Under The Mistletoe (Holiday Hearts #2)

by Kristin Hardy

  Moonlight, lamplight, firelight. They’d kissed before. It had rocked her, but somewhere down deep she’d known there would be an end, and she’d taken care not to give herself over to it entirely. Each time, however tenuously, she’d managed to hold on just enough that she could pull herself back. Now she abandoned herself to it. Now she let herself want, gave herself permission to take.

  And the power was more than she’d ever dreamed.

  Moon glow, fire glow and Hadley. It made Gabe dizzy. Her taste had the complexity of fine wine—a sweetness blending into arousal and urgency. Day by day, with weakening control, he’d held back, given her space until the ache for her had become a constant accompaniment to his life. Now, with her mouth eager against his, he fought back a groan. He wanted to take, he wanted to plunder, but in some dim, sane part of his mind he was aware of where they were. Not here, he thought desperately, even as he was compelled to stroke one hand down the smooth line of her back. Not now. But nearby, and soon.

  Then Hadley made a small, incoherent noise and desire sliced through him. “We’ve got to go,” he managed to gasp. “Now.”

  The walk to Cortland House was a journey of fits and starts, halted over and over for feverish kisses because ten steps were too damn long to go without tasting her. Grabbing a passkey and stealing up to an anonymous room in the hotel might have been more immediate, but Gabe didn’t want anonymous. He wanted her in his bed, twisting under him, hot and urgent and wanton.

  And then they were in his hallway, tearing off their coats, the need for holding back gone.

  Gabe’s bedroom was unfamiliar and thrillingly male. They stumbled through the doorway and Hadley pressed him against the wall, driven only to get closer to him, to make her body part of his completely. Impatient, she dived into the kiss without reservation. She felt his hands in her hair, roving down her back, molding themselves around her curves, revealing her own body to her in a way that made it something new. There was something proprietary about the touch. Then she felt him, hard against her, and she made a sound of triumph deep in her throat.

  She wanted him, she wanted skin under her hands, she wanted to explore. Before, she’d never let herself fully want, never acknowledged the driving need that thrummed through her. Now, desire for Gabe was her universe and she wanted it all. She dragged his sweater over his head, running her fingers across his bare chest, laughing in delight at the texture.

  When his hands slipped under her own sweater, she moaned. His fingers framed her rib cage, traveling up her spine. She felt her bra loosen, pulled away so that her silky sweater brushed against her nipples. Then his hand slid up to cover her breast in a move almost shocking in its intimacy.

  She’d had affairs in the past. Men had touched her naked body. Always it had seemed pleasurable, but not earth-shattering. Arousing, but no more so than the brush of her own hands. Now it was as though she’d grown new nerves overnight, so that the contact of skin to skin was an entirely different sensory experience. His fingers on her nipples sent her arching and gasping against him, starting a coil of tension tightening in her, a sweet ache that made her legs tremble.

  Clothing was an impediment, to be thrown aside as quickly as possible. There would be time for patience, but not now. Urgently, she reached for his belt buckle, her fingers clumsy with haste to draw him out, to pleasure him. Silk over steel, pulsing and heavy in her hand. She moved to sink to her knees.

  “Don’t,” Gabe said, pushing her hands away, his voice strangled with the effort of control. “Not now.” He pressed her back toward the bed. When he stripped down her jeans, she felt not vulnerable but powerful. She could see what she did to him, feel the shudder as she traced her fingertips down his belly. Then the feel of his hands on her thighs turned her knees to water and she lay back.

  He had to taste her or he’d go mad. Her skin was luminous, her body long and narrow. She looked fragile but he knew the strength there; the intensity of her response inflamed him. When he would have gone slowly, she urged him on with hands dragging at his shoulders, fingers tangling in his hair. And with his mouth and his hands he sent her tensing, gasping, half sobbing with pleasure.

  Arousal thudded through him as he felt her reaction to every slick caress. Every moan sent a fresh surge of blood pounding into him; the more he gave her the closer to the edge he came himself. Every instinct screamed for him to bury himself in her. Not yet, though. He wanted to take her further, until she was mindless with desire, wanting, knowing nothing but him.

  An instant later, she began to quake against him helplessly, flinging her hands out to clutch the sheets, crying out. Gabe moved up her body, freeing himself roughly, grinding his teeth because even that much contact threatened to be too much. And then he was sliding into her in a rush of sensation that exploded through him even as she was still shuddering.

  She didn’t know if she could bear it. Clinging to him, winding her legs around his waist, Hadley felt the strength and flex and flow of his body surging against hers. And what she thought had ended began to build again. He filled her completely, each stroke a movement in an intimate dance, the movements that originated in his body ending in hers. He stared down at her, his features tight with concentration, and it was as though she could dive inside him, see his pleasure while feeling her own. And it was that that flung her over the edge of climax, her body shuddering with her cries as she fell.

  Leaning on his elbows, his hands tangled in her hair, Gabe thrust himself into her, feeling her hot and slick around him. He ground his teeth, trying to slow it down, trying to stretch it out because he wanted to live in this moment forever, with Hadley beneath him, taut and naked and feverish, Hadley beneath him, tight and wet, Hadley beneath him, all the shadows gone for once, eyes clear and open with room for him alone, for him.

  Hadley beneath him, his.

  She dreamed of walking down the grand staircase of the Hotel Mount Jefferson, her gloved hand on Richard Cortland’s, her long, heavy skirts trailing behind her. “It will be yours one day, Clara,” he said, kissing her hand, his beard bristly against her fingers. And then he looked up and he was Gabe, and the dream began to evaporate even as Hadley struggled to live within it.

  She drifted toward consciousness, becoming distantly aware of her body, heavy and warm against the smooth sheets. An instant later, she realized that the heaviness in her limbs came in part from a warm, male arm and leg thrown over her.

  And at that, she came fully awake. Squeezing her eyes more tightly shut, she resisted the urge to groan as she remembered the night before. She’d been pathetic, weepy, telling him things she’d never told anyone. She’d exposed herself in the most humiliating way possible. I don’t fit anywhere. She sighed and shifted her weight.

  Only to feel the arm tighten around her. “Going somewhere?”

  She opened her eyes to find herself practically nose to nose with Gabe, who gave her a sleepy smile. And her first ridiculous thought was to wonder what it was about dark stubble that made a man look so absolutely ravishing. “Merry Christmas.” He pressed a drowsy kiss on her.

  “Merry Christmas,” she muttered. How could she have slept so late, she who woke at six every morning without fail? Of course, she usually spent the night sleeping, not having sex, but still. Even the times she did have sex she normally tried to be the first one up, preferably in clothes or at least a robe. And that was with official sex, not something like this.

  Whatever “this” was.

  She couldn’t classify it as a one-night stand, she thought wildly. God help her, she knew him far too well. She couldn’t classify it as anything but temporary insanity. “I should get out of here so that you can get going,” she said firmly. She tried to squirm away, but Gabe’s arm only tightened further.

  “Not quite yet.” He pressed his lips against her throat and pulled her closer to his body. Against her hip she felt the velvet stirrings of his erection and froze. One by one, her nerves began to come to attention. Gabe ran the tip of his tongue
along her throat and she felt the shiver in her stomach. Oh no, she thought.

  “You see,” he continued, lowering his head to her breast, “we were in such a rush last night I didn’t really get a chance to explore properly.” Warm and wet, his tongue circled around her nipple. Arousal shot through her like an electric charge. He took the sensitive point into his mouth and Hadley moaned.

  “Of course,” he said, switching to her other breast, “you’re seeming a little tense. Maybe we can do something about that.” Stealthily, his fingers stroked the inside of her thigh in time with the rubbing of his tongue, traveling higher and higher each time until she felt them brush against the first curls of hair, and then higher still. Without conscious volition she began to move her hips. Her arms came up around him.

  And then he found her.

  Gasping, she jolted against his fingers. “Yep,” he murmured, “definitely a little tense. Perhaps we should help relieve some of that.” He leaned over her.

  And with a growl, she reached up to pull his head down to hers.

  Gabe smiled lazily at Hadley, who lay on his chest. “My mother warned me about women like you.”

  “Really?”

  “Yep. She said there would be women who’d just want to use me for my body and leave me weak. Which you did an exceptional job of, by the way.” He curved a muscled arm around her that didn’t feel weak at all.

  It must have been the orgasms, Hadley thought. Somewhere around the second one the shyness had evaporated and she just hadn’t given a damn. So she’d made a fool of herself the night before. She’d survived worse. It was Christmas. She could spend time worrying about it or she could just relax and enjoy the day. “I’m glad you approve,” she said.

  His grin widened. “Oh, I do.” He squinted at the clock and rose. “But as much as I’d like to demonstrate, we should probably get in the shower. It’s nearly eight and we should be at the farm by ten.”

  “You should be at the farm,” she corrected, getting out of bed and rescuing her clothes from the floor.

  “Oh no, you’re coming, too. My mother already invited you.”

  Her mouth dropped open for a minute, then snapped shut. “That was two weeks ago and I declined. I can’t just show up.”

  “Sure you can. She was asking about you yesterday.”

  Not bothering with the bra, Hadley pulled her sweater over her head. “You can’t just bring me without warning. People like to plan, you know? Food? Chairs? Forks? It’s a nice offer but I’ve got a date with the VCR and a frozen pizza.”

  “If you think I’m going to let you sit alone here all day on Christmas, you’re nuts.”

  “I’m not a stray dog, Gabe,” she said with an edge to her voice. “I don’t need taking care of. If I wanted to be around people today, I’d have gone to New York.”

  Not “home,” he realized. She never called it home. “Come on, it’ll be fun. You already know my mom and Jacob.”

  She glowered. “I barely exchanged more than two words with Jacob.”

  “See? He likes you. My mom’s a great cook and J.J. might be there. Shoot, you get sick of people, you can go hang out with Jacob and be antisocial together.”

  A corner of her mouth twitched. “And I should do this why?”

  Gabe rose and walked across the room to pick a small box off of his dresser. He shook it. “If you want to find out what’s in this you have to come to the farm, because that’s the only place you’re going to get it from me.”

  Alarm flickered in her eyes. “Is that a Christmas present?”

  “Yup.”

  “For me?”

  “Yup.”

  “But we…I…but why?”

  “Because I wanted to. Because I like to give presents.” Because he’d wanted to see that sunburst smile.

  “But I didn’t get anything for you.”

  “Having you come to the farm for Christmas is what I want.” He shook the box again. “Just think, if you don’t go you’ll feel horribly guilty, not to mention die of curiosity over what’s in the box.” He waited, waggling his eyebrows encouragingly.

  And she gave in and pressed a smacking kiss on him. “All right, I’ll go. Thank you. That was very sweet.”

  “You don’t even know what it is.”

  “It was still sweet.” She picked up her jeans and lacy panties and headed toward the door, without putting them on.

  “Where are you going?” he asked. Clad in just the tuniclength sweater, she looked leggy and luscious, and he mentally gauged his chances of tumbling her back in bed. Slim at this particular time, he judged. A wise man picked his moments.

  “Upstairs to shower and change.”

  “Like that?”

  “I can get away with it.” She paused at the door to give him a bawdy wink, taking him by surprise. “I’ve got an in with the landlord.”

  And she was gone.

  Chapter Sixteen

  No holiday celebration Hadley had ever attended prepared her for the Trask household. “Who’s here?” she asked, staring at the collection of cars as they drove up to the big farmhouse, which sat down a gentle slope from the gift shop.

  “Oh, my brothers, a few aunts and uncles and cousins, probably a neighbor or two and whoever the cat dragged in.” He parked between a Jeep and a bright red Prius and got out. “No grandkids for my mom, so it’s sort of an all-day open house.” He opened the back door of the truck and pulled out a bulging bag.

  Hadley walked up, letting herself enjoy just looking at him. He wore charcoal jeans and a black jacket with a pine-colored cashmere sweater that showed the white of his shirt at the neck. For a change of pace, apparently, he’d trimmed his three-day stubble into a Van Dyke that brought out the strong line of his jaw. “Playing Santa?”

  He gave her a wolfish wink and scooped her up against him with his free arm. “I got a present for you right here, baby,” he said in an Elvis voice.

  “Stop it.” Hadley pushed his hands away. “You don’t do this kind of thing in front of your family.”

  He nibbled at her neck. “That’s why I’m doing it now.” And then his lips covered hers and every thought slid out of her head. How could a man’s mouth be so soft, so clever? How could he know just how to kiss her so that—

  “Hey, Gabe,” said a female voice with the sound of an opening door. “Merry—” Her words cut off and she cleared her throat. “Well, I see it’s already a very merry Christmas.”

  Hadley looked up to see a woman standing on the steps to the side porch, her arms crossed over her chest. Her sweater matched the scarlet ribbon that tied back her glossy brown hair; her eyes sparkled with devilry.

  Gabe released her. “Lainie, this is Hadley. Hadley, this is my cousin Lainie, who’s going to forget she ever saw anything.”

  Lainie came down the stairs toward them. “In your dreams.” But she grinned and hugged Gabe before sticking her hand out to Hadley. “Nice to meet you. Smart girl. You picked the one who actually knows how to dress properly.”

  “I didn’t—” Hadley began, but Lainie had already whirled and dashed back inside.

  “She’s a witch.” Gabe winked. “She probably got a funny feeling.”

  Lainie stuck her head back out. “I am not a witch. I just work at the museum. Stop telling lies.” She slammed the door.

  He grinned at Hadley’s puzzled frown. “See? Now you’ve got something to talk about.”

  Warm wood, tantalizing scents, a massive table groaning with food. It was everything Hadley thought a farmhouse kitchen should be. The place was less formal than Cortland House, and even more welcoming, if that were possible. The personality of Molly Trask showed in everything from the violets on the windowsill to the polished copper pots hanging from the overhead beams. It wasn’t just a house, it was a home.

  A home currently alarmingly full of people.

  “Hadley!” Molly took both of her hands and then pulled her near for a kiss. “Merry Christmas. I’m so glad you could come. Merry Christ
mas, Gabriel.”

  He squeezed her. “Merry Christmas.”

  Hadley cleared her throat. “I brought you something.” She pulled out the package she’d hastily wrapped, and hoped that Molly didn’t notice the fact that the paper was used.

  “You shouldn’t have,” Gabe’s mother scolded.

  “I wanted to.”

  “Well, you’re very sweet.” Molly tore off the paper to reveal a cranberry glass faerie lamp Hadley hadn’t been able to resist buying at an antique shop. Molly beamed. “Oh, it’s lovely. I know just where it’ll go.” This time she gave Hadley a long, hard hug.

  Gabe stared at Hadley and the lamp. Then he blinked as though remembering himself. “Let’s get you introduced to everyone else. So you know Ma, you’ve met Lainie.” Lainie, peeling potatoes, waved. “This is my aunt Carol and my cousin Albie and his sister Debbie and his wife, Susan.”

  Gabe stopped and stared at the doorway. Hadley turned to see a dark-haired man leading a lovely redhead. A slow smile spread over Gabe’s face. “And this,” he announced, “is my brother Nick and his friend Sloane.”

  “Not friend, significant other,” Nick corrected, pulling Sloane in close to him.

  “Significant other?” She raised a brow.

  He kissed her temple. “Very significant. Remind me to demonstrate later.”

  In the living room, Christmas cards crowded the mantel-piece; what looked like an antique children’s rocking horse sat near the hearth. The tree was festooned with a mix of ornaments, some clearly handmade. And it was equally clear that the farmhouse was the center of the Trask universe, drawing the entire extended family back, year after year.

  Appetizers and drinks began to circulate. People flowed through the door, every one of whom Gabe seemed to know. At first, Hadley shook hands and repeated the names to herself, trying to keep them straight. Somewhere along the line, she abandoned the effort and stuck with smiles.

  After an hour of it, she stumbled into the kitchen for a glass of water and a few moments of silence. They didn’t last long; Lainie walked into the kitchen carrying a towheaded toddler. An impatient toddler.