A Blazing Little Christmas

by Jacquie D’Alessandro

  “You can pick up some clothes at the lodge, or you’re welcome to wear a pair of my gloves. I can pick you up some things at my place and bring them back here when we meet up for dinner.” He pointed out the lodge as they neared the building. “I made reservations in the dining room here, but we can go somewhere else if you’d rather.”

  He didn’t want to sound presumptuous about dinner or anything else for that matter. He was determined to prove to her he wasn’t the same guy he’d been five years ago—a live wire who thrived on the thrill of the moment. He’d talked her out of her clothes long before he’d considered how wrong that was when he had to ship out forty-eight hours later.

  These days, he wanted to show her there was a hell of a lot more to him than that. And it didn’t hurt that having her here for the holiday might help him banish a few ghosts of Christmas past.

  “You’re leaving?” She tore her gaze away from the lodge to look at him. “So soon?”

  She sounded genuinely surprised and he hoped he wasn’t playing it too conservative. Just sitting next to her in his truck cab was seriously turning him on. And oh, man, there were some big-time memories associated with this woman. Her lips were slicked over with something shiny that drew attention to the perfect bow shape, the luscious indent in the center of the top lip calling him to take a taste.

  He’d done that and so much more with her mouth before…

  He cleared his throat and willed away thoughts that would make him start sweating if he didn’t get a handle on himself.

  “I figured you would want to get settled—”

  “Then you must not remember me very well.” Grinning, she wiped clean a fogged-over spot on her window that the defroster had missed. “I’m not the type to settle. I’ve only got a weekend here and there’s so much I’d like to do. I’d be surprised if I’ll even be able to sleep tonight.”

  She sent him a look that sizzled over him like a fresh sunburn, reminding him they hadn’t slept for more than an hour at a time when they’d last been together. They’d both been keyed-up. Wild. Hungry.

  But her glance disappeared faster than it had arrived and he wondered if he’d read into the whole thing. Damn but he sucked at playing the gentleman with this woman.

  “In that case, I’ll put your bag inside and let them know you’re here while you think about what you’d like to do.” He parked the truck and pocketed the keys. “Just name your pleasure, and we’re there.”

  “Really?” Her blue eyes seemed to light from within as she considered the prospect. “I’m going to hold you to the promise of giving me my pleasure, but first I’m going to find out if this is the kind of snow you can use for a snowball fight.”

  She was out of the truck and in the parking lot a second later, her boots kicking up a snowy rooster’s tail in her wake as she ran. He scraped his chin off the steering wheel at her deliberate use of provocative words—damn it, that had been deliberate—and pulled her suitcase out of the back. He had almost recovered from swallowing his tongue when a snowball pelted him hard between the shoulder blades.

  Chapter 2

  Heather’s hands had warmed up enough to make only one snowball but thankfully, her aim was perfect.

  It felt good to nail her former lover right in the middle of his sexy-as-hell shoulders, especially after the way he’d played it so cool with her from the moment she’d stepped off the plane. Just what exactly did he have in mind to invite her all this way after all this time? Heaven knows he hadn’t sent out any sex vibes the way he had once upon a time….

  * * *

  “Excuse me.” She sauntered up to the mega-hot Army-man in camo who’d been watching her all evening from a darkened corner table on a patio overlooking dark Georgia marshlands.

  He’d been drinking with another camo-clad hottie up until about half an hour ago when his buddy left the outdoor bar with a squealing blonde draped around him like a wet towel. Heather had thought Mr. Eyes-All-Over-Her would finally make his move then, but he remained in his seat, his boots propped on a nearby stool as he tipped back his beer and stared unapologetically at her.

  The season had been warm that year and the managers had brought in a rock band that cranked out butchered holiday tunes while waitresses wearing reindeer antlers served candy cane martinis.

  “Yes?” He didn’t bother to stand, his manners definitely not of the old-school Southern variety. He rattled a low-hanging crepe myrtle branch between his fingers where the garland-laden foliage crept over the back of his seat.

  “I can’t help but notice you’ve been staring at me all night.” She’d like to think the martini she’d had earlier made her bold, but she tended to act on instinct anyway, a habit engrained in her head years earlier.

  “You’ve been putting on quite a show.” Camo-man grinned and there was something wildly feral about the display of white teeth in the dark. They were far from the dance floor here, and this part of the patio had grown deserted as more of the bar’s patrons came under the spell of the oddly hypnotic, guitar-charged Christmas music.

  “Excuse me?”

  His big boots slid off the stool where he’d propped them and he unfolded himself from his chair to stand. She’d misjudged his height from his slouch and now she felt the full impact of the man, the muscle and the uniform.

  She swallowed.

  “You don’t have to excuse yourself with me.” He reached out to touch her cheek with the back of one knuckle in a move that was too familiar by half and yet the slow drag of his skin over hers made her eyes flutter dazedly in response. “I’m liking everything I see.”

  Her heart rate kicked up a notch as her rational mind acknowledged he stood too close to her. Still, having zero experience with this level of immediate sexual attraction, Heather found the magnetic pull too strong to step away.

  “It’s not polite to stare.” Her mother’s words leaped out of her mouth before she could stop them, the automatic response kicking in because her own thoughts were all deeply engaged in wishful physical scenarios with the man in front of her.

  His bark of laughter was the sort of blatant amusement she often took at her mother’s attempts to instill manners on the world around her.

  “Do you want me to stop?” His question was direct and to the point and she didn’t know if she could answer it honestly.

  His dark eyes bored into hers, seeking the truth, and something about the way he posed the question assured her he would respect her wishes. He wasn’t playing games.

  “No.” Even though she took pride in acting on instinct, this was pushing it. But damn it, that was the truth. This man’s eyes were pure aphrodisiac. “But if you’re going to stare I think you at least owe me the courtesy of acting on those powerful looks you keep sending my way.”

  His hand fell away from her cheek and she could tell she’d surprised him. He might not be playing games, but he’d expected her to play them.

  “Not here.” He withdrew his wallet and slapped a twenty on the table, securing it with his half-empty beer bottle. “Will you take a walk with me?”

  He gestured toward the wooden boardwalk that led out into the marshes among the tall grasses. The walkways snaked all through the wetlands before winding up back at the bar that sponsored the outdoor entertainment every Friday night.

  Heather knew what kinds of things went on out on those darkened paths even though she’d never ventured out there herself. Extending her hand to him, she gave the high sign to her girlfriends and nodded her consent.

  “It’s about time, Army-man…”

  * * *

  The stinging in her hands pulled Heather from memories of that unseasonably warm Savannah night and the man who’d seduced her with his eyes long before he’d touched her. She wondered where that man had disappeared since the Jared Murphy standing in front of her now bore little resemblance to him. Physically they were the same. But the eyes that had captured her right from the start five years ago were shuttered now. Distant.

 
That remoteness would make it a lot tougher to seduce him in order to take a little sensual revenge.

  “You really need a pair of gloves.” Apparently unconcerned about the snowball to his back, Jared lifted her hands and cupped them between his own.

  The unexpected touch set off trip wires all over her nervous system, sending her whole body into hyperawareness mode. It didn’t help that she’d just been daydreaming about their first meeting, a time when she’d allowed herself to be hypnotized by the delicious pull of sexual chemistry.

  She’d been so wrapped up in those old memories she hadn’t noticed him leave her suitcase on the dry sidewalk while he followed her into the snow-covered courtyard in front of the lodge.

  “I’ve got a better way to warm up.” She blurted the statement with all the finesse she’d used when she first met him and she’d parroted her mother’s words. Of course, her comment now was a hell of a lot less starchy.

  And she had to start somewhere if she was ever going to get him in bed this weekend.

  Jared didn’t speak for a long moment, as if weighing the wisdom of continuing the conversation. Now this facet of him, the brooding thinker—she recognized. He might have grown more aloof in the past five years, but at least now she’d spotted a hint of the fiery depths she remembered beneath the controlled surface.

  “As a veteran of North Country winters, I think I might know a little more about warming up than you.” Still cupping his fingers around hers, he drew their interlaced hands up to his mouth and breathed into the gap between his thumbs.

  The warmth of his breath soothed her raw fingers stinging from those moments when she’d plunged them into the snow. Their eyes met over their joined palms and she felt the electric jolt of that connection clear down to her toes.

  She swayed toward him like a hypnotized woman, her whole body responding to the source of heat that could set all of her on fire with the merest of prompting. She licked her lips in preparation for more.

  “Is that better?” Jared’s roughened voice cut through her romantic notions as he released her.

  Her hands hovered helplessly in midair for a few seconds until she pulled herself together. What kind of seductress would she make when she fell into a swoon like some hapless teenager every time this man came near her?

  She had to get the upper hand here, and fast. Heart racing with thwarted longing and more than a little bruised pride, Heather did her best to shrug off her dazed attraction so she could channel her inner temptress.

  “Not bad, Army-man.” She let the old nickname drawl off her tongue like a verbal caress. “But I’ll bet we would have created a lot more heat with my method.”

  Tucking her hands safely into her coat pockets, she swished past him with a hip strut in full swing.

  In your face, Murphy. Her performance wasn’t bad for a woman who hadn’t flirted in years. But she would have her small slice of revenge if it killed her, and judging by the heart palpitations churning her blood into hot surges, she figured it very well might.

  * * *

  So that’s the way she wanted to play.

  Jared watched Heather walk away for so long he nearly didn’t make it in time to hold the inn door for her. Damn it. He’d changed so much in the years since he had last seen her and he thought she would have, too. When he read about her linen business online there had been interviews with her that made her sound more…sedate.

  But in person, Heather Dillinger was as much a firecracker as she’d ever been. He didn’t know if he should be worried or insanely grateful at his good fortune.

  Locking down the mess of reactions she stirred in him, Jared stalked past the huge decorated tree in the lobby to help her check in at the front desk.

  The Timberline Lodge was a Lake Placid historic site, built as a great camp in the 1800s and converted to a bed-and-break-fast by owners who had fallen on hard times just before the Olympics came to the small town in 1932. Apparently the family had discovered a real affinity for the business, because the inn had been in continuous operation since then. The current owners, Roland and Helen Krause, had added several self-sufficient cabins to the grounds since taking over the operation, including five that Jared helped to restore when he first came back home.

  “Jared Murphy, thank goodness you’re here.” Helen stepped out from around the reception desk to wrap him in a hug, the google eyes of her bright red reindeer sweater jabbing him in the chest. “Have you heard the forecast? We’re expecting a major snowstorm.”

  “Really?” Heather stepped closer to the counter and Jared could see Roland was smitten in about two seconds.

  The older couple had raised five kids of their own but still had room in their hearts to lavish affection on newcomers of all ages. At least, that’s why Jared figured the Krauses showed up on site at his restoration projects every day with food from the kitchen and lots of approving feedback on his progress. They were first-rate people in his book and Jared hadn’t been able to beg his way into paying for Heather’s room for the weekend. They’d insisted his friends were family to them, end of discussion.

  “It’s a bona fide nor’easter.” Roland leaned his elbows on the counter, the jingle bell on his Santa hat clanging on his shoulder as he made himself more comfortable. “I hope you brought a hat.”

  “Actually I’m in the market for one, but I saw lots of great stores along the water as we drove in.” Heather signed her name in the leather guest register. “I thought I packed enough warm clothes, but it’s hard to appreciate what this kind of cold feels like until you’re in it.”

  When Roland discovered Heather was a Savannah native, he started regaling her with stories of a family trip down South when his children were young. Helen took the opportunity to pull Jared aside.

  “Weren’t you stationed in Savannah?” She had that knowing matchmaker look in her eyes and Jared hated to disillusion her that his only meeting with Heather had been more carnal than romantic.

  “Yes, ma’am.” He figured it would be better to offer up as few details as possible than stretch the truth.

  “And you met her while you were there.” Helen smiled away, her reindeer’s eyes jouncing around as she practically bobbed on her toes at the idea of romance at the inn.

  “Yes, but we didn’t really have time to get to know each other all that well.” That was true enough. “I just thought of her again recently and—”

  Okay, this was where the truth stretching began since he’d thought of her many, many times before recently.

  Shrugging, he didn’t bother trying to salvage his story.

  “I thought she might like to see snow,” he finished lamely just as Roland had gotten to a punch line that had Heather laughing so hard she clutched the counter for support.

  “Well I hope you show her more than just some snow-seeing,” Helen advised in a conspiratorial whisper before she hurried back to her spot behind the counter and intervened in the start of her husband’s next tale. “Roland Krause, that’s quite enough for our guest who needs to shop for a hat and find her room.”

  Taking his wife’s hint with the ease of a man who’d been married for more than half his life, the innkeeper straightened and pulled his Santa hat off his head before settling it on Heather’s.

  “The missus is right, but this will at least tide you over until you find something else.” He affixed the hat at an angle so that the jingle bell fell right above the green velvet ribbon holding Heather’s hair. “You make a right pretty elf.”

  “Thank you.” Heather jingled the bell as if to test it. “I’m looking forward to this weekend.”

  Helen passed an envelope with a key over the desk to Jared.

  “We won’t let you leave until you’ve had a marvelous time, will we, Jared?”

  He braved a glance in Heather’s direction and wondered what a sexy Southern Christmas elf would expect from him in order for her to have a good time. The teasing look in her blue eyes communicated wicked intent.

  “Not a c
hance.” He thanked the older couple as he rolled Heather’s bag away from the desk and deeper into the hotel.

  Right out the back door.

  “Are you sure you’re going the right way?” Heather paused on the threshold of the door to check the packet containing her key card.

  “The cabins are in the back. You can come up to the main building for meals, but this way you can watch the snow fall from all four sides and the fireplaces are wood-burning.” He took a left at an intersection in the sidewalk toward the cabins he’d worked on. “Gas fires are pretty but—”

  “Less atmospheric.” She walked more slowly behind him and at first he thought she wanted to take in the scenery, but when he looked back to check on her he realized the walkways were getting slick as the snow fell in earnest.

  Damn it. Could he be any more clueless? He was so busy running away from an overwrung sex drive that he’d ended up being downright rude. Leaving the suitcase, he jogged the couple of steps between them to give her his arm.

  Just as he reached toward her, her boot skidded on the sidewalk, sending her flying forward. She careened into his arms and he caught her easily, but the quick step he needed to make caused his feet to slide, too.

  He squeezed her tighter, protecting her if they went down. But he was able to find his footing again. He met her gaze in the swirl of white all around them and what he saw there shifted the ground out from under him faster than any icy walkway.

  No teasing. No flirtation. Just simple hunger and want she didn’t bother to disguise as anything else.

  In other words—the exact same thing he was feeling as he held her for the first time in far too long. Her fragrance was exactly the same, a heady mix of floral and musk that had remained in a pink hair scarf she’d tucked into his pants pocket without him knowing.

  He’d sniffed that silk dry in those first few months overseas, a tangible reminder of life and joy in a stark hell.

  Something about that memory prodded him into action despite all the talks he’d had with himself about restraint. Bending over her, he covered her lips and damned the consequences.