A Dangerously Sexy Christmas

by Stefanie London

  “I thought we’d established that I don’t know anything useful.” She tried to pull her hands away but he held her in place.

  “You don’t want to know anything. If you’d just trust me enough to open up a little more, we might have something to work with.”

  Trust wasn’t something she gave out easily. Early on she’d learned that trust was the most precious gift she could give and most people didn’t deserve it. Her mother had trusted too readily, and look where it had gotten her—living in a one-bedroom flat, penniless, with a resentful daughter, a broken marriage and a failed career.

  “Trust is overrated.”

  * * *

  EVERY TIME MAX asked someone to trust him, the little voice in his head reminded him of the past. His friend had trusted him, put his life in Max’s hands. If only he hadn’t, then he might still be alive.

  Max would never forget that night. The hard pelt of the rain, the smell of car fumes in the air, the weight of his pistol and the rush of adrenaline in his veins. He lived for that moment, for the feeling of his senses narrowing and sharpening. That thrill was his drug. He’d loved the rush of bringing down the criminals he’d hunted with his unit back home. But he hadn’t taken out one guy fast enough.

  He never wanted to forget that night. The memories were like a weight around his neck, and he was grateful for the heavy drag because it meant he’d always remember his friend. He’d always remember what would happen if he didn’t protect the people he cared about.

  “Max?” Rose touched his face, her soft fingers brushing along the length of his jaw. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  “I’m fine.” He shook her hands off.

  ‘“Fine’ as in the acronym for Fucked up, Insecure, Neurotic and Emotional?” Cheekiness glinted in her eyes.

  “You think you’re pretty clever, don’t you?”

  “You were the one who called me smart yesterday, so clearly you think it, too.”

  He couldn’t help but find her sassiness appealing...deeply appealing. Rose was pretty much the opposite of his ex in every way possible—she was forward, confident and she always tried to have the upper hand. She was different, and different was exactly what he wanted right now.

  But impartiality was critical to his job. He couldn’t let Rose cloud his judgment. He couldn’t feel anything for her; he wouldn’t allow it. Not to mention it would mean breaking the rules...again. At this rate he’d be going for a personal best.

  “How about we play a game?” She hopped up onto the kitchen counter and swung her legs, knocking her heels against the cabinet doors. “Since you won’t tell me anything interesting about you, I’m going to guess. If I’m right, you have to take off a piece of clothing.”

  “Strip Q and A?” He raised a brow, but the naughty suggestion sounded way too good to him. “I’ll bite. What happens if you’re wrong?”

  “Then I’ll take something off.” She gave him a cocky smile. “I’ll warn you, I’m pretty good at figuring people out.”

  “Is that so?”

  He had no intention of playing, but as she pushed her hair back from her face, the soft brown waves caught the sunlight streaming in from the kitchen window and captivated him. She leaned forward, her full lips curved, and he remembered how they felt, how they tasted.

  His cock stirred.

  “Damn straight. I’ll have you out of those pants before you even have a clue what’s going on.”

  “I’m the detective here,” he said, placing a hand on either side of her thighs on the countertop and bringing his face close to hers. “I wouldn’t be so cocky.”

  “I thought you were a security consultant?” She tilted her head, smiling innocently and he realized his mistake. “I’m going to guess that you were a police officer back home.”

  Dammit.

  The decision hovered in front of him: stick to the rules or shatter them into smithereens. His gut told him that she’d trust him with the truth if he gave in to her.

  Not to mention that he wanted to solve this mystery. For the first time in months, his life had a purpose. Rose made him feel like the old Max again. Maybe if he figured this out and caught the bad guys, he’d be able to prove to himself he could go back to his old job. Be the man he wanted to be before it all had turned to hell. If he needed to play dirty to do that, then so be it.

  He unclipped the diver’s watch on his wrist and slipped it off without a word. Anticipation buzzed in the air around him, his body pulsing with desire.

  She grinned. “Your favorite color is blue.”

  “How do you know that?” He looked down at himself and saw only dark denim and black.

  “Just a guess.” Her eyes ran up and down him as she waited for him to shed another item of clothing.

  He didn’t have a lot of options, and if he wasn’t careful she’d have him butt naked in no time at all. Grabbing the hem of his T-shirt, he lifted it up and over his head. Cool air brushed his skin.

  Rose shifted against the countertop her tongue darting out to moisten her lips. The appreciation in her gaze warmed him, stoking the fire low down in his stomach.

  “What else have you got?” he asked.

  “You were married.”

  He shook his head. He’d put a ring on his ex’s finger, but they’d never made it down the aisle. Still, Rose was wrong and that meant he’d earned an item of her clothing. He held out a hand and she slipped her necklace over her head. The beads were cool and heavy in his palm.

  “Something bad happened and that’s why you moved here.”

  His hands twitched. “That’s not specific enough.”

  “It was a work thing.”

  He yanked on the end of his belt, releasing the buckle and sliding the leather through the loops on his jeans. The chink of metal against tile sounded as the belt hit the floor.

  “You got fired.” She didn’t seem confident in her guess.

  “Nope, I left of my own accord.”

  Not only had he been cleared of any wrongdoing in the incident that had killed his best friend, the commissioner had determined he’d acted exactly as an officer should. But it didn’t bring the dead back to life. It didn’t matter what any of them said, he needed to prove to himself first and foremost that he was fit to return to duty.

  She slipped the gray cardigan from her shoulders, revealing a soft, silky top beneath. Her small shoulders were exposed, the slender length of her arms now covered in goose bumps. Her bracelets jangled as she tossed the item of clothing to the floor.

  Max’s breath caught. She wasn’t even close to being naked, but the idea of having her again surged through him, heating him from the inside out. Against his better judgment, Rose excited the hell out of him.

  “You left because you were disillusioned about being a police officer? Something happened that made you question that it was the right job for you.”

  He bent down and unzipped his boots, slipping his feet out and moving the shoes to one side.

  “You live by yourself now. You don’t have any roommates.”

  He peeled off his socks and shook his head. “You really missed your calling.”

  “I guess that...” She tapped a manicured finger against her chin. “That you left people behind in Australia.”

  “That’s cheating. You know I have family back home.”

  “You left a woman behind.”

  Technically he’d called off the wedding before he made the decision to leave, so he could count her wrong on that. Besides, she was kicking his ass and he wasn’t going to give her a point unless she was 100 percent correct.

  “No woman.”

  She slid the bracelets off her arm and stacked them on the bench beside her. “You left a dog behind.”

  He laughed as his hands dropped to the fly of
his jeans. “I don’t know what kind of supernatural connections you have...”

  “What was his name?”

  “Chief.” The denim pooled at his feet and he stepped out of the material, kicking it out of his way. “He was a Jack Russell my dad rescued while on duty one day. They found him in an abandoned warehouse. My dad took him to the RSPCA as soon as he got off work.”

  “That’s so sweet,” she said, though the look she gave him was anything but.

  Fire sizzled in those strange yellow-green eyes of hers, her hands fidgeting with the edge of the kitchen counter. His excitement was impossible to hide now, the fitted boxer briefs revealing everything to her.

  “You have a pet kangaroo,” she said, throwing her head back and laughing at his raised brow.

  “You don’t really think Australians have pet kangaroos do you?”

  She began to undo the row of pearl buttons of her top. “No. But I want to get naked, too.”

  The silk parted at her chest, revealing the light purple bra he’d seen last night. She had amazing breasts, full and perfectly pert. His fingers ached to touch her again, to feel her arch into his hands. His mouth.

  “Have you run out of assumptions?” he asked as she dropped the shirt to the floor.

  “They’re guesses, not assumptions.” She tucked a strand of wavy hair behind her ears, a smile lifting the corner of her lips.

  He wanted to kiss the self-satisfied expression right off that gorgeous pixie face of hers.

  “I guess that you were a late bloomer and that you didn’t have your first real kiss until you were sixteen.”

  He shook his head. “I was an early adopter, had my first kiss with the girl next door when I was twelve years old.”

  “Twelve!” She glared at him and pushed off the countertop to remove her pants. They hit the floor a moment later. “You naughty boy.”

  He held up his hands. “It wasn’t my fault. She kissed me.”

  “And I bet you loved every second of it.”

  She reached around behind her back and moments later her bra was on the floor. His insides clenched at the sight of her breasts, the rosy nipples stiff and begging for his mouth.

  “Game over.”

  “Did I win?” He strode toward her, his hands smoothing over her hips.

  “You’re about to.”

  She grabbed his head and brought it down to her with a determination that made his whole body throb. A thought flickered at the periphery of his mind, a concern about professionalism and rules and being the kind of son his father always wanted.

  He shoved it aside as his hands roamed over her body, desperate to map every luscious inch of her, drowning his conscience with lust and heat. He traced the curve of her shoulders, the smooth length of her spine and the puckered edge of her nipples.

  “Those hands...” She moaned, dropping her head back as he kissed his way up her neck.

  He captured her mouth and thrust his hands into her hair, angling her head to get the deepest possible kiss. Her hair was smooth as silk in his palms. Like the rest of her, it was soft and perfect.

  She wound her arms around him as he lifted her back onto the countertop, her legs coming up around his waist. His cock pressed against the sweet spot between her thighs, her warmth penetrating the thin layers of fabric that kept them from total satisfaction. She moaned as he rubbed against her, her breasts flattened against his chest, thighs clamping down on his hips.

  He bent his head to trace a line down to her breast, drawing a taut nipple into his mouth. A sharp bite of pain flared within him as her nails dug into his shoulders, but the sensation blossomed into an electric heat that burned through him.

  Using his teeth to tug gently on one delicate nipple, he ran his hand up the smooth flesh of her inner thigh. She gasped as he ran his knuckles over the damp patch of satin covering her sex. Drawing his head away from her breast, he blew cold air onto her skin and watched as goose bumps rippled across her flesh.

  Her body was so wonderfully responsive to his touch. And the fact that she wasn’t ashamed of her desire made it even hotter.

  But he was going to control the pace today, and, unlike last night, he wasn’t going to rush.

  “If you go any slower I’ll wither up and die,” she said, her voice shaking on the last word as he kissed his way down the side of her belly.

  His tongue ran down the elastic of her panties, tracing the sensitive join of her leg and hip. “Why are you in such a hurry? I’m trying to learn your body.”

  “It feels like you’ve already taken the master class.” Her nails raked across his scalp, sending a shiver down his spine.

  “You’re just good at telling me what you want.”

  “But I haven’t said anything other than hurry up.”

  “Your body has.” He planted a chaste kiss at the center of her sex and was rewarded with the sharp intake of her breath.

  “Please, Max, you’re driving me crazy.” She tried to angle her hips to get more pressure from his mouth.

  He swiped a tongue across the purple satin and hooked his fingers under the waistband, drawing the panties slowly down her legs until they joined the rest of their clothes on the floor. She was already slick with arousal and he couldn’t hold himself back anymore. He wanted her orgasm, wanted to taste her pleasure and feel the tremble of her release against his tongue.

  He parted her slowly, reverently. He kissed every inch of her, drawing out the moment of her release until she was panting above him, bracing her hands against his shoulders.

  “Please, Max.” Her voice was strangled, distorted with pleasure. “I need it so bad.”

  He flicked his tongue over her clit, increasing the pressure of his kiss until the tremors started. As she tipped over the edge, she cried out, and he was sure he heard his name somewhere in the incoherent murmuring that followed.

  She slumped forward and he lifted her from the countertop cradling her in his arms.

  “Where are you taking me?” Her eyes fluttered open as she curled into his chest.

  “Bathtub.”

  “Are you going to join me?” Through the haze of her post-orgasm bliss, the twinkle returned to her eye.

  “Wild horses couldn’t hold me back,” he said, setting her down in the bathroom.

  He bent over the tub and was about to turn on the water when the phone rang. The shrill sound echoed through the house, insistent.

  “Let me grab that so the noise stops,” Rose said as she ducked out of the bathroom.

  But the sound of her answering machine message cut through the air. She turned back and shook her head, motioning for Max to stay where he was.

  Then the beep was followed by a heavy breath, the sound causing the hairs on the back of Max’s neck to stand up.

  “Where is it?” demanded the voice on the other end of the line. “We know you have the Noelle Diamond, Rose. Next time we call, we’ll expect you to hand it over. You won’t be able to run away to London this time.”

  6

  THE NEXT DAY, Rose strolled into the coffee shop that had become her local since she arrived in New York and flopped into a chair. Her boss had practically shooed her out of the store when she’d mentioned the break-in, but truthfully, she needed the distraction of being at work. The first four hours of her shift had flown past and she’d been too busy to think about the intruder, the mysterious voice mail...or Max.

  Bath playtime activities had been put on hold as soon as the answering machine had captured the menacing, raspy voice. After all, there wasn’t anything like a thinly veiled threat to ruin the mood.

  The man had asked about some diamond. She didn’t have any diamonds. Not unless you counted the tiny heart-shaped pendant her mother had given her for her twenty-first birthday, which was inlaid with a diamond so s
mall it was more of a flake than a stone.

  She wanted to believe they had her mixed up with someone else, but the churning deep down in her gut told her otherwise. Her life had been mystery-free in London, so she couldn’t ignore the fact that this had all happened since she’d moved. And who knew—or cared—about her move? Only a select few people.

  “I don’t like the look of that stressed-out face.”

  Nala, the barista and the closest thing she had to a friend on this side of the world, hovered over her. Her ebony eyes narrowed as she pointed accusingly at Rose.

  “Those dark circles are new.” She held up a pot of coffee and Rose motioned for her to pour.

  “I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

  “I would ask if someone was keeping you up, but I doubt you’d be frowning if that was the case.” She winked. “You want some lunch?”

  “A bowl of vegetable soup would be great. Extra bread.” She ignored Nala’s incorrect assumption and rubbed her hands together. “I can’t seem to get rid of this chill.”

  “You and me both.”

  Rose leaned back in the chair and rubbed her hands up and down her arms. The man Max had sent to keep an eye on her sat inconspicuously by the door. He wore a thick brown coat and looked more like an off-duty professor than a security consultant. But Max had insisted.

  Rose watched the door to the coffee shop in an effort to distract herself. Every time it opened a gust of cold wind swept through, bringing with it a little swirl of snow. The place itself was otherwise cozy, the string of fairy lights hanging from the window providing a glow where the view outside was nothing but a mist of white.

  Snowflakes had been painted on the window and kitsch Christmas ornaments decorated the tables. Rose toyed with the fat pink-cheeked Santa that sat next to the salt and pepper shakers on her table. Maybe it made her a Grinch, but she hated Christmas.

  The songs dug into her head so firmly she wanted to scream, and the idea of buying love didn’t appeal to her. Christmas with her mom in London had been different. Money had been in short supply and the day itself had often passed without much fanfare.