know I’d be late,” he apologized in a low, sincere tone after she closed the door.
The apology seemed to surprise her somewhat, and her expression softened as she came around to face him. “It’s all right. Things come up.”
He kicked the snow of his boots, stooping to untie them. “I didn’t mean to scare you by coming in through the window.”
“Yes! About that. I heard your knock.”
“Then why didn’t you answer?”
“You gave me all of two seconds! I had to get dressed.”
“You mean you weren’t sleeping in that?”
Pursing her lips, she crossed her arms. “You know what I sleep in.”
She had been naked. Man, he was good. After taking off his shoes, he straightened, eager to clear the air. “About this afternoon—”
“We don’t have to discuss it,” she rushed in.
“On the contrary, I think it’s necessary. To get a few things straight.”
Defensiveness crossed her features, and a bit of color stained her cheeks. She didn’t want to talk about their little tiff, and frankly neither did he, but he was not the kind of man to dismiss disagreements, no matter how minor. “First, I want you to know I don’t need or want variety. I have no intention of asking Shannon or any woman out on a date. She’s a friend. You shouldn’t interpret what she wants; you should keep in mind what I want. That’s you. I don’t know what kind of guys you’re used to, but I don’t play that game. While I can’t claim to be the most honorable man on the planet, jumping from one woman to another isn’t my style and never will be. You’re the only one I want to spend time with.” He cleared his throat, hoping she wouldn’t shut him out. “That being said, if you want me to back off and give you space, I will.” Watching her, he softly asked, “Do you want me to go, Greta?”
She waited a few moments, and his insides squeezed uncomfortably tight waiting for her reply.
“No,” she finally spoke. “I don’t need space. There will be plenty of that when I leave.”
A great relief washed over him. “Good. And I want to apologize about what I said. That I was skeptical you wouldn’t leave without saying good-bye. I didn’t mean it.” He combed his fingers through his hair, shifting his gaze down. “The thought you’d disappear and I’d never get the chance to see you off—”
“I was jealous,” she blurted.
He raised his gaze slowly, unsure if he’d heard her correctly. “What?”
She shrugged, as if she didn’t care about the consequences of her admission, folding her hands in front of her with a prideful air. “You were right. I was jealous about Shannon. I thought if I—pushed you into her arms, it would show I didn’t care.” She let out a breath, hung her head. After a moment, she raised it, shrugging, “But I do care. I want you all to myself. While I’m here.”
Well, I’ll be damned. Probably a first for Greta. He’d only been teasing her about being jealous, but now that he knew, it pleased him to hear it for some reason. “I’m all yours, Greta, and you’re all mine, for another five days. By the way, you couldn’t push me into Shannon’s arms if you used a snowplow. I’m glad we’re on the same page.” He smiled, plucked off his leather gloves and removed his jacket, ready to move on to less talking, more touching.
As she turned around to switch on her radio, he sauntered up behind her, snatched her hand and spun her around. Eyes wide, she grinned as she crashed into him. Was she taken aback at his urgency? He’d gone through an entire afternoon and most of the evening without her in his arms. Yeah, enough of that.
He kissed her long, snaking his hands around the small of her back. Taking in her light scent, he inhaled deep…she smelled so good. The kind of scent one had to get close to notice—a subtle, unique and intoxicating scent he’d forever associate with Greta. He gave an involuntary moan when she broke away. He dipped to her neck, opening his mouth and tasting her soft skin with strong, hungry samplings. Moving his hands under her top, he sought to free her breasts from her lacy bra.
She let out a quick yelp and gasped. “Your hands are like ice.”
“Sorry.”
Her breathless laugh only fueled his desire. “You should warm up first.”
“I’m pretty hot already,” he told her in a daze, his voice raspy, licking his way up her throat.
“Well, unluckily for you, I like a man with warm body parts.”
With a groan of disapproval, he fought to rein in his lust, and resolve this issue quickly. He could make love to her frozen, but he understood cold hands weren’t a huge turn-on. “I’ll make a fire.”
She smiled, pleased. “I’ll open the wine.”
As he got comfortable on the sofa while Greta retrieved the Shiraz, he thought he could get used to this. A sexy woman, a nice fire on a cold night and vintage vino on the way. What more could a man want?
Smiling down at him, she poured him a glass and he accepted it. “Thanks.”
Instead of joining him on the
sofa, she sat on the floor leaning against it, and tucked her legs beneath her.
“There’s plenty of room, you know,” he told her.
“You look so comfy stretched out. I’m fine down here.” She rested her elbow on the edge of the couch, leaning her head in her hand, her wine in the other. The firelight behind her gave her an angelic glow, highlighting the loose strands from the messy pile of hair atop her head. No make-up. No jewelry. No elaborate hairdo.
Mason smiled, fingered a tendril of hair between his fingers. “You’re beautiful, you know that?”
Her eyes twinkled as she took a sip of wine. “It’s the lighting.”
He chuckled, skimming his fingers under her chin. “It’s you.” Normally, he wasn’t this affectionate or romantic. He usually kept his admiration to himself, preferring to show his appreciation in the bedroom. With Greta however, he didn’t want to keep much hidden. Maybe because he enjoyed openly flattering her whenever he could. Making her smile felt like a reward.
They made light chitchat, talking about everything from wine vineyards to small-town politics, and had a lighthearted debate of ice cream versus frozen yogurt. It was easy to talk to Greta; she made him laugh, intrigued him with her life experience, and most of all, made him feel like he could be himself and relax. She didn’t need to be charmed or impressed every second of every hour like some.
“What would you like to do tomorrow?” he asked after a silence settled. The fire had died in the hearth. How long had they been talking? “I’m going to the office for a couple hours, but I’m open for lunch and beyond.”
She perked up. “Oh! I almost forgot. I need a ride in the afternoon.”
“Where to?”
“The rec center. The one by the junior high? Sophie said you would know. I’m volunteering for the Sandwich Club.”
“No kidding. My mom helped organize the committee a while back. I think she’s moved on to new projects, though.”
“I’m not surprised your mom had a hand in it. She’s busier than the Queen of England. Anyway, Sophie volunteered my time. They need another adult to watch over the kids while they play. Join me?”
“I’ll pass, but I’ll definitely be your reliable chauffer to and from.”
She gave the cutest, sexiest pout. “You won’t come play with me?”
Now that could change a man’s mind but he did have a short list of things to take care of. “I’ll play with you tomorrow night, I promise.”
“Fine,” she relented, giving up easily. “I have an agenda anyway, and you’ll just be in the way.”
“Oh really?” he half-laughed. “Do I want to know about this little agenda?” He started to smile as she got up, slinking herself into his lap, running her hands up his chest.
“I think you’ll be interested in something else now,” she purred, bending over as her breasts brushed his pecs. His breathing changed as she raked her fingers in his hair. Instantly drunk on her sudden seduction, he slid his hands up her silky pajamas, and stuck his hands inside the hem, caressing her smooth, panty-free bottom. His shaft stiffened, bulging.
Kissing him, Greta smoothed her palm down the length of him, simultaneously dancing her tongue with his. “You’re good and warm now,” she whispered.
“Oh I’m warm. And I’m pretty good.”
Her husky laugh changed to a gasp as he suddenly flipped her to her back and shoved her top over her breasts. Hungrily, he licked her lace-covered nipple, and she arched, moaning, trembling. Her uninhibited response aroused him deeply, the incredible rush of lust racing through his veins, starved for her. His fingers moved down her stomach, inside the waistline of her pants, and farther until he felt her slick center. God, she was so wet already. An involuntary tremor coursed through him as he strummed his finger between the delicate folds. Her breath quickened, fingers clenching. Tugging the lace of her bra over with his other hand, he caught the peak in his teeth gently, circling his tongue around before capturing the nipple with a tug. “Yes…” she approved with undisguised need.
Mason sunk into her, pressing his body between her legs. He was addicted to every taste he could get, each sound of pleasure she made, every tremble. He sat up, caught her wrists and pulled her off the couch. He took her hand in his, kissed it then led her upstairs.
As they climbed, he heard her sigh. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s tomorrow already,” she drawled, seeming a little tipsy from the wine. “Time is going too fast.”
She looked completely, wonderfully tousled from their brief foreplay on the sofa. He squeezed her hand, in complete agreement. “I’ll be sure to go slow tonight.”
Chapter Fourteen
Greta warmed her hands on the to-go coffee mug as Mason drove her to the rec center. They’d stopped by Galore to visit with Leo’s daughter and son-in-law, who were happy to tell her Leo would be coming home that day. She couldn’t wait to see her favorite Italian on his feet and back in the shop, which his daughter assumed would be as soon as the doctor signed the release papers. He hardly had to worry about the state of his business, however. It was in impeccable shape and his daughter made a mean cappuccino. Even though it was almost two o’clock in the afternoon, Greta needed the extra boost of caffeine.
Mason kept her up late last night. A shiver ran through her, recalling how he took her body and soul to new heights, until the early hours before dawn. It’d taken serious effort to peel herself out of bed this morning. Mason had left promptly at eight, showered and spent a couple hours at the company before returning. She’d barely gotten one eye open with a cup of coffee when he’d bounded in, fresh and handsome, teasing her about sleeping in all day. Where did the man find the energy? Perhaps snaring only a few hours of precious sleep was nothing to him, but she was worn out. A wonderful kind of worn out, but still. The man was insatiable, she thought as she hid her smile by taking a sip of cappuccino.
“Are you sure you’re up for this?” Mason asked, interrupting her thoughts of his sexual prowess.
“I hope so,” she joked. Sophie had loaned her a pair of running shoes, which Greta wore with jeans and a faded 1998 Swan’s Crossing Winter Festival sweatshirt. Not the most flattering ensemble, but who cared about being dans le style when playing with children? Even with her wool hat and gloves, she was cold to the bone. The temperature hadn’t risen above ten degrees yet. Hopefully running around with a bunch of energetic kiddies would warm her up fast.
“What are your plans for the next two hours?” she asked Mason.
“I have a few errands to run. To the bank. Post office. Nothing exciting.” He made a turn into the rec center parking lot. He shifted the car into park and smiled. “Have fun.”
With a light laugh, she leaned over and kissed him. “Thanks for the lift.”
As she started to climb out, Sophie’s crush emerged from the door, grinning with a wave.
“Who’s that?” Mason asked, brows furrowing.
“Dr. Kessman. He’s one of the volunteers.”
“Yeah? How do you know him?”
“I don’t. I met him yesterday at the hotel. He and Sophie are friends.”
Mason regarded the smiling doctor with a slight frown. Did he have something against a man he didn’t even know? That made no sense. “He’s the only one I know here, so he said he’d show me the ropes. You’ve never met him?”
“It’s not that small of a town,” he remarked on a dry note.
“Oh. Well, he’s very nice. Your sister had nothing but great things to say about him,” she added then slid out of her seat. “See you later.”
She shut the door and walked toward the entrance. Blake was wearing a hoodie and basketball pants, appearing even younger than he had the day before. She’d always thought doctors of a serious nature and mannerisms, but this one blew that stereotype. “Hey Greta.”
“Hi again,” she greeted with a warm smi
le.
“Come on in.” He held the door wide open, and she could hear distinct squeals and laughter of children inside. “You’re right on time. We’re about to start a game of dodgeball.”
“Goodness. I haven’t played that since I was in school.”
“I’m afraid that means we won’t go easy on you.”
She laughed. “Now I’m scared!”
He pointed two fingers to her eyes, feigning a businesslike expression. “Don’t let them see the fear, Greta.”
She laughed again, tucking her purse behind a desk. Blake released the door, and a second later it swung open with a whoosh of cold air blasting through the entry. Mason walked in. “I’d like to volunteer, too. If that’s all right with you of course.” Turning to Blake, he held out his hand, with an expression that dared the man to disapprove. “How’s it going? Mason Renclair.”
They shook hands. The doctor seemed a bit confused. “Uh. Welcome. Blake Kessman. You’re Sophie’s brother, right?”
Mason nodded sharply like a general.
Blake’s smile was genuine. “Good to meet you. Your sister has talked about her family quite a bit. She’s a great gal.”
“Oh?” Mason cast his gaze around as though casing the place, completely oblivious to Blake’s comment on his sister.
Greta eyed Mason with slight suspicion. What brought this sudden change of heart? She glanced between the two men. Then it hit her. Mason had witnessed the attractive pediatrician greet Greta and had gone full caveman on her. She almost laughed out loud. “Are you sure it’s okay Mason tags along last minute, Dr. Kessman?”
Blake shrugged with a short nod. “More hands on deck the better. Besides, he’s Sophie’s brother. I’ll give you guys the grand tour. You can tell this is where everyone throws their backpacks and coats. Try not to trip on anything,” he advised with a chuckle. Through the double doors, he turned right and led them to the playroom. A gang of elementary-aged kids crashed into his legs, clinging to him and asking questions all at once.
While Blake was distracted, Greta linked her arm in Mason’s. “Spill. What changed your mind?”
Wrapped Up in a Beau Page 15