Rose murmured in her sleep, shifting so that she faced the back of the couch.
As quietly as his boots would let him, he crept to the Christmas tree and bent down. The gift sat there, unassuming. Max picked it up and turned it around slowly, looking for anything that might be out of the ordinary. But all he saw was wrapping paper branded with a big-name department store logo. Nothing appeared to be out of place.
He had to solve this problem, and quick. Whoever wanted the diamond was getting desperate. Would he be able to protect Rose when it mattered?
* * *
ROSE WOKE UP to complete darkness except for a thin beam of light coming from under the door of her bedroom.
“Max?” She pushed herself up, rolled her shoulders and forced the heaviness out of her limbs.
She didn’t remember anything after Max had pulled her onto his lap and held her as he kissed her. The fluffy blanket covered her body and a throw cushion had been wedged under her head. Her palm smoothed over the soft weave of the blanket, a few loose threads tickling her.
He was going back to Australia.
But she would have her dad, and she’d work as hard as she could to turn them into a family. She’d make it work. She had to—there wasn’t anyone else.
Flicking on the lamp next to the couch, she stared at the photo of her mother. She’d taken the picture, and had managed to capture a rare moment where her mother was smiling and laughing, free of her inner turmoil. They hadn’t had much, but they’d made the best of what they did have. Life had been cruel; her mother had never realized her dream of being an actress, never found true love.
Never trust a man, she’d said. They’ll take everything they can until you have nothing left and you don’t even know who you are anymore.
Screw that. Max had been honest with her even when she hadn’t wanted to hear it. That had to count for something. And she was sure as hell tired of being alone. He would be leaving soon, but that didn’t mean she had to forego what little time they had left.
It wasn’t perfect, but it was that or nothing.
Rose rolled off the couch and grabbed a glass from the sink, filling it with ice cubes. On her way to the bedroom she found one of her favorite silk scarves hanging from the coat rack in the entrance.
Pausing, she pressed her ear to the bedroom door. Max was on the phone, his voice low and gravelly. She couldn’t make out the words but as she pushed the door open it became clear he was talking about the job in Australia.
“I don’t know when I’m going to finish up here,” he said. “But I’ll be there as soon as I’m finished with this assignment. Yes... I’ll make sure I bring the reports with me.”
She walked up behind him and draped the silk scarf over his shoulder. His head turned, a brow quirking as the person on the other end of the line responded.
“Tell them you’re busy,” she whispered into his ear.
He made a noise of agreement into the phone. “That all sounds great, Gene. Listen, I’ve got to run, but send me the details so I can put a formal application in.”
Her fingertips danced along the back of his neck, catching the too-long hair at his nape. She took the scarf and folded it into a thick band, placing it over Max’s eyes and bringing the ends behind his head.
“Yep, I understand.” He spoke into the phone. “I really have to go. Talk soon.”
The silk twisted easily in her hands, allowing her to knot it tight against him. He placed the phone on her desk, his hands coming up to touch hers.
“What are you doing?” he asked, though the question was laced with curiosity and excitement.
“I’m giving you a memory to take back to Australia.” She took his hands and kissed each palm before instructing him to keep them in his lap.
“You’ve already given me plenty of memories, Rose.”
She swiveled the chair so he faced her. “None of that is even going to register after I’ve finished with you tonight.”
“This isn’t a good idea.” He leaned forward as if to get out of the chair but she pushed her hand squarely in the middle of his chest.
“I know that you’re going to leave and that there can’t be anything more between us than what we have now,” she said, unzipping his jacket. “I don’t want to waste this time with you.”
He sighed. “I need to be focused on your safety right now.”
“It hasn’t stopped you up to this point.” She pushed the jacket from his shoulders and he did the rest of the work. It landed on the ground beside him.
In the silence the sound of their breathing amplified, the faint whoosh of traffic and the distant wail of a siren created a strange kind of urban symphony.
His hands gripped the arms of the chair. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“Arms up,” she demanded, and when he hesitated she pulled them up herself and divested him of his T-shirt. “This is what I’m trying to say, let’s just enjoy one another’s bodies. I don’t expect you to promise me anything other than you’ll do your job.”
“Whatever that involves?” he asked.
“Of course. I want to figure out who’s behind this as much as you do.” Her eyes drank him in, from the breadth of his shoulders to the perfectly defined ridges of his abs. “But in the meantime, I want to put these ice cubes all over you and then warm you up with my mouth.”
A groan escaped his lips and the line of his erection became visible through his jeans. “You’re an amazing woman, Rose.”
“I know.” She reached for the fly on his jeans and purposefully brushed the hard length of his cock.
“Sweet mother of...”
She drew the zipper down as slowly as she could, her sex clenching in anticipation. Dropping to her knees, she reached for the waistband of his underwear and drew it down, guiding his hips up so she could have him naked and waiting.
12
THE SILK SCARF blocked out everything. He’d been trained to rely on all his senses, and without sight, his sense of hearing and touch flourished.
Cool air whispered across his heated skin and the sound of clothing hitting the floor made his ears prick. Rose was moving around the room, building his anticipation. What would she do next?
His cock was as hard as steel, aching and desperate to be inside her. In all his years in the dating game, no woman had ever taken charge the way Rose had. The thought of her commanding his pleasure, controlling it... He could just about come on the spot.
The chink of something hitting glass rang out in the room and he turned toward the sound. That must be the ice cubes. His blood pulsed hot and fast, his fingers biting into the soft padding on the desk chair.
“Are you ready?” Her voice promised every kind of heavenly pleasure.
“Does it look like I’m ready?”
She chuckled and a second later sharp, wet coldness hit his skin. She moved between his legs and his hands immediately gravitated to her hips. No underwear. God help him.
The cold cube traced a path from his jaw, down the side of his neck and circled his nipple. Her other hand brushed over the tip of his erection, her fingers skating around the head.
Her skin was softer than the silk that blinded him, and his hand found the sweet seam of her sex hot and ready.
“Not yet.” She smacked his hand away and stepped back. The ice cube circled his other nipple and traveled down his rib cage.
“This is torture.” His head lolled against the high-backed chair.
Her hand cupped his sack, tugged gently. “Does it feel bad?”
“Hell no.”
She pressed her lips to the tip of his cock. “Then shut up and enjoy.”
He laughed. “Yes, ma’am.”
The ice cube left his skin and he heard the chink of it hitting glass somewhere next to him
. Goose bumps rippled across his skin where the air touched the trail of cold water.
She parted his thighs with her body and hot air blew across his lower belly, making his cock twitch. His body screamed out for her, every fiber of his being buzzing with desire.
The best thing of all was that whatever she did to him, he got to do to her later.
Her tongue touched his length, tracing a line from root to tip while she played with his balls. When her lips encircled him he expected hot comfort but her tongue was icy.
“Rose.” He arched against the strange sensation of cold and warmth.
She must have sucked on an ice cube before going down on him. His body didn’t know what to do with the contrast. He felt himself swell as she slid her mouth all the way down, taking him so deep the base of him pressed against her lips.
“You’re testing my control, Rose.” He bit the words out, pleasure lighting him up as if a flare had gone off inside him.
His fingers tangled in her hair, fully prepared to pull her back so he could strip off the blindfold and sink himself deep into her core. But her lips tightened around him, sucking until the pressure built and all strength deserted him.
His orgasm welled, the promise of release dancing behind his closed eyelids. Then she stopped and he wanted to scream in simultaneous relief and frustration.
She smoothed her palms up his thighs and chuckled in his ear. “Still think I’m torturing you?”
“Yes.” He tilted his face up to the sound of her voice. “And if you don’t keep going I’m going to need a very cold shower.”
Her hand wrapped around his cock and she straddled him, sinking down and taking him in with one fluid motion. Heat rolled over him as her hips ground against him, the feeling of skin on skin so intense and so perfect he could have died the happiest man on earth in that moment.
“No cold showers required, although I’m open to continuing our activities in the shower if you’re up for it.”
Max ripped off the blindfold and threw it across the room. The reality of her flushed cheeks and wide eyes was so much better than anything he could have conjured up. Her lips were pink and puffy from having him in her mouth.
He reached around her and stroked the length of her back. “I can’t seem to say no to you.”
She grinned and nipped his jaw. “Good.”
Holding her tight, he pushed up from the chair and she wrapped her legs around him. He lowered her gently onto the bed, never withdrawing from her sweet, intense heat.
He laid her down across the width of the bed, positioning her hips at the edge so he could kneel on the floor and thrust into her. The sound of her moans filled the air, peaking when his thumb found the bud of her clitoris.
“So much for me being in charge.” She looked at him with heavy-lidded eyes, her lower lip clamped between her teeth.
“You had your turn.”
Her sex clenched around him, drawing him deeper. A beautiful flush colored her skin, her nipples rosy and peaked. He stroked her hip with his free hand, keeping his thumb on her sex.
As an orgasm ripped through her, she dug her heels into his buttocks and took him as deep as he could go. It was all he needed to finish what she’d started. He fell forward, hands on either side of her as he said her name over and over and over.
* * *
COLD AIR HIT Rose’s skin as she opened the freezer. Shivering, she reached for the tub of French vanilla ice cream and slammed the door shut as quickly as she could. The cutlery drawer rattled as she opened it and plucked out two spoons.
Her bare feet made little suction noises on the floorboards as she wandered back to the bedroom. Max was stretched out on her bed, hands behind his head in a way that made his biceps bulge.
“A beautiful naked woman and a tub of ice cream, what more could a guy want?” He grinned, the sexy expression crinkling the corners of his dark eyes.
“How about a spoon?” She settled down beside him and dropped the cutlery on the bed so she could pull the lid off their desert.
“You seem to know what I want before I even realize it.” He pulled her closer so that her body was tucked neatly against him. “Vanilla? You struck me more as a mint chocolate chip kinda gal.”
Rose shook her head and dove her spoon into the creamy white goodness. “I like the simple things. If it’s good quality ice cream, it doesn’t need cookie bits and fudge and peanut butter.”
His spoon clinked against hers as he raced her for the first taste. “You like the simple things, huh?”
“That’s why I like you.” She popped the spoon into her mouth to keep from laughing.
He shook his head in mock offense. “Because I’m simple? That’s not nice.”
“It’s true, though not in the way you think.” She handed the ice cream tub over to him. “There’s no pretense about you, no illusions, no games. What I see is what I get. That’s the kind of simplicity I like.”
“So you like me?” His eyes skated over her and her cheeks and neck warmed.
“Can I plead the fifth?”
“Of course.” He carved out a hearty spoonful of ice cream from the side of the tub. “So what are your plans for Christmas?”
She picked at an invisible flaw in her duvet. “Can I tell you a little secret?”
“Sure.” He glanced at her, the desert forgotten in his hands.
“I kind of hate Christmas.”
He raised a brow. “Why?”
“It’s one of those hyped-up holidays that everyone wants to be this magical day...and it isn’t.” She swallowed and dropped her spoon into the ice-cream tub, her appetite suddenly abandoning her.
“I thought that was supposed to be New Year’s Eve.” He squeezed her knee. “Or do you hate that, too?”
She wanted to laugh and make light of it, but the floodgates had been opened and the past swirled around her like a toxic fog. Years after that night, she still wondered what might have happened if they’d stayed. The metallic taste of blood filled her mouth and she realized she’d bitten down on the inside of her lip.
“What happened?”
“We left on Christmas Eve.” Her eyes avoided his. “We snuck out in the middle of the night, past the Christmas tree with all the presents under it. We’d even left out a carrot for Rudolph.”
She’d wanted to grab the gift she’d wrapped for her best friend, a shiny blue box filled with a tube of expensive lipstick and a few foil-wrapped chocolates. It had cost her a whole shift’s pay and she had no idea if it had ever made it to her friend...or where her friend was now.
“There was a car waiting for us, and Mom already had the plane tickets ready to go. I didn’t realize it at the time, but she’d planned the whole thing.” Rose swallowed.
“But you didn’t know until that night?”
She bobbed her head. “I didn’t want to leave. But I felt so sleepy. I remember waking up in London wondering how we’d gotten there. I don’t even remember getting on the plane.”
Max’s jaw tightened, his brows creasing. “You said she wanted to leave because your father cheated on her.”
“Yeah.” Staring straight ahead, she fought the prickle of hot tears in her eyes. “But she didn’t have to move us all the way to England.”
“Where did you live when you got there?” He put the tub of ice cream down on the bedside table and drew her into his arms.
The warmth of his arms around her eased Rose’s tension. She rested her head on his arm and let him bear her weight.
“We lived in a flat with some woman for the first month, and then we moved to a village a few hours from London. We didn’t move back to the city until I was twenty.”
“How did you go to school?”
“I dropped out.” She pressed her lips to the inside of his elbow. “I ne
ver liked school, but I found a community house that taught jewelry making. I studied there until we moved to London and then I went to a proper art school.”
Max hugged her tighter and he pressed his cheek to her temple. He didn’t say a word but she felt his care through every inch of their embrace. “Why do you have a tree up if you hate Christmas?” he asked.
The question took her by surprise. In truth, the tree had become a habit despite the fact that it made her relive the pain of her childhood every December.
“Mom always insisted we have a tree. Every year we’d argue about putting the damn thing up. She never listened when I said I didn’t want it.” She sighed. “She passed away right after Christmas last year.”
“You put it up because that’s what she would have wanted.”
“Silly, isn’t it?”
His fingers stroked the shell of her ear. “Not even a little bit.”
“It hurts every time I look at that stupid tree.” She sighed. “I’ve almost taken it down a hundred times...but I can’t. I’m clearly a masochist.”
“No, you just love someone.”
“That’s kind of the same thing, isn’t it?” She glanced up at him.
“Yeah. It is.”
* * *
MAX TAPPED AN agitated beat with his foot as he waited for the elevator to take him up to the office. A feeling of foreboding settled on him, curling like an angry snake in his gut. Today was going to be a difficult day.
After spending the night in Rose’s bed—and making love to her more times than he could count—he’d woken up with her in his arms. Their talk last night had added fuel to his concerns. His “Spidey senses” were tingling again. Something seemed suspicious about her mother’s decision to ship Rose off to London on such short notice...and he was positive it had something to do with the Noelle Diamond.
He rubbed his eyes and yawned.
“You can thank me later.” Quinn appeared beside him and pressed a large coffee into his hands.
“How did you know I’d be in today?” He took a long swig, relishing the hot, creamy beverage and hoped it wouldn’t take long for the caffeine to kick in.
A Dangerously Sexy Christmas Page 14