by Shara Azod
“You know you don’t have to take me out,” she finally voiced, sounding a little defeated. Maybe he was imagining that, but he really didn’t like the worry in her eyes. “You’ve done more than I could ever ask for already. Really, it’s okay; I mean, I appreciate everything more than you can ever know. It was the best Christmas gift ever, having you stick up for me. You’ll always be my hero.” She tried to smile, a weak twist of her lips. “Besides, I am sure you have better things to do.”
No, he didn’t, nor was he at all interested in doing anything for the rest of the night without her. Suddenly the depth of her shyness became crystal clear. For some reason, Miss Mikki Washington had no clue as to her own allure. For reasons he couldn’t even to begin to guess at, she was really convinced he couldn’t be genuinely interested in her. It would’ve been funny if it weren’t so perplexing. She couldn’t be more wrong. Pulling her into the circle of his arms, he kissed her. Not the gentle butterfly kiss he’d placed on her soft, yielding lips before. No, this time he kissed her with all the desperate passion pent up inside him. His mouth moved with purpose, forcing hers open so he could taste her fully.
Damn, but kissing Mikki was sweet! She tasted like peppermint and chocolate, the flavors he’d always associated with Christmas. Now they would always remind him of Christmas with Mikki; he couldn’t think of anything he’d like better. Unable to allow her to say no, Leslie didn’t let up his oral assault until her body melted against him. There was no way she could miss the rock-hard proof of how badly he really wanted her.
“Why?” The truly bewildered look on her face would’ve been funny in any other circumstance. As it was, he was more concerned with her complete lack of self-esteem. The woman was gorgeous; why couldn’t she see that?
“Because you’re beautiful inside and out,” he informed her seriously. He wanted badly to strip her down right here and now to show her what he meant. “And you make me feel things I haven’t felt in such a long time.” Shit, he’d actually admitted that out loud. He hadn’t meant to. “I would really like a chance to get to know you better. And I want you to know me, Leslie the man. Not Leslie Trace Brooks, movie star.”
Waiting the few moments it took for Mikki to make up her mind was killing him. The urge to just throw her over his shoulder and take her off to his cave was far stronger than he cared to admit. His chest felt painfully constricted as his heart raced. This hadn’t happened to him since—hell, since before he came to California. Since high school, really. It was humbling, and scarier than he wanted to admit.
“Please, Mikki.” Unable to take the silence of indecision, he decided to beg. Couldn’t hurt. “I just want to get to know you better.”
What if she said no? What would he do then? Probably follow her home like a fucking stalker. He realized that was so inappropriate, but he was going insane here. What he needed was time to change her perception of how she saw herself, and to convince her he was in dire need of her down-to-earth goodness in his life, her realism. Living in a world of fakes, she was rare, and he wanted her for his own. Insanity, but what wasn’t in Hollywood?
“Okay, but I’d rather not go anywhere…public,” she finally acquiesced.
Odd request, but he could give less than a damn. Anything she wanted, he was all too happy to oblige.
“How about I cook for you?” If they didn’t have to be back in this mall tomorrow afternoon, he would’ve flown her to Paris. Women liked that kind of thing, right? Maybe he would do it Sunday night. Movies were made about doing that kind of shit; surely he could pull it off in real life.
Yet he couldn’t deny his mouth was literally watering at the thought of having Mikki in his home—one of them, anyway. It would be just the two of them, alone. God, he prayed he could behave himself. Probably not. “I promise to be on my best behavior.”
Unless she didn’t want him to. In that case, all bets were off. And he’d do everything in his power to make her not want him to be on his best behavior. But more than anything, he needed to get to know her, and allow her to really get know him. With this woman he didn’t have to be guarded, to watch every word for fear of reading about it in the tabloids later. Mikki wasn’t that kind of woman. More than one actor had been a fool for believing that about the woman he was dating, but Leslie knew it deep in his soul.
“Good, perfect.” She actually beamed up at him. It felt as if the sun were shining directly on his face.
Most females he dealt with would’ve expected an expensive restaurant, followed by some crowded venue where they could be seen. But there was nothing about Mikki that was like most of the women he knew.
“Let’s go get changed and get out of here.” Leslie smiled, pulling her to his side. The sooner he got her to the beach house the better.
Chapter Seven
I’m on a date with Leslie Brooks! No matter how many times the thought ran through Mikki’s head, it was still hard to believe. True to his word, he followed her to Vivi’s apartment where she parked and locked her friend’s car. Being with the drop-dead gorgeous man made her so discombobulated, she forgot to take the keys upstairs. She considered calling Vivi, but she was probably on stage or otherwise occupied. The blonde had said she wouldn’t be home until late. There were always parties after a play, and Vivi loved a good party. Besides, Mikki wanted to keep this miraculous experience to herself for a while longer—at least until it was over. It was one night of a dream, and Mikki intended to enjoy it conscience free. Vivi was going to kill her for not calling the second she found out Leslie Brooks was actually Santa, but oh well. Tonight she was going to let go and enjoy herself. She’d been a good girl this year; she deserved it, right? Afterwards she could bear all Vivi’s bitching.
“You look nervous.”
Leslie’s voice caused her to jump in her seat, then blush furiously. Of course she was nervous—she was seated in a brand-new Jaguar, cruising down the coast. In order to calm her nerves, she’d been staring out of the window lost in her musings, all while twisting her hands nervously in her lap. Yes, she was a ball of raw nerves, but who the heck wouldn’t be? The view of the ocean at sunset soothed her; the reds and oranges reflecting on the deep blue of the Pacific Ocean helped keep her mind off what she was doing. One-night stands were not her strong suit. In fact, she’d never done something like this before. But it was an once-in-a-lifetime kind of thing; she’d had to say yes.
“I am nervous.” How could she not be? There was little point in denying it now. Besides, she had every right to be nervous. How many regular, everyday women get asked out by a freaking movie star? The circumstances of this “date” were bizarre. Forget fairy tales—this was just about as believable as a sci-fi flick.
“How old are you?” Leslie asked out of the blue.
Wow, she wasn’t expecting that one. Did she appear young? Like juvenile young? God, maybe she was acting childish.
“I’m twenty-eight,” she answered, not asking him the same because she already knew. He was thirty-eight, from Iowa. Those incredible gray eyes were the same shade as his mother’s, though the rugged, handsome looks were just like his dad’s. He’d been discovered while doing a college play his senior year, though he refused to come to L.A. until after graduation just in case it didn’t work out. God, she was sounding like a groupie! This was all just so weird.
“Where are you from?” Leslie asked next, not giving her too much time to overthink her answers.
“Chicago.” Where was this going?
“You must miss the snow this time of year,” he went on pleasantly, glancing at her and flashing a heartbreaking grin. Lord, she might be a little bit in love already, which was just pathetic. “I still haven’t gotten used to Christmas without snow.”
“Me either!” Mikki immediately brightened. Every person she’d met here that was from back East always claimed they didn’t miss the snow at all. “There’s nothing prettier than Christmas lights against the snow.”
“Or hot chocolate in front of a roaring
fire when it’s below zero outside,” he added with a deep laugh.
“I don’t know about the fire part.” Mikki laughed right back, really getting into the conversation, forgetting about her nervousness. “But you’re right about the hot chocolate when it’s cold out. I even miss bundling up in hats and scarves and gloves.”
“Yeah, it doesn’t feel quite like Christmas without the snow. What made you move to California?”
Mikki felt herself blushing all over again, though she tried not to. She seemed to be doing that a lot around him. But duh, of course she would. He was so far outside of her league it wasn’t even funny.
“There wasn’t much left for me in Illinois,” she admitted softly. Truthfully, there had never been anything for her in Illinois. “I don’t have any family, and it was hard, you know, to make a livable wage. Decent housing is just so expensive in the city, and I hated the surrounding areas.” And she had aged out of foster care. She didn’t add that part. She didn’t want his pity.
“And Orange County is any better?” he asked softly.
Mikki had to laugh at that one. “No, but the weather is a heck of a lot nicer, so lower utility bills,” she managed to get out between the giggles. “Plus it’s cheaper to go to school here. I work a few part-time jobs and go to a junior college at night. When I first moved here, I worked a couple of full-time jobs to save up a little before starting school.”
Talk about verbal diarrhea! Why was she telling him all this? Clamping her mouth shut, she turned to look out the window once more. Great, he probably thought she was one of the world’s worst losers. Junior college and part time jobs—why didn’t she just tell him she was a stripper working her way through college? Nothing about her life exactly screamed success.
“That’s impressive,” Leslie surprised her by saying. “If it hadn’t been for football, I probably would’ve never left the farm.”
“Really?” That was hard to believe; he just seemed so together. At least his dirt was never splashed all over the tabloids. And he wasn’t one to fall for every little starlet that hit the scene.
“Seriously,” he stated emphatically. “I was a little lost after high school. All I wanted to do was find a way to help my family. We were the epitome of dirt-poor farmers. There weren’t a lot of jobs in the tiny community I’m from. I got lucky. You on the other hand—you’re tenacious. What you did—what you’re doing—takes guts.”
Mikki was floored by the compliment. It had sounded so sincere. No one had ever complimented her like this before. She wasn’t really sure how to take it.
“See, Mikki, I’m just a guy who stumbled on something great. Acting is just my job, it’s not who I am. I’m really just a farm boy from Nowhere, Iowa.”
Hardly, but she wasn’t going to argue. Especially not as he eased the car from the road through a slow-opening gate. The house was clearly visible a little ways off on a rise. Geez, the place was right on the beach! The nearest house had to be more than a mile away, because it wasn’t very visible. That kind of space came at a premium in Southern California. Like millions of dollars.
All the nerves that had briefly left her came back in a rush as the vehicle cruised to a stop.
“Hey.” Leslie reached over and grasped her hand. “It’s just a house. I’m just a guy. A guy who is very interested in you. Can you forget about everything else and just concentrate on the two of us getting to know each other a little better?”
Yeah right. Forget she was in a multimillion-dollar house with a man wanted by half the women in the world. Not freaking likely, but she was willing to give it a try.
Chapter Eight
It took a while, but after a few hours, Mikki loosened up and forgot his public persona. After grilling a couple of steaks and making a salad together, they were laughing and having a few glasses of wine while lounging on the den floor on giant throw pillows. Swapping stories like they were old friends and giggling like teenagers. Mikki hadn’t had the greatest childhood, being bounced from foster home to foster home. Yet somehow she’d remained optimistic, hopeful even. After all she’d been through, she managed never to give up like so many that grew up in similar circumstances. Leslie imagined it was a hell of a lot worse than what she’d been willing to divulge, having a drug-addicted mother and not knowing who her father was. Leslie’d never met anyone who’d had those kind of tough breaks and still held on to this kind of hope, cherishing all the good times and letting go of the dark times.
It certainly explained why she had such a hard time believing he was really interested in her. From all the things she’d told him, he gathered she didn’t date much. He might be a jackass for it, but Leslie was fiercely glad he didn’t have any competition. Mikki truly was a diamond, just waiting to be found. Well, he’d found her, and as far as he was concerned, he was keeping her.
“You’re amazing,” Leslie found himself blurting out, fascinated by the shape of her lips as she spoke, when she drank, when she was just lying there looking fucking edible. As much as he would love to blame it on the wine, it was her, the essence of who she was, that had him light-headed.
Mikki ducked her head, attempting to look away. He noticed she did that whenever she was embarrassed about something.
“I’m just a normal, average woman. Nothing special,” she muttered. “You—”
“I’m a grown man who makes a living playing make-believe, pretending to be other people in front of cameras.” It was completely true. Life hadn’t really been hard on him on the surface. God, he was so lonely. He’d never even realized how much until now. But he had it good. Mikki, however, was a scrapper. She fought for everything she had, and was still fighting. “You, Mikki Washington, are real. You’re making your dreams happen. I really admire you.” He did. Hell, he suspected he was half in love with her already.
“I’m just a woman,” she repeated in a whisper, but at least she was looking directly at him, even if it was a bit in defiance.
Lounging on the pillows, he couldn’t help but think how right she looked where she was. The huge picture windows behind her showcased the moonlit ocean, the perfect backdrop. The soft light of the room made her appear to have some kind of halo. Maybe he was just seeing things, or maybe her inner light was just that bright. Leslie didn’t know or care; he just knew she was a vision.
“And I am just a man,” he murmured, his voice suddenly thick and heavy. He rolled on to his knees and crawled from his pillow to hers. “A man who would very much like to kiss you. May I?”
It wasn’t really a request for just a kiss. Leslie knew she understood that by the way her eyes widened, her breath hitching. God, he wanted this woman, Badly.
“You want me.” Mikki stated what he felt with such awe, it made him ache.
He ached because she still didn’t know how special she really was, though he’d tried like hell to tell her. He ached to show her exactly how desirable he found her. Most of all, he ached to make her his own, to make sure the rest of her life was filled with the joy she deserved.
“Yes, Mikki, I want you,” he fairly growled. “Let me show you how much.”
Chapter Nine
This was really happening. Leslie slowly crawled over her until he was hovering right above her, his face just inches from hers. She wanted so badly to say something, anything, but the words just wouldn’t come.
“Say yes, sweetheart.” Leslie’s sonorous voice washed over her, making her feel everything was okay, that she was safe. “Let me have you.”
“Yes.”
Really she was just repeating what he told her to say because she still had no words of her own. As soon as the affirmation left her mouth, he was there, his lips crushed against hers, his tongue sliding provocatively into her mouth. It wasn’t just a kiss—nothing like the two he had given her earlier. Leslie made love to her mouth, slowly, with a greater intent. When the heavy weight of his body eased on top of her, she opened willingly. Wrapping her legs around his, she allowed her arms to circle his broad s
houlders. God, he felt so good! His kiss was relentless, causing her to strain her body up against his, desperate for a deeper connection.
“I want to make love to you, Mikki.” Leslie’s voice sounded hoarsely against her lips. It was so raw, so primal. Just the sound made her stomach flutter, fueling a need unlike any she’d ever felt before.
“I want you to.” Very much so. So bad she was hurting with need.
But suddenly the comforting weight of his body was gone, replaced with cool, empty air. Luckily she didn’t have to find the words to protest. Within seconds, he’d scooped her up in his arms, moving determinately toward the staircase.
It felt weird to be cradled in such strong, capable arms. Had anyone ever held her like this before? She couldn’t recall, but the thought brought tears to her eyes. The first time she’d ever been lovingly carried anywhere was by an enigmatic movie star who liked to play Santa for kids at a suburban mall. Burying her face against his chest, Mikki tried to control all the wayward emotions clashing inside her. This was so not the time to get all emotional. It was her one and probably only chance to experience something extraordinary, and here she was weeping like some kind of scared child.
“Hey.” Setting her on the most outrageously large bed she’d ever seen, Leslie forced her to look at him with a firm, yet gentle hand. “No crying allowed, not tonight.”
“I’m sorry,” Mikki muttered miserably. “It’s a mood killer, I know.” God, she could just kick her own ass right about now.
Leslie didn’t say anything. Instead, he sat beside her and began to tenderly kiss her tears away from her face. Mikki was shocked into stillness by his actions. The way he softly kissed away the tracks of her tears until they were no more held her completely captive. How was this man real? Once there was no hint of the wetness that had been coursing down her face, his lips went to hers, this time so much hungrier than before. He devoured her, erasing any lingering doubt, any thought other than him. Him and everything he was doing to her now.