Baby's First Christmas

by Marie Ferrarella

  She shrugged. “This is just my second Christmas. I’ll get better.”

  He doubted that. She was close to perfect now. Sullivan kept his observation to himself.

  “Let me take the baby.” Sally’s offer came across more like a demand. She fixed her glare on Sullivan even as she took the tiny bundle from Marlene. “You two might disturb him with your talking.”

  As Sally left the room, she made Sullivan feel as if she were taking her charge to a haven away from him.

  He nodded toward the banister, picking up the threads of their conversation. “Your father didn’t celebrate Christmas?”

  Her mouth curved, but it was curiously unlike a smile. “Oh, he celebrated it all right. In a big way. For show. There was always a team of professionals decorating everything that didn’t move. I did that.” She gestured at the ten-foot Christmas tree she had put up in the family room. The large silver star almost touched the top of the vaulted ceiling. “Not for show, but for Robby.”

  There was no missing the pride in her voice. Crossing to the tree, Sullivan noted that it was artificial. She was playing it safe, he thought. Real trees could burn with a speed that took a person’s breath away. “I take it you didn’t do that using only one hand.”

  “No, I did that last night while the baby was asleep. With Sally.”

  He couldn’t visualize the small, acid-tongued woman decorating a Christmas tree.

  There was a small pile of thin, rectangular boxes on the coffee table. The light caught the silver tinsel peeking out of the top box. It gleamed like small strands of fire.

  “The tree isn’t finished yet,” she told him.

  “Oh?”

  She nodded. “Needs tinsel.” Marlene gestured toward the boxes. “You can help me throw it.”

  Sullivan shoved his hands into his pockets. He couldn’t remember the last time he had decorated a Christmas tree. “I’m not much at tinsel throwing.”

  She pretended to appraise his arm. “It doesn’t take much to pitch strands.” She glanced at his expression. For some reason, he didn’t seem to want to decorate. Marlene shrugged. “Suit yourself.” She paused, thinking. She’d just finished feeding Robby, but hadn’t had time to eat herself. “Have you had dinner yet?”

  He thought of the aborted attempt to drive to Vesuvio’s and tried not to smile. “No, I—”

  She nodded toward the kitchen. “Neither have I. C’mon, I’ll make us some sandwiches.”

  He said, “Don’t trouble yourself,” but followed her into the kitchen. The mention of food had caused his stomach to pinch.

  “No trouble,” she promised. “Roast beef all right with you?” she asked over her shoulder as she took inventory of the refrigerator contents. “It’s my favorite.”

  He smiled as he sat down on the stool beside the counter. “Roast beef is fine.”

  They brought the tray of sandwiches back into the family room. Setting it down on the coffee table, Marlene decided to have another go at him, to try to convince him to relax. Maybe if he did, then she would. Something was going on inside of her, and she wanted desperately to sort it out. And he was the key.

  Perching on the arm of the sofa, she picked up half a sandwich and began to nibble slowly, studying his profile. “What are you doing here?”

  He raised his eyes to hers. “I keep asking myself the same question.”

  Her eyes encouraged him. “And what answer did you come up with?”

  He could have told her a dozen different things, debating over which reason to choose. He went with the truth. “That I like being with you.”

  Her smile widened. “Good answer. Keep going.”

  He picked up a napkin and wiped his lips. “I think I’ve gone further than I intended to already.”

  She cocked her head, trying to hear nuances in his voice. “Regrets?”

  “No.” He thought of his life and the narrow path he’d taken. “Well, maybe a few. But they don’t have anything to do with you.”

  He’d said as much as he was willing to right now, she thought. She nodded at the second half of his sandwich. “Eat.”

  He wasn’t as hungry as he had thought. At least, not for food. “I’d rather do something else.”

  She could feel her blood beginning to rush in anticipation. Idiot. “Like?”

  He pulled her down from her perch, onto his lap. “Like kiss you.”

  His lips covered hers. Marlene laced her arms around his neck, allowing herself to go with the feeling that instantly arose at his touch.

  It felt as if white lightning had been released in her veins. An urgency began to build within her, culminating in her loins. Her arms tightened around his neck. “Mmm.”

  His feeling exactly, he thought. His head was already swimming. With effort, he leaned his head back, grinning. “Is it me, or was that a tad more heartfelt than usual?”

  “It was.” Her eyes danced. “But that’s because there’s a trace of mayonnaise on your lips.” She lightly flicked her tongue along his lips and was pleased as she felt him shiver. “I love mayonnaise.”

  God, she could do things to him he hadn’t even imagined possible. And she did it all without knowing. “I’ll have to remember that.” Fire flashed through him, consuming him, needing fuel. Thoughts of today and tomorrow, of things done and things needing to be done, disappeared.

  All there was, was now.

  “I’m not hungry any more,” he told her, vocalizing his earlier thoughts. “Not for food.”

  “Then for what?” Her voice was thick.

  His smile was seductive as it seeped into her soul. “Guess.”

  “I’m very bad at guessing.” Sullivan’s hands played along her back. Marlene arched against him. “Why don’t you show me?”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Marlene felt herself quickly sinking into the hot, steamy world that Sullivan seemed so adept at creating for her. All it took was the taste of his mouth, the touch of his hand along her body, and she was on the road to becoming completely lost.

  And then it came to her like a message streaked across the sky.

  So this is what it felt like. This was what being in love was like. Without knowing exactly when and how, she had completely lost her heart. One moment it was hers, and the next, it was not. It was surrendered without a single shot being fired, a single ounce of resistance being exerted to stem the tide.

  If it was gone, she knew how to make the most of what she had. And she intended to make the most of the time she had with Sullivan. She knew that it wouldn’t be forever and if that hurt, she wouldn’t think of it now. There would be ample time for that later.

  Feeling as if she were more than a little intoxicated, Marlene moved her mouth from Sullivan’s. “You know what I’d really like?”

  He ran his hands languidly along the outline of her body. None of the women he had been with had ever aroused this tender, protective feeling within him that he felt toward Marlene. Not one of them had made him actually feel sensations that transcended the pleasures of the flesh and whispered along his soul.

  He smiled, confident he already knew the answer. “No, what?”

  Her eyes were laughing, giving birth to doubt within him. “To see you throw tinsel.” The surprised look on Sullivan’s face delighted her. She’d caught him completely off guard.

  His brows drew together as he studied her. “Is this some sort of kinky fantasy of yours, or are you actually being serious?”

  A fantasy. Why not? “Maybe, of sorts.” Her heart beat a little faster. “And for the record, I’m being very serious.”

  With one hand pressed against his chest to hold him back, or maybe just to mark her place, Marlene leaned over and picked up the top box of tinsel from the coffee table. She held it up to him, waiting. The strands gleamed before him like silver dreams.

  “My father always insisted that everything had to be just so for his guests. That’s why he had the tree professionally decorated. I doubt if he ever experienced a desire to
do it himself even as a child.” Marlene frowned as she remembered. “Strands had to be hung so that they ‘looked like icicles, not balled up foil.”’

  The quote belonged to her father. He’d sternly lectured her the time she had slipped into the room where the decorators were working and had attempted to help. She was nine and so hurt at being unceremoniously ushered from the room. Robby had taken her aside and told her not to mind. That someday he would have a tree, and then she could decorate it with him. She’d never gotten the chance, she thought now, holding back tears that suddenly threatened to emerge. Robby had died that summer.

  Sullivan sensed her sharp stab of pain. “What’s the matter?”

  She shook her head, dismissing it. She didn’t want to talk about her brother. Not yet. “Nothing.”

  But there was something wrong, something she wouldn’t share. He felt shut out and called himself a fool for feeling that way. It still didn’t change things.

  If throwing tinsel meant that much to her, he couldn’t find it in his heart to deny her something so harmless. “Okay, if that’s what you want, we’ll throw tinsel at the tree.”

  He stood up with the box of tinsel she’d given him and walked over to the tree. He looked uncertain, as if he’d never done this before. Ripping the box open, he took out a handful of strands and threw them. They all landed on one branch, settling along a blue-and-white Christmas ball like a heavy silver parenthesis.

  Marlene came up beside him. She pulled strands free from the box he was still holding.

  “Wimp. Is that the best you can do?” She flung a large fistful at the tree and it drizzled down, silver rain falling in slow motion.

  He held the box out to her as she took more strands. “I thought the idea behind this was not to be criticized for the way you decorate.”

  She grinned, her eyes crinkling. “For me not to be criticized.”

  He handed her more tinsel. The box empty, Sullivan opened another and flung a few strands toward the top. “Isn’t that a little bit unfair?”

  “Yeah.” The grin, light and airy, reached her eyes and sparkled. “But it’s my tree. That lets me make the rules.”

  Standing on her toes, she matched him, throw for throw. Hers landed approximately at the same level as his. She looked very pleased with herself.

  He found that inexplicably irresistible. Everything about the way she affected him made no logical sense. But for now, he stopped looking for answers. It was enough just to be here with her and enjoy her. He couldn’t recall the last Christmas season he’d enjoyed—the last one that had meant something to him.

  The tree was top-heavy in tinsel. Sullivan purposely threw the next handful toward the branches on the bottom. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t that how dictatorships evolve?”

  She laughed again as she threw another large handful. “Quite possibly.”

  They went through three boxes in approximately five minutes. Marlene picked up the last box and pulled out another fistful of silver. She held it in her hand, debating its final destination. Her eyes slanted toward Sullivan. Then, in one swift move, she threw some tinsel at him.

  It landed in his hair. He brushed it off, sending it wafting down to the rug. “You missed.”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  She made him feel like a kid without responsibilities. It was incredible. “If you’re going to play dirty…”

  There was a mischievous gleam in his eyes as he took a fistful of tinsel out of the box. Suddenly, he grabbed Marlene by the waist with his other hand. She squirmed, laughing, trying to get free as he rubbed the tinsel into her hair and along her face.

  Unable to pull away, Marlene grabbed the remaining tinsel from his hand and shoved it down the front of his shirt.

  Between the tinsel that had missed the tree and fallen on the floor and the heap that had just been exchanged in the minibattle, there were more strands on the rug than there were on the tree.

  His hands locked around her hips, Sullivan held her comfortably against him. “You’re going to have to clean this up, you know.”

  Marlene looked around at the shining mess. Except that it didn’t really look like a mess anymore. Somewhere along the line, order had ceased to be as important as it had once been to her.

  She laughed, nestling against him. She could feel his body calling to hers, wanting her. It was the most wonderful sensation she could imagine. “I know, but it was worth it.”

  Lightly, he passed his hand along her cheek. How had she come to mean so much to him so quickly? She truly made him feel like a kid, free to be happy. Free to do nothing at all. To laugh and throw tinsel.

  Damn, he was beginning to sound sentimentally sloppy.

  Tomorrow. He would stop feeling like this tomorrow. But not now. Now was for far more important things.

  Shifting, his body touching hers, he saw the flash of desire in her eyes. “I meant the tinsel you deposited on me.”

  “That’s easy enough to take care of.” Her eyes on his, Marlene unbuttoned his shirt. Her fingers lightly brushed against his chest, dislodging the tinsel. It fell between them. Some reached the floor, some clung to their clothes.

  The corners of his mouth lifted sensuously. “I think some of the strands got caught.”

  Marlene looked at the wide, smooth planes of his chest. Splaying her hand across the hard ridges, she pressed her palms against his pectorals. She could feel his heart beating faster, and she smiled.

  “I don’t see any.”

  The smile on his mouth slipped up into his eyes and down into his soul. Cupping her hips, he pulled her against him until there was no room for even a whisper. “Maybe you’re not looking in the right places.”

  Her eyes dipped lower.

  Damn, but she was sexy when she looked like that, he thought, losing the edge on his control.

  “Oh.”

  “Yes, ‘oh.”’ His easy, low tone belied the desire that raged just beneath the surface. He wanted her, Lord but he wanted her. Passion drummed impatiently within him like a wild mustang pawing the ground, waiting for the gate to be flung open, allowing him the freedom to escape from his confining corral.

  “Well,” Marlene said loftily, her own heart beating madly in every pulse point in her body, “If that’s the case, I would say we need a slightly less trafficked place to tidy you up.”

  He couldn’t wait to get her out of her clothes and into his arms. It was all the covering he felt she needed. “My thoughts, exactly. How about your room?”

  “How about my room?” she echoed, her voice husky as she hooked her arm through his. Sullivan led the way to the staircase.

  Realizing that she was still holding a few strands of tinsel in her hand, she drizzled them over his head as they went up the stairs. They streaked his hair. “You know, you look good in tinsel.”

  He stopped on the landing. Inclining his head, he kissed her fleetingly. Anything more and the reins of control would completely slip from his hands. And he wanted this to last, to stretch through the night.

  “So do you. As a matter of fact, I can envision you in tinsel. High heels and tinsel, nothing else.” He rolled the image over in his mind and smiled broadly. “Now there’s a fantasy.”

  Brazenly, falling back on the emotions that he had released within her, Marlene twined her arms around Sullivan’s neck and sealed her mouth to his.

  Tongues met, tangled, fueling the fire that needed no fuel to ignite. Her head fell back and she looked at him as she breathed, “Reality is much more exciting. As long as it includes you.”

  She completely disarmed him again. And humbled him.

  Sullivan drew her into her room, shutting the door behind them. His eyes washed over her face, absorbing every detail. “You know, for someone in advertising, you’re incredibly open and honest.”

  Which was what undid him. Deceit he was accustomed to. He knew how to deal with that, but pure honesty was something entirely different. He had no weapons at his disposal to arm himself.<
br />
  Battles were lost that way. And so were wars.

  She couldn’t be any other way. Even if she had had the resources available to her, she couldn’t lie, couldn’t scheme. Especially not with him.

  “Advertising’s my profession, Sullivan. My career.” She shrugged. “Real life is something totally different. You can’t get anything worthwhile out of it if you lie or steal.”

  He knew exactly what she meant. She was talking about her child. The child he and his father had sought to steal out of her arms. His feelings crystalized. In that moment he became her champion. She had found precisely the right way to unravel him.

  He skimmed her mouth with his own, his tongue lightly playing along her lips. Her moan of pleasure ripped into his consciousness, stirring him.

  “I know what I want to get out of it. You.” Slowly, he passed his lips over hers again, deepening the kiss, making it sizzle. Making both of them burn, yearning for more. “Only you.”

  Because she knew what was ahead, because she so desperately wanted to have reached that plateau already and yet savor the route as long as she possibly could, Marlene found herself trembling against him.

  Sullivan pulled her so closely to him that the separate outlines of their bodies were blurred. “Cold?”

  She moved her head from side to side, her eyes on his. “Just the opposite.”

  Her eyes were smoky, he thought, excitement leaping in his veins. “Funny how it grows warmer the less you have on.”

  “Funny,” she echoed.

  There was no gentle removal of clothing this time. Niceties were cast aside in their eagerness to cleave to one another.

  Sullivan pulled the fishnet sweater over her head, then flung it aside. It hit the bed, then slid off. He anointed each bared shoulder with his lips as his fingers worked the clasp on the front of her bra. It popped open and her breasts, small and firm, were covered by his waiting hands.

  Marlene drew in a sharp breath as she felt Sullivan’s fingers pass over her nipples, hardening them until they ached so that he could caress them with his tongue. Unable to remain still, she arched and twisted against him, needing to absorb the heat of his body.