‘You should have said.’
‘I wanted to try something different.’ He took another mouthful, giving himself time to consider whether to expand on that statement. ‘I’ve been in a rut these last few years,’ he said finally, hoping his honest admission would bring them back to where they’d been before the whole blasted Christmas thing had blown up in his face. ‘It’s high time I climbed out of it. Experienced new things.’ He recalled his wandering thoughts since he’d met Faith. How he’d pictured them naked together. Please don’t let her see how far his mind had taken the whole new experiences theme.
She made a small humming noise. ‘What type of experiences did you have in mind?’
Her eyes were on her plate so he couldn’t judge whether she was asking him straight, or whether she was teasing him. Or God forbid, she knew exactly what experiences he’d been contemplating and was angry at him for thinking she was that easy.
‘I’m not sure,’ he said cautiously. ‘I’m just trying to be more open-minded about anything that might come my way.’
Finally her hazel gaze locked onto his. ‘Like taking a woman out to dinner?’
‘Exactly.’ There was more, so much more he’d started to fantasise about since meeting her, but he couldn’t just assume they were heading that way.
They ate in silence for a few minutes until Adam finally couldn’t stand it any more. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said when he’d finished his last mouthful. ‘I kind of put a damper on the evening which was absolutely the last thing I wanted to do.’
‘No.’ Then she laughed. ‘Okay, yes, you did a bit. But we don’t have to let it spoil anything. Besides, you already told me Christmas brings up bad memories for you and yet I mentioned it anyway. It’s more my fault than yours.’ She sat back, eyeing him under her lashes. ‘So, do you want dessert?’
His heart began to race. Was the look, the smile she was giving him, suggesting what he hoped it was?
Or was he heading for disappointment and a tiramisu?
‘Dessert sounds … good. What do you suggest?’
‘We can ask Becky to bring the menu over. Or …’ Her eyes flicked up to his, big and bold and beautiful. ‘We can see what I can find in my place.’
Desire flooded through him, reaching a pulsing crescendo between his legs. ‘The second option,’ he croaked, feeling suddenly very hot. ‘Please,’ he added, aware it might sound like he was begging, though at this stage he didn’t care.
Her smile promised every one of his fantasies.
Chapter Nine
Faith’s heart raced wildly as she led the way through the hotel towards her own rooms at the back.
She was being rash. Irresponsible. Inviting a guest back to her private rooms – what had she been thinking? But that was the whole damn problem. Thinking hadn’t come in to it.
They passed by the huge Christmas tree and she snuck a covert glance in Adam’s direction, wondering what he thought as he saw it. Let’s face it, there was no missing it.
His eyes were staring straight ahead, as if he was determinedly avoiding any connection with it, and she experienced a small kernel of unease. Something horrible had happened to him around Christmas time, something he clearly didn’t want to talk about.
It’s none of your business. This, if it happens at all, if neither of us get cold feet after opening the door, is at the most a quick fling.
Adam would be going home in just over a week. She didn’t need to know his past. Just that she liked what she saw. And if she wanted to do something about that, it needed to be soon, or the moment was lost.
Her hand trembled slightly as she drew out her key. For all her flirting, making the first move, quick flings weren’t her style. She preferred to know the man she was taking to bed.
Then again, she’d never met a man like Adam. A man of such quiet intensity, such raw masculinity. She didn’t need to know him, to want him.
Slotting the key into the lock, she was aware of every inch of his large, muscular frame standing behind her. She felt the heat of him down her back, the scent of him enveloping her as she pushed the door open.
There was a moment of pulsing, heavy silence as they walked inside. The door clunked shut behind them and a shiver of lust ran down her spine. She had to clear her throat before she could speak. ‘Would you like a quick tour?’
The words were barely out before his lips came crashing down on hers.
Definitely not shy then, was her first thought. Other thoughts were swept away as he plundered her mouth, kissing her passionately, thoroughly, hungrily. Effortlessly he lifted her so their mouths were at the same height, his hard thighs pressing on hers as he eased her against the wall. Now he had leverage, he released one of his hands from around her waist, moving it restlessly up and down her side as his mouth continued its devastating attack. It was as if he wanted to explore further, wanted to slip his hand under her top, find her skin, but was holding himself back.
Finally, on a long, deep groan, he pulled back, his huge chest heaving as he held tight to her hips and allowed her to gently slide down the wall.
‘Wow.’ It was the best she could manage, though it seemed entirely appropriate.
A hint of a smile touched his eyes, mingling with the lingering heat. ‘I’ve been wanting to do that all evening. I couldn’t wait any longer.’
‘You won’t get any complaints from me.’ She ran a hand across his cheek, dipping down to touch his neat beard. ‘I expected it to be harsher. More of a scratch than a caress.’
‘You’ve not kissed a man with a beard before?’
‘No. I’ve only been as far as one day old stubble.’
Smoky eyes lingered on hers, feeling as much of a caress as his hands. ‘Then I’m honoured to be your first.’
‘First guest, first bearded kiss.’ She laughed softly, leaning into him, wanting to feel more of those sinfully hard muscles. ‘Am I your first anything?’
‘Second.’ The moment the word was out his eyes slammed shut and he exhaled sharply.
‘Second?’ He surely didn’t mean …
He drew in a ragged breath, taking a step back. ‘I don’t know why I said that. I wish I hadn’t.’ He dragged a hand through his hair, then down his face.
He looked so pained, her heart bumped a little inside her chest, as if trying to reach out to him. ‘Said what?’
He let out a short, sharp, laugh. ‘Thank you.’
Because he looked like he was trying to find his balance, she took him by the hand and led him through to her small sitting room. Unlike the guest rooms in the hotel, she’d left this room much as it might have looked when it was the cottage adjoining a working mill. The inglenook fire was original, though she’d added the wood-burning stove. The bricks on the outer walls and the big oak beams supporting the ceiling had been left exposed. Cosy, was how she’d wanted it and cosy was how it felt. With a nod to the time of year she’d added strings of fairy lights around the fireplace, hung large gold bells along the wall and tied red velvet bows around the beams. She hadn’t added a tree, but only because there wasn’t enough room for the type of tree she loved.
‘Take a seat,’ she told him, indicating the squishy deep red velvet sofa. ‘Would you like a drink? Some actual dessert?’
Sinking his long frame onto the sofa he cursed under his breath. ‘I appear to be an expert at putting a damper on things.’
‘No, not a damper.’ Inside she was still thinking second. Would she seriously only be the second woman he’d been with? Perhaps it was no wonder he was having trouble finding his feet. ‘Just a small pause, while we draw breath.’ He hung his head, not looking at her. It was almost too much to bear, seeing this giant of a man appearing so vulnerable. ‘Don’t feel you have to stay.’
His head snapped up. ‘I want to.’ He shook his head, laughing harsh
ly. ‘Shit, this is going from bad to worse.’ His eyes finally reached out to her, almost pleading with her. ‘I’m exactly where I want to be.’
‘Good.’
‘Unless you count your bedroom.’ That quiet intensity was back, burning its way through her. ‘That would be my first choice.’
Her shoulders relaxed and she smiled. ‘How about I get us a drink and we work our way from there?’
As he watched Faith leave the room, Adam sagged against the sofa. He was making such a spectacular balls up of this and she was being so … kind. So patient with him. Still, he felt like an epic failure. A shell of a man. How had he come to this, unable to be with a woman he fancied without making an arse of himself?
And had he really just admitted, if he ever did manage to get her into bed, which was looking less and less likely, that she’d be only the second woman he’d slept with?
He had no time to kick himself further as she was back, two glasses of whisky in her hand. Two tail-wagging mutts by her side. ‘Sorry. These two weren’t prepared to stay in the kitchen. Said they wanted to say hello again to their would-be owner.’
Adam let out a short laugh and, grateful for the diversion, bent to give the dogs the attention they were looking for. Faith handed him his whisky before perching on the armchair opposite. As the dogs leapt up to snuggle down next to her, Adam took a grateful swig of his drink, feeling it burn down his throat.
‘Mince pie? Or does your dislike of Christmas mean you can’t stand them, either?’
Oh bugger. He gave her an apologetic smile. ‘If mince pies were associated with Easter I still wouldn’t touch them.’
She looked almost offended. ‘But they’re delicious. All that scrummy dried fruit and spices, a hint of brandy, covered with melt-in-the-mouth pastry.’
‘Shriveled old fruit and mixed peel.’ He shuddered. ‘And don’t start me on the suet.’
‘I’ll keep my mince pies to myself then.’ Her eyes met his over the top of her glass. ‘You sound like a man who knows his way round a kitchen.’
He thought of Damon and his mickey taking. Should he admit he enjoyed cooking, or did that make him look soft? ‘I’ve been known to follow the odd recipe.’ He thought it wise to keep Nigella out of it.
‘I admire anyone who can cook, I’m pretty hopeless.’ A teasing light entered her eyes. ‘I can just imagine you in a pinny.’
As he didn’t know quite what to say to that, he took another sip of his drink.
‘So.’ She let the word hang for a moment and tension knotted his shoulders as he waited for the killer question. ‘What do you think of my quarters?’
The breath he’d been holding fizzed out of him and his shoulders sagged in relief. She could have asked anything. God knows, with his inept fumbling every time she mentioned Christmas, and his admission that she would be only his second, he’d opened himself up to a multitude of questions. He saw every one of them in her eyes when she looked at him.
‘It’s cosy.’ Because he was so grateful for the innocuous opening, he expanded where he would usually keep quiet. ‘Warm and welcoming. The sort of place you can step into and instantly relax.’ The sentiment fitted her, too, but he knew better than to say as much. Cosy wasn’t a word women wanted to be called, though he meant it as a high compliment. She relaxed him, made him feel he could actually open up to her. If he ever sorted his head out enough to try.
‘That’s how I feel about it too.’ She sounded pleased and he thanked God he’d got one thing right tonight. ‘The original owners plastered all the walls but I asked the builders to go back to the brickwork. It wasn’t practical to do all the rooms. Perhaps one day.’
Her eyes took on a dreamy look and he smiled. ‘Why do I get the feeling you have further plans for this place?’
‘Ah, because you can read me like a book?’
He wished he could. Wished he knew what she was thinking as she made small talk with him in her private quarters. ‘What comes next then?’
In what had to be an unconscious movement she leant forward, her face animated. ‘The Old Mill is currently L-shaped. I see it being a quadrangle one day, with another wing of rooms on one side and, to complete the square, an indoor pool.’ Her eyes glinted with amusement as she glanced at him. ‘Maybe even a proper gym.’
‘Careful. I might be back.’
Her gaze didn’t stray from his. ‘I’d like that.’
Immediately his pulse kicked up a gear and his tongue felt like a useless lump in his mouth, unable to form any coherent words. As he’d already made such a mess of things by speaking, perhaps now was the time for action.
Carefully, deliberately, he put down his glass and slowly rose to his feet. Her pretty hazel eyes followed his movements, widening as he walked towards her and held out his hand.
She immediately clasped it, hers feeling so small in his huge palm as he pulled her gently to her feet. The dogs cocked their heads up and gave him a long look, which Adam studiously ignored. ‘I want to kiss you again,’ he murmured, staring down at her, watching those gorgeous lips part as if on reflex the moment he said the word kiss.
‘I’d like that, too.’ He was relieved to hear the huskiness in her voice. He wasn’t the only one feeling this. But as he bent to kiss her, she let out a little laugh. ‘I think I need a step.’
It took him a second to realise what she was saying. As soon as he did, he placed a hand under each of her thighs and lifted her. Instantly her legs wrapped around his, placing her core snug against the part of him that was crying out to be touched.
She bit into her bottom lip. ‘That works, too.’
‘You feel incredible,’ he whispered hoarsely, showering kisses across her face, loving the feel of her thighs wrapped around him, the curve of her under his hands.
‘I could say the same.’ Her hands wandered across his shoulders, down his arms, feeling his muscles. ‘I can see the advantages of investing in a gym.’
Laugher spluttered out of him, and with it the last of his remaining tension. Suddenly he didn’t feel like a man hopelessly out of practice at making love to a woman. He felt like a bloody God. ‘Now I wish I’d had the tour,’ he muttered, bending to give her a long, thorough kiss. ‘Which way is the bedroom?’
She drew away from him long enough to nod behind her.
With her secure in his arms he walked purposefully through to the back room. He barely noticed the lilac tartan curtains, the further exposed brickwork. The plush purple velvet armchair positioned by the window.
All he saw was the giant wooden bed, topped by a white duvet and a mountain of cushions in various shades of pink, purple and blue.
‘Kick the door shut,’ she murmured, her lips nuzzling his neck. ‘Unless you want a canine audience.’
He shut the door firmly with his shoulder before marching towards the bed, dragging the cushions out of the way before he lay her down. Then he climbed over her and saw nothing but Faith, her eyes sparkling up at him, the sexy smile on her lips. Curls a riot around her face.
‘You’re beautiful,’ he managed, his voice hoarse.
Her smile grew wider. ‘That’s flattery, but I’ll take it.’
His eyes feasted on her as he slid her dress from her shoulders, revealing a pink lace bra and soft, cream-coloured skin. As he touched her warm flesh his hand stilled and for a brief moment he was taken back in time to the only other woman he’d ever touched.
Faith’s hand cupped his face, drawing his eyes to hers. ‘Are you okay?’
Determinedly he shoved all thoughts of the past aside. ‘Better than okay,’ he croaked, smoothing his hand over her body, loving the small tremor that shot through her. ‘Better than I’ve been in a long time.’
To stop any questions she might have asked, and because he wanted to more than he wanted his next breath, Adam touc
hed his lips against hers. He tried for gentle, tried for the slow approach, but like a spark in a bone-dry forest, within seconds his passion was burning hot and heavy.
His hands fumbled as he inelegantly undressed her. ‘Sorry,’ he muttered, wondering where the hell his finesse had gone. He used to have some, once upon a time.
Again, her hand cupped his face. ‘If you apologise once more this evening, I’m going to … going to …’
She huffed and he felt a smile creeping over his face. ‘Yes?’
Her gaze slid over his large arms, down across the muscles of his chest. ‘You might be bigger than me—’
‘And stronger,’ he cut in.
‘And stronger,’ she agreed. ‘But I’m a woman. We’re devious. All those feminine wiles. You don’t want to cross me.’
He dipped to plant another kiss on her mouth. ‘What I want,’ he told her softly, ‘is to make love to you.’
He felt the heat of her breath against his face as she let out a gentle sigh. ‘I want that too.’
Then her hands were on his shirt, wrestling with buttons, pushing it off his shoulders. Her technique was more energetic than smooth and watching her determination turned him on even more. Suddenly he realised Faith didn’t need a sophisticated technique or smooth moves. She wanted an honest, real connection.
And that, he could give her.
Chapter Ten
Faith gaped as she stared at the beautifully ripped body she’d unwrapped. Never, in all her fantasies, had she dreamt up a body to rival the one now braced above her. And though she’d seen a hint of the muscles beneath his clothes, to have them revealed, to be able to slide her hand along the hard ridges and dips, blew her mind.
‘Did I tell you what a huge fan I am of weights,’ she whispered, running her palm over his biceps, up to his bunched shoulder muscles and then down across his well-defined chest.
His muscles twitched at her touch, and a shiver of arousal ran through her.
‘Then all the hours I’ve put in have been worthwhile.’ His heated gaze held hers, the grey eyes darkening as he ground his hips against hers.
A Little Christmas Faith (Choc Lit) Page 8