When she went to pull away, his hand enveloped hers, clasping her fingers in his slightly clammy ones.
Oblivious to Dirk’s discomfort, Danielle sent Abby an impressed look, smiled widely, then excused herself under the pretense of getting another glass of wine.
“I’m not going to be able to stay much longer, Abby.”
She nodded as if she understood, but she wasn’t exactly clear. Had he gotten a call from the hospital? Due to the party, they were operating on a skeleton staff. Both Dirk and Abby were on call, so it was a possibility. Although she couldn’t imagine why that would make him nervous.
“I’m sorry.”
“What are you sorry for?”
“Not wanting to stay at the party you planned.”
Work hadn’t called. He just didn’t want to be there. Abby bit the inside of her cheek, studying him.
As his gaze skimmed over the Christmas decorations Abby had thought gave just the right touch, he winced. “If it were any other kind of party…”
Than Christmas. He didn’t have to say the words.
There was something about the way his eyes darkened, the way his body tensed, that had her squeezing his hand. She didn’t want to leave, but neither did she like the tortured expression in his eyes. “It’s okay. We can go whenever you like. Most of the good stuff has already taken place.”
“Good stuff?” He focused on her face as if using her as a focal point to stay grounded.
“When the administrators acknowledged all the hard work everyone does every day of the year, when they acknowledged what a great staff we have, and, of course, when they gave away the gifts donated by local businesses.”
His expression not changing, he studied her. “Sorry you didn’t win.”
“That’s okay.” She smiled up at him, feeling petite despite her four-inch heels.
“You look like a winner.” His gaze raked over her Santa Claus red dress, pausing at where the waist dipped in before flaring out just above the knees.
“Thank you.” She’d seen the dress, added the white wrap and the heels that were much more daring than anything she usually wore but couldn’t resist, and known she had the perfect Christmas party ensemble.
She’d even splurged on new underwear. Not the granny whites like she usually wore. No, the tiny silk and lace garments beneath her dress kept up her Christmas red theme and made her feel less like that broken-down old toy and more like the shiny new one waiting to be played with under the Christmas tree.
Just in case.
As crazy as it was, she definitely wanted to relive all the things she and Dirk had done together, all the ways he’d touched her, kissed her, loved her body. She sighed in remembrance of the ways his hands and mouth had given her pleasure. So, so much pleasure.
“What are you thinking about?”
She glanced up, curious at the slight rasp to his voice. When her gaze collided with his, heat flushed her cheeks. She might not be able to read his mind, but he’d certainly read hers. He knew.
Knew exactly what she’d been thinking. Remembering.
It turned him on. Maybe as much as she was turned on. Could that be possible? Could he really feel the same?
“Earlier, when you asked, I promised to dance before the evening ended.” His gaze never shifted from hers. “With you by my side, staying doesn’t feel quite so impossible. Dance with me, Abby, then we’ll go.”
He was really going to dance with her? She’d already resigned herself that unless she danced with someone else, she wouldn’t be making her way onto the dance floor.
Smiling, she let him lead her out. He took her into his arms and they swayed to the music in gentle rhythm.
“You’re a good dancer.” She’d imagined he hadn’t wanted to dance because perhaps he couldn’t. She should have known better about that, too. Dirk Kelley was a man of many talents.
“You sound surprised.” He almost smiled. “It’s been a while,” he admitted, endearing himself even further, “but I guess it’s like riding a bicycle. One of those things you don’t really forget how to do.”
“Why has it been a while since you’ve danced?”
Instantly, his arms stiffened.
“I just don’t dance any more,” he finally said.
Which wasn’t really much of an answer and left her with a dozen questions he obviously wouldn’t answer. Resisting a sigh, Abby laid her cheek against his chest, soaking in the warmth of being in his arms.
They danced, slow and in sync, their bodies touching, brushing against each other, his body heat melting her like a marshmallow in hot chocolate. Dirk made no motion to leave when one song turned into another.
“You smell good.” He nuzzled her lightly, brushing his cheek against her hair. “Like fresh berries and cinnamon.”
“You smell good, too,” she admitted, amazed at her vocal cords’ ability to make coherent sounds when her entire insides shook like she’d been trampled by stampeding reindeer.
“Are you having a good time?”
Nodding, she laid her cheek against his shoulder. From the corner of her eye, she saw Danielle give a thumbs-up and a suggestive eyebrow waggle and shake of her hips. She also noticed several of their colleagues watching them. Some with curiosity. Some with smiles.
A low, nervous chuckle rose up her throat.
“What?” he asked in a low voice, near her ear.
“Everyone thinks we’re a couple.”
His feet stilled a moment, as if he’d forgotten where they were, but his hands stayed at her waist. “I don’t do couples, Abby.”
She raised her head, stared at him. “Okay, we’re not a couple.” She took a deep breath. “What are we?”
He hesitated, looking torn. “I’m not sure.”
Not the answer she’d hoped to hear. Then again, what had she expected? Feed the man a little fudge and he wouldn’t be able to get enough of her?
She couldn’t deal with his hot-cold attitude. Not and keep her sanity intact. Her heart intact.
“Then maybe you should get sure before we go any further, Dirk.” Her heart banged against her rib cage in protest of her words. She wanted to go further. Lots further. But she wasn’t a fool and wouldn’t pretend to be one, not even for more time with Dirk. Regardless of how she felt, she deserved better than to be at his beck and call, available for comfort sex and Christmas parties. “I like you. A lot. But I don’t want to end up with a broken heart and if you’re not in this with me, then…” She shrugged. “Well, whatever this is needs to end now.”
He studied her, his fingers splayed against her back, stroking over the material of her dress, possessively, distractingly. “I’d never hurt you, Abby.”
“Not intentionally.” Why were tears pricking her eyes? Why did she feel as if he was going to tell her goodbye? Why did that hurt so much? Technically, tonight was their first date. She would not cry. “But if I’m not careful where you’re concerned, I will end up hurt.”
Her heart protested it was way too late to start thinking about heart protection. She was crazy about Dirk. Way too crazy to walk away unscathed. Hadn’t she fought tears more than once that he’d immediately had regrets about making love to her?
“You’re right.” He took a deep breath and she expected him to let her go, to push her away. Instead, his hands tightened at her waist, as if he wasn’t willing to let go, as if he clung to her for support. “I shouldn’t have asked you here tonight.”
“Why did you?”
“I didn’t want to be here alone.”
Had he only asked because she was convenient? Because he’d known she’d say yes? She bit the inside of her lower lip to hold it steady. He’d not made any grand promises. All he’d done was ask her to attend a Christmas party with him. She’d been the one to attach all sorts of sentimental meaning to his invitation.
Just as she’d attached all sorts of sentimental meaning to their morning together. Lord, she was a fool.
“But mostly because I can
’t quit thinking about you.”
A soft moan escaped. That was more along the lines of what she wanted to hear. More along the lines of how she felt about him. Her breath caught, knotting in her throat.
“About making love to you.” He shifted against her, holding her more closely, pressing the length of her body to his. “I want you, Abby. I haven’t stopped wanting you. Seeing you tonight, like this…” his gaze moved over the curve of her neck, her upswept hair “…touching you, I can’t help but want to make love to you even though I know I shouldn’t and you certainly shouldn’t let me. Because regardless of how much I want you, I was serious when I said I don’t do relationships.”
“Why not?” She swallowed the knot, wondering at the raw emotions in his eyes. Emotions she wasn’t positive had only to do with her, emotions he’d rarely bared, if ever.
He shook his head. “Not everyone wants the cozy Christmas fantasy of being part of a couple, Abby. That’s not what I want.”
The pain in his voice overshadowed his words, words she was sure were chosen to alienate her emotionally, revealed so much more than what he said. Did he realize how much he’d just exposed to her? That he’d given her a glimpse inside him? A glimpse that undid any resolve she might have had to walk away.
“What do you want?” She held his gaze, clinging to his shoulders to remain steady on her feet as she prepared to expose her heart. “Because I’m not asking for some cozy Christmas fantasy. I just want you. So much I forget to breathe when I look at you.”
He inhaled sharply, closed his eyes.
“Oh, Abs,” he whispered against her forehead, sounding tortured and pleased all in the same breath. His jaw flexed. His eyes darkened then closed again. When they opened, possession shone. Possession and something so primal and needy that desire swept through Abby. His eyes asked questions much more potent than any he could speak.
She toyed with the soft hair at his nape, twirling the silky black strands around her finger, wondering if it was bad that she felt just as wrapped around his finger. “Will you take me home now, Dirk?”
He placed his thumb beneath her chin, lifted her face. “I want to leave this monstrosity more than I can say, but are you sure?”
Concern flickered that he was calling what she’d thought a lovely Christmas party a monstrosity, but hormones ruled. That possessive look had her glutes tightening.
“Yes.” She was sure she wanted to give him…everything. More. Needed to give him everything and more.
What the hell was he doing? Dirk wondered for the hundredth time that week.
Little Miss Merry Christmas was getting to him. And not just a little.
He’d been right when he’d told Abby she was beautiful earlier. She was. Absolutely stunning in her party dress.
But not as stunning as she’d been in nothing at all.
Dirk had been focusing on Abby to get through the party, had hung around the golf conversation just because it had been one of the few conversations going that had had nothing to do with the holidays.
Now, if he wanted to get out of the party without embarrassing himself, he had to keep his mind off Abby, off that particular morning, off how he’d lost himself in her body, how he’d felt whole inside for the first time in years. Even now, with her smiling up at him, he could lose himself in everything she was and almost forget the ever-present ache inside him at this time of year.
Her big hazel eyes were striking even without makeup accentuating them. Tonight they looked huge, like luminous stars guiding him to her. Her silky brown hair had been pulled up, but rather than the tighter style she wore for work, lots of strands hung loose, curling in loose tendrils. She wore a bright red dress that demanded attention and had captivated his from the moment she’d opened her front door, smiling at him as if he really was Santa come to fulfill her heart’s every desire.
And those shoes.
He didn’t know how she walked in the spindly red heels, how any woman walked in heels, but he appreciated how they pumped out Abby’s calves, accented the toned lines of her legs. How they made his gaze want to keep traveling up those long lines, to unveil where they met, where he wanted to be. Oh, Abby.
Since his wife’s death, he hadn’t been a saint. He’d tried to ease the ache inside of him, only to realize he wasn’t dating material any more.
But he’d never been as attracted to anyone as he was to Abby.
He knew better than to get involved, knew there could never be a relationship between them. Not one that would go anywhere. He’d suck the goodness right out of her life, weigh her down with his heavy heart. She was right to question him. Given the chance, he would break her heart.
Yet, he’d slept with her, figuratively and literally, after the first night they’d worked together. Sure, he’d backed off after that morning, but only because of how she’d looked at him with hope of a happy-ever-after. That look had had sweat prickling his skin and his heart fluttering in a panicked rhythm. Otherwise he’d have been burning up her sheets for the past two months.
He’d gotten out of her house stat and promised himself he’d keep his distance. So why had he agreed to be her Santa? Why had he asked her to come to this party with him? Sure, the administrator had questioned why he hadn’t been going, but the guy would have gotten over it if he hadn’t attended.
“Dirk?” Abby prompted when he failed to respond to her gutsy invitation to take her home.
He stared down into her blue-green eyes with their golden flecks, his hands around her waist, holding her to him while Christmas music played around them.
She was sweet and wonderful and giving. The more time he spent with her, the more he craved, the more he knew he should stay away. She believed in goodness and in the magic of Christmas. She gave of herself without asking for anything in return. Hadn’t he just told her he didn’t do relationships? Yet here she was, willing to give what he wanted. The truth was, he didn’t want to go home alone, didn’t want to face the demons of being at this party, just being alive during the holiday season, dredged up from his past, not when being with Abby made him feel better, less alone. She made him forget everything but her.
Just as on the morning they’d fallen into bed together, words weren’t needed.
He was going to take all she’d give, knowing he had nothing to give in return and never would.
Bah, humbug. He really was a Scrooge.
Chapter Five
STANDING on her front porch, Abby fumbled twice before inserting the key into her door lock. Her hands shook like crazy.
She was crazy.
Hadn’t Dirk told her he didn’t do relationships? So why had they rushed from the Christmas party like teenagers? She laughed nervously. God, she felt like a teen on her way to a heated make-out session.
“Let me,” he interrupted when, although she’d gotten the key into the lock, the release hadn’t caught properly.
The lock clicked and Abby pushed the door open, practically falling into her foyer and dragging Dirk with her. He pushed the door closed with a resounding snap. The sound echoed through the darkness broken only by her Christmas lights, which cast a magical aura over the foyer and living room thanks to the timers she kept them on.
“Come here,” he growled, pulling her to him, taking her mouth by storm as he worked off her wrap, letting the heavy faux fur fall to the floor.
Yes, Abby thought, this was exactly how she remembered Dirk kissing her. As if she tasted sweeter than Christmas cookies and he was eager to go on a sugar binge.
He tasted just as sweet. Sweeter. His lips were marauding her mouth, his tongue tangling with hers as his hands slid over her body, touching, caressing, claiming.
Abby set about staking some claims of her own. Meeting him kiss for kiss, tangle for tangle. Tactically committing the hard lines of his body to memory, committing everything about him to memory.
“I want you so much.”
She’d noticed. Oh, how she’d noticed!
“I wa
nt to savor every touch, every sigh that escapes from your lips.” He nibbled at her throat, at the base of her neck. Hot kisses that scorched her skin, bringing her blood to a boil.
His fingers searched out her zipper, slowly parted the back of her dress as his tongue traced over her carotid pulse, licking at the raging beat on her throat.
When his hand rested on her lower back where the zip ended, he turned his attention to the thin red straps holding up her dress.
Eyes locked with hers in the flickering colors of the Christmas lights, he looped one finger beneath the thin satin and slid the string off her shoulder, letting it dangle against her deltoid. He kissed where the strap had been. A soft, gentle, stomach-knotting kiss that shot an arrow of pleasure straight to the apex of her being. He turned to the other side and repeated the seductive gesture, his lips lingering on her bare shoulder.
“You are so beautiful, Abby. So sweet and perfect.”
“I’m not perfect.” Surely he knew she wasn’t without her having to tell him. Surely he was just spouting lines. Although why he would when he already had her, she couldn’t fathom. And, oh, how he had her!
He trailed more kisses over her shoulders, light, reverent. “You’re the closest thing this side of heaven.”
Dear Saint Nicholas alive! Did he have any idea what his praise was doing? What his kisses were doing?
Apparently, because he shimmied her dress over her hips to puddle in the floor around her feet.
She stood in her foyer, dressed only in the new red underwear she’d bought to match her dress and her high heels. If not for the blaze in Dirk’s eyes, she might be cold, might be embarrassed. She was neither.
His gaze burned with desire. Deep, hot desire that told her everything. More. Desire that made her warm from the inside out. Hot.
She took his hand in hers. His eyebrow rose in question when she led him into the living room, rather than toward her bedroom. But she didn’t explain herself, sensing that words would ruin the magical atmosphere. Instead, she took the throw blanket off the back of her sofa and tossed it into the floor in front of her fireplace, turned the knob that lit her gas logs, and met his gaze.
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