Secrets of a Perfect Night

by Stephanie Laurens

  She leaned even farther over the rail and waved at Mark. He stood in a group of his friends, Holly included. Brina was a bit surprised that Thomas wasn’t with them.

  “Come down here,” he called up to her. “We have schnapps to keep warm.”

  The last time she’d drunk schnapps, she’d had a hangover for three days. “No, I’m okay.”

  “One minute,” the band leader warned.

  A bit unsteady on his feet, Mark pleaded, “Pleezze, Brina. Come down or I’ll have to come up and get you.”

  Brina looked from Mark to Holly, who didn’t even bother to hide the fact that she was annoyed as hell about something. “Oh, all right,” Brina said, and moved back from the rail. At one time she would have loved to have been invited to stand with those people, and she would have loved the opportunity to annoy Holly even more, but now she just didn’t care.

  “Twenty seconds.”

  She took another step backward and covered her cold ears with her gloved hands. She didn’t have any intention of meeting Mark and the others. She wanted to watch from exactly where she stood.

  The countdown started at fifteen, and around ten, a solid body brushed up against her back and a strong arm reached from behind and wrapped around her stomach. Brina looked over her shoulder, ready to punch George Allen if she needed to. She lowered her hands to her sides and stared up into Thomas’s dark face.

  “I knew I’d find you out here,” he said next to her ear.

  She didn’t have to ask him how he knew. He, too, remembered all those years they’d stood on the other side, wondering about the view from the deck, and vowing someday to have the money to stand exactly where their feet where now planted.

  The countdown continued, three…two…one. From the top of Showboat, the first volley of fireworks shook the ground, the band struck up “Auld Lang Syne,” and Thomas slowly lowered his face and pressed his cool mouth to hers. As bursts of red, white, and gold exploded in the black sky, Brina’s chest felt like it exploded too. Her heart expanded, thumping wildly against her breastbone, sending blood pounding in her head.

  Thomas’s chapped lips were slightly abrasive, and he tasted of crisp air and smooth scotch. She thought she should probably push him away. She was mad at him and had a right to her anger, but it was quickly swallowed up within the onslaught of overwhelming emotion and greed sucking away her will to “just say no.” And besides, she rationalized, it was just a New Year’s Eve kiss.

  Brina turned in his embrace. With one arm around her back, he pulled her up on her tiptoes, and he placed his cold hand against her equally cold cheek. Their lips parted, and her eyes drifted shut. The frigid night nipped at her face and ears, and inside her mouth Thomas’s slick warm tongue touched hers. The kiss continued through “Auld Lang Syne” and several more volleys that Brina felt through the soles of her feet. A hot shiver ran down her spine and her breasts tightened. Neither had a thing to do with the frozen air around her.

  Thomas misinterpreted her shudder and pulled back. “Are you cold?”

  Since she didn’t want to admit that his kiss left her shaky, she nodded.

  “I know someplace warm we can watch the show,” he said, and took her hand.

  “Where?”

  “You’ll see when we get there.” He led her back into the lodge, through the tangle of confetti and paper streamers fluttering and filling the ballroom. She trusted him and would have followed him just about anywhere, but when they stepped into the empty elevator, she had a suspicion she knew where they were headed, and she didn’t like it. When he pushed the number three button, she couldn’t help but feel disappointed. What had taken place that afternoon had been a mistake, and one she didn’t plan to repeat.

  “We won’t see anything from my room,” she said, looking up into his face, lit by the elevator’s fluorescent light.

  “That’s why we’re not going to your room.”

  “Oh.” The doors parted and they stepped into the hall.

  Brina followed him past her room to the last door on the left. He slipped his card into the lock, then reached past her and opened the door. From where she stood, Brina could see very little. The room was completely dark, except for the burst of color flashing from outside the windows on the far side of the room and making patterns on the carpet.

  “I don’t know if this is a good idea,” she said, without budging. She was afraid if she walked into the suite, he might assume she wanted to jump in his bed. There were so many reasons why sex with Thomas was a bad idea. Right at the top of the list was the fact that she didn’t know how she felt about him, and she certainly didn’t know what he felt for her.

  “Why not?”

  “Because…” She paused, trying to think of exactly the right way to phrase what she needed to say, but since she couldn’t think of anything, she just blurted out the truth. “I don’t want you to think I’m going to have sex with you. After today, you probably assume I do that sort of thing all the time, but I don’t.”

  “Jesus,” he sighed. “First off, I never thought you did. Second, I invited you up here because I thought you might like to watch the show without freezing your toes off. And third, I owe you half a bottle of champagne, and I thought you might want it.” He paused, then said, “We can go back downstairs if you’re uncomfortable.”

  Now she felt stupid. “No, I’d like to stay.”

  Without turning on the lights, Thomas took her hand. The door slammed shut behind them, and he led her past a grouping of furniture to the windows.

  “Wow,” she said as she pulled off her gloves and stuffed them in her pockets. “This is a little bigger than my room.”

  He moved behind her to help her off with her coat, and when he spoke his voice just seemed to hover in the darkness. “The best part is the Jacuzzi. It seats a family of about six, I think. You’ll have to check it out.” He walked away with her coat, and Brina couldn’t help but wonder if he meant she should check it out as in look, or jump inside, by herself or with him. Or if she was reading too much into what he said again.

  The lodge sent up another barrage, and Brina’s attention was drawn to the fiery corkscrews shooting into the black sky, bursting open like sparkling umbrellas, then falling like rain and hitting the snow beneath. Watching from this side of the lodge was definitely better than standing in the parking lot.

  A champagne cork popped and Brina looked over her shoulder to the bar. “I think you definitely have the best seat in the house, Thomas.”

  She heard his quiet laugher as he approached on silent feet. “Yeah, beats the hell out of freezing like we used to.” He handed her a fluted glass. “Happy New Year, Brina.”

  “Happy New Year.” She raised the champagne to her lips and watched him over the top of her glass. Red light flashed across his face and white sweater. “You should be proud of yourself,” she said, and took a sip.

  “Why?”

  “Because you always said you were going to make a million by the time you were thirty. I guess you did it.”

  “Yes, I did.” He drained half his glass as an especially heavy boom filled the air and vibrated the floor beneath their feet. “I’ve made a lot of money, Brina,” he continued when the night fell silent once more. “But it’s not the money itself that’s important.”

  He’d been watching too many of those talk shows he’d mentioned. “You sound like Oprah.”

  He smiled, his teeth a flash of white between his lips. “That’s because Oprah knows.”

  “What?”

  He shrugged. “That it’s nice to pay your bills, and it’s nice to buy a new coat when you need it, but it can’t make you thin, and it can’t make you happy.”

  Said just like a man who didn’t have to worry about paying the bills. “I don’t agree. If I was rich, I could hire a chef to cook low fat food all of my life, and I’d buy an ermine coat.”

  “Like Cinderella,” he said through his smile.

  He remembered. “Yeah, like Cinderella. That
would make me damn happy.”

  “For how long?”

  “Forever.”

  “You’re wrong. You can only be Cinderella for so long, then you get bored.” He took another drink and looked out the window. “Take it from me, I know.”

  “Money gives you more options,” she said as she looked out the window at the brilliant display.

  “True, but it can’t stop time. You’re only given so many days, and when it’s your time to check out, money can’t stop death and disease. It can buy you the best medical care, but that isn’t a guarantee of anything.”

  Her head whipped around and her heart plummeted. “You’re not sick, are you?”

  “Me?” He shook his head. “No.”

  “Who are you talking about?”

  “No one.”

  She didn’t believe him for a second, but it wasn’t real difficult for her to guess who he was thinking about. “You were always a very bad liar. You mentioned your grandfather had health problems. What’s wrong?”

  “He’s old.” From beyond the window, an explosion of white lit his profile. “My grandfather’s heart has been bad for the last few years. Sometimes when I visit him, his lips turn blue and it scares me shitless. He just pops a little pill and it kick-starts his heart. I’ve taken him to the best specialist in the country, but he’s old and there is nothing anyone can do.”

  Brina reached for his hand and squeezed. “I’m sorry, Thomas.”

  “Me too.” He raised his glass to his lips and looked over at her. “I’ve never told anyone about the scaring-me-shitless part. I don’t know why I told you.”

  “Well, I’m glad you did.”

  His thumb brushed the back of her hand. Another boom and flash, and she watched his gaze drift down her throat to the front of her stretch satin shirt. The explosion from outside faded, and when they were once again pitched in darkness, he asked, “How glad?”

  She laughed even as the hair on the back of her neck rose. “Not tear-off-my-clothes glad.”

  He raised her hand to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. “What would it take to make you tear off your clothes?” The tip of his tongue touched the V of her fingers, sending tingles up her wrist to her elbow.

  “I don’t think getting naked with you would be a good idea.”

  “Why not? You didn’t seem to mind this afternoon.” He turned her hand over and kissed her palm, pausing to suck the very center.

  “This afternoon was a mistake. You said it yourself. We just got carried away.” He blew a breath of warm air into her moist palm and she barely controlled the shiver that raced up her arm. “We should probably just forget that ever happened.”

  “Are you going to be able to forget it?”

  “I’m going to try. Are you?”

  “No,” he said simply, and nibbled his way to her wrist. “Your pulse is racing.”

  Her hand curled and she held the moisture of his kiss inside. “Thomas?”

  “Hmm?”

  “I’m serious. I don’t think this is a good idea.”

  “You just tell me when you want me to stop,” he said, then softly sucked the thin flesh just above her hand. This time she couldn’t control the tiny slivers of pleasure tickling her nerve endings, mingling with the blood coursing through her veins. His moist mouth on her sensitive skin sent currents of hot tingles across her breasts and between her thighs. Her nipples drew tight beneath the sheer nylon of her bra, and she thought she should probably tell him to stop now, before he buried his face in her cleavage again. But then the night exploded in a finale of booms and crackles; bursts of color lit the room and Thomas’s face. Through the flashes of gold and white, she looked into his eyes. He stared back at her over her wrist, his gaze burning hotter than the flames shooting into the black night. He wanted her. He wanted her as badly as she wanted him. And as she looked into his fiery eyes, she suddenly couldn’t remember exactly why making love with Thomas was such a bad idea.

  She raised her glass to her lips and drained it. “Why did you dump me today and then go skiing with Holly?”

  “I went skiing,” he whispered against her skin. “Holly was there. And I didn’t dump you. I dropped you off so I could think.”

  “About?”

  Finally he raised his mouth from her. “You,” he said, then raised his glass to his lips and drained it.

  She didn’t know if she believed him completely, but she desperately wanted to. “And what was your conclusion?”

  “That I want you, Brina. As badly as I’ve wanted you for most of my life. Maybe more so now. You’re gorgeous and as funny as you always were.” He took the glass from her free hand and dropped it, along with his, to the thick carpet where they landed without a sound. “I know why I want you, but I’m just not real certain why you want me.”

  He couldn’t be serious. Not really. “When I first walked into the reunion last night, I thought some lucky girl had hired herself an underwear model to escort her.” She looked but could only see the black outline of his face and a splash of dim light provided by a new moon. She wasn’t certain, but she thought his brows lowered. “Then Karen told me you were the underwear model, and I was glad. Not just because you look like a guy who should always run around in his BVDs for the enjoyment of women, but because things between us got really bad at the end of high school, and I was always sorry about what happened.”

  “What did happen?” he asked, and dropped her hand.

  “You know.”

  “I think I do, but why don’t you tell me.”

  Brina folded her arms beneath her breasts and took a deep breath. “You remember how it was, how I desperately wanted to eat lunch at the big table, to be included with the kids who everyone looked up to. I thought that if Mark liked me, I must be something special.” She looked down toward her feet. “No longer munchkin McConnell, the skinny girl whose mother made her clothes.”

  Thomas placed his fingers beneath her chin and brought her gaze to his. “I liked munchkin McConnell.”

  “I know, but I didn’t.”

  “What about now? Are you still desperate to sit at the big table?”

  “No. I like me.”

  He brushed his thumb across her lips. “I like you too.”

  Her lips parted and she licked the pad of his thumb.

  “I like your shirt,” he said, a catch of desire in his deep voice. “The minute you walked into the banquet room, I noticed that shirt.” He slid his hand to the back of her neck and pulled her closer.

  “It’s a nice bright green,” she said as she ran her palms up his chest, over the knobby fabric of his sweater.

  He chuckled. “That isn’t what I noticed.”

  “What then?”

  “The way the words Calvin Klein stretch across your breasts.” He lowered his face and pressed his forehead to hers. “And I wondered how long it was going to take me to get you out of it.”

  “I thought you invited me up here so my feet wouldn’t freeze, and because you owe me half a bottle of champagne.”

  “That’s all true. I just didn’t mention that I wanted to eat your shirt off.” He pulled her braid over her shoulder and took out the ponytail holder. “I didn’t mention that those sparkles in your hair are driving me crazy, and that I want to make love to you with it spread out across my pillow,” he said as he unbraided her hair. “That I want to see your face in the morning when I open my eyes.” Then he tangled his fingers in her hair and pulled her head back, just as he had that afternoon. And just as earlier, he kissed her parted lips like a man who knew what he wanted and was going after it. His tongue slid inside and withdrew, and he made love to her mouth with hot insistent strokes. He created a wonderfully tight suction and moved his head as he feasted on her lips, his hands opening and closing in her hair.

  Brina melted into his chest, the heat of him warming her through his sweater and her shirt, warming her heart deep inside where she’d never been warmed before. He wanted to make love. She wanted that als
o. She loved Thomas. She’s always loved Thomas, only now she’d fallen in love with him too. Her heart and body yearned and ached, and she wanted him the way a woman wanted to be with the man she loved.

  She reached for the end of his sweater and pushed it up his stomach. Her fingers curled into the T-shirt beneath and pushed that up also. And then her hands were on him. On his hot hard flesh and short silky hair. Beneath her touch, his muscles flexed and bunched and she pulled her mouth from his.

  “Turn on the light,” she said. “You got to see me. Now it’s my turn. I want to see you.”

  Six

  THOMAS BENT AT the knees and swung her into his arms. “I know just the place.” He carried her as far as the sofa. “Grab my coat,” he instructed. When she did, he carried her through the dark suite, through a short hall, and into a pitch black room. He let go of her legs and hit the switch on the wall. Blinding light jabbed Brina’s eyes and she buried her face in his neck. “Sorry about that,” Thomas said as he dimmed the light.

  When her eyes adjusted, she glanced around at the huge room. In the center sat a four-poster king-sized bed covered with an olive and beige damask spread. “That bed is huge.”

  He took the coat from her, and one corner of his mouth lifted into a sensual smile. “Yeah, we’ll have to work our way from one end to the other.” He dug around in the coat’s pocket and pulled out a box of condoms.

  “Do you always carry those around in your coat?”

  “Nope. I told you I liked that shirt. When you went to sit with your friends,” he said as he tossed the box onto a pillow at the head of the bed, “I went to the drugstore.”

  “Were you so sure of yourself?”

  “Where you’re concerned?” Thomas walked her backward until the backs of her knees hit the edge of the bed. “Never, but I was a Boy Scout and I believe in being prepared.” She sat and Thomas knelt to remove her boots and socks. He tossed them over his shoulder, and his followed shortly.

  “Take your clothes off, Brina,” he said as he pushed her down. He moved them to the center of the bed, then he rolled her on top of him and looked up into her face. “I’ve wanted to say that for a long time.”