Man Under the Mistletoe

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Man Under the Mistletoe Page 13

by Debra Carroll


  “On the contrary, she did help me out by taking care of Colin in the first place.” His lips hardened, the skin around his mouth white with tension. She knew there was much more he wasn’t telling her and no reason why he should.

  “So that was it? Colin lived with his grandmother from that point on?”

  He shook his head. “In effect. By then, of course, I was making more money and traveling more for Worth’s. I spent more time over here. I saw Colin on a regular basis. But he always clung to his grandmother and shied away from me. I’m not quite sure when, or why, the resentment kicked in.”

  She felt a bitter pang of sympathy. “Oh, Michael...”

  “When he was twelve I decided he was old enough to make the move to England. I felt it was time Colin and I established a more normal relationship. And besides, at that point, whether he agreed or not, Colin needed...a firmer hand.”

  That, she could well imagine. “So what happened?”

  “It lasted about eight months. By the time he’d been kicked out of his third school, I knew I was fighting a losing battle. The boy simply did not want to be with me.”

  “And now?”

  “And now it’s too late. I can’t change the way Colin feels about me, but I also realize that now, more than ever, he needs me. I just wish I could be sure I’m doing the right thing.”

  Michael was always so much in control—of his emotions, his world. And now for the first time she was seeing him unsure of himself.

  “The important thing you have to remember is that you love Colin and you’re trying your best.” The words sounded so trite. She felt a galling sense of impotence at her inability to offer anything more.

  He raised his eyes to hers, brilliant with moisture, and the sight went straight to her heart. Suddenly she was painfully aware of the quiet.

  Michael got up from his knees abruptly. “I’ll just get rid of these.” He picked up the bowl and box and went back through the sliding door.

  Churned-up and jittery, she got to her feet. She’d stayed here far too long.

  As he came back into the room his eyes met hers again and she had difficulty catching her breath. “It’s late.” She glanced at her watch, then back up to him, trying to keep the smile on her face casual and noncommittal. “You look like you could use a good night’s sleep. I’ll see you Monday.”

  Without taking his eyes from hers, he slowly walked closer until he was only a foot away.

  “Please don’t go.” She heard the ache of loneliness.

  Her heart began to pound. For the first time she realized how powerful and how destructive love could be. For this was truly love. Not just a dreamy fantasy, but the need to share everything, both the passion and the pain.

  “I have to go.”

  Her whisper fell into the silence. Charged silence. Something dark and intense shadowed his eyes as they searched hers, and she was suddenly afraid that he would see too much, right down into her secret heart, to the truth of her love for him.

  “I have to go,” she repeated.

  And yet she couldn’t tear herself away from that look in his eyes, couldn’t force her feet to move toward the door. And when he took another step closer she couldn’t move from the spot.

  “Sabrina,” he murmured in a low, husky whisper. “Please stay.”

  “Oh, Michael, we’re making a big mistake.” Her breathless voice shook as he reached out and cupped her face in his strong, lean fingers.

  She slowly put a trembling hand against his cheek, feeling the slight roughness of stubble. He turned his face and gently pressed a kiss into her palm with firm, hot lips.

  One kiss, just one kiss. Surely she could afford that much. With a small moan, she moved against him, suddenly consumed by the hunger to feel him, to have his arms about her, to know the pressure of his heated flesh against her body.

  His mouth ground against hers. He parted her lips with almost brutal intensity. A tormented moan escaped her as she strained closer, clutching the hair at his nape with her fingers, unable to get close enough.

  With a groan he lifted her off her feet. His strong arms wrapped around her tightly, molding her to the length of his body. One hand cupped her buttocks and pressed her closer as she wrapped her legs around him. His erection ground against her pelvis. She rocked rhythmically against him. This feeling was too intense, almost frightening.

  “Please let me go. Don’t make me do this.”

  He murmured against her mouth. “You’re free to walk out of here any time you want.” But his lips were hot and persuasive.

  She groaned with frustration. She could no more walk out of here than she could sprout wings and fly. Her mouth opened wider to his, greedy and desperate for more as his tongue entwined and retreated and teased her, driving her wild.

  He pulled away a fraction. “You’ve had your chance to escape. It’s too late.”

  She pressed herself even more tightly against him. “I’d rather die of ecstasy than frustration.”

  A shaky laugh escaped him. “Your wish is my command.”

  And then his mouth found hers again and without breaking the kiss he set her down and began unbuckling her belt and pushed her jeans down over her hips.

  She did the same for him and looked down to see his erection straining the white cotton underwear. She reached down to cup her hand around him.

  He let out a sharp hiss. “Can we go someplace a little more comfortable?”

  Her voice was a shaky whisper against his mouth. “What’s wrong with the carpet? I can’t wait a second longer.”

  She felt a shudder go through him as he sank to his knees and laid her down on the floor, straddling her. He leaned over and captured one tightly aching nipple in his mouth, hot and wet through the cotton T-shirt. She arched against him in feverish pleasure, desperate to feel his devastating assault on her naked flesh.

  She pulled at her shirt and he lifted his head, allowing her to drag it upward. He sharply drew in his breath as his gaze ran over her.

  Slowly, excruciatingly slowly, he lowered his head again and she felt an avalanche of sensation as his mouth closed over one nipple. Fingers trembling, she began unbuttoning his shirt, desperate to feel his skin against hers. Running her hands over the smooth golden flesh of his torso, she gave a soft moan of pleasure as he moved to her other breast, now sensuously suckling, now biting down gently on the hardened peak until she burned at fever pitch. She wanted him now.

  She slid her hand lower over his stomach, to slip beneath the waistband of his underwear until her fingers closed around him, his skin hot and hard.

  He sucked in his breath with a shudder. “Now you’ve gone and done it.”

  She gave a throaty laugh, feeling bold and triumphant in her feminine power. “Done what?” she teased.

  “Pushed me past the point of no return, lady.” He grinned, and that damned dimple appeared.

  Her gaze ran over his long, lean body, over the smooth muscles that rippled down his stomach to his erection. He was so beautiful, he took her breath away. The naked heat in his eyes as he looked back at her made her hunger grow by leaps and bounds.

  “Promises, promises...” she groaned as she reached for him, not even able to wait those few milliseconds before she could touch him again. She wanted to take him into her mouth, caress him with her tongue, taste the very essence of him.

  He nuzzled her lips, his breath warm and rapid, as she could feel him hard and ready, nudging against her. She couldn’t wait to feel him inside her, to take him into the sanctuary of her body, to keep him safe with her love and bring him pleasure.

  “I’m sorry, love, but I can’t wait another moment.” He sighed into her mouth, sheathing himself deep inside her with one powerful movement.

  “Oh, Michael,” she moaned.

  “Shhh...” He soothed her, pushing the damp tendrils of hair off her brow with one trembling hand, his breathing labored as he covered her face with small, tender kisses. “Take it easy, darling. I don’t want
to hurt you.”

  The momentary discomfort had faded, and now all she wanted was to feel him moving inside her. She rocked her hips enticingly against him. Even the slightest movement added to the building throbbing heat. He shuddered and began to thrust rhythmically into her.

  The sound of her name on his lips was incredibly arousing. She pulled his head back to hers and took his mouth in a drugging kiss, as his right hand massaged one breast, teasing the aching nipple. His body convulsed and then finally the pressure tightening inside her exploded in an intense, shuddering climax.

  She murmured, “Michael, I love...” and caught herself just in time. “...what you do to me.”

  Looking down at her, his hair damp and ruffled, his chest heaving, Michael’s face lit up with that devilish grin and her heart expanded with love and incredible joy.

  He slumped onto her, nestling his head against her shoulder.

  So sated that she couldn’t move, Sabrina didn’t mind the weight of his body one little bit. She relished it. Her eyes fluttered closed and her lips curved in a smile.

  The feeling of his flesh against her only added to the drowsy contentment. He rolled to one side, but still she could feel the length of his body against hers, floating away in a dreamy lethargy as his hands moved gently over her, still caressing.

  After a while he picked her up in his arms. She knew she should leave, but she couldn’t even rouse herself enough to open her eyes. He laid her down on cool sheets and stretched out beside her, pulling her possessively close as his arms tightened around her. She nestled into the crook of his shoulder, enveloped in the smell of his skin, feeling his flesh against her lips. This was contentment. This was where she wanted to be.

  * * *

  SHE OPENED HER EYES to see the sky pale in the first light of dawn. Turning her head on the pillow, she saw Michael beside her. He lay on his back, his face relaxed in sleep, vulnerable and heartbreaking and wonderful.

  She resisted the urge to touch him, to kiss his lips. Carefully, so as not to wake him, she slipped out of bed. She had to get away from here.

  Last night had been wonderful and absolute madness at the same time. It should never have happened. Yet she couldn’t regret it for a second.

  But now it was morning. And last night didn’t change anything—it only made things more complicated. She would have to face him eventually, but not now, not yet.

  Heading for the sitting room, she began picking up her clothes, then turned for one last look. He lay on his back, the white sheet against his golden skin, and for a moment she was tempted to crawl back in beside him.

  But then she turned resolutely, dressed and left.

  The cool morning breeze ruffled her hair as she stepped out of the house, but it wasn’t cold enough to make her feel chilled to the bone this way. She wrapped her arms tightly around her body, hugging herself against the coldness inside.

  She loved him, as she’d never loved anybody before. As she could never imagine loving anybody again. But it wouldn’t work for them.

  Pausing at the gates, she looked back at the house, standing silent and still in the early-morning light. This was a world where she didn’t belong.

  It took an hour and a half to walk home through the waking city. Time she desperately needed in order to think. Her head whirled with a dizzying jumble of needs and desires. Why couldn’t she just let it happen?

  The walk did nothing to clear her head at all, or raise her spirits. By the time she turned onto her own street, she felt overwhelmed by the longing for what could not be.

  She had almost reached her house when Michael got out of the Jag parked in front.

  Tight-lipped and pale with anger, he stepped onto the sidewalk to block her way. “Where have you been?”

  Numb with shock, she stopped. “I walked home. What are you doing here?”

  “Didn’t you think I would come?”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “You’re kidding me.” His brow furrowed in pained disbelief. “You didn’t think...after what we had together last night...”

  “Please let’s not talk about last night.”

  He went still and his voice took on an ominous note. “Why shouldn’t we talk about last night?”

  She turned away and his hand closed around her arm, none-too-gently, and turned her to face him. “Why shouldn’t we talk about last night?” he repeated.

  “There’s nothing to talk about.” Couldn’t he see her heart was breaking and she just wanted to be left alone? She pulled away and walked quickly up the path.

  He was right behind her, holding the screen door open while she fumbled for her key. His tension made her clumsy as she fitted it into the lock. She felt weary and heartsick, and the last thing she wanted was to fight.

  “Please, Michael, I’m very tired right now. If we have to talk, can’t it be later?”

  “No.”

  She stepped over the threshold and he followed her in.

  “My God, Sabrina! I wake up and you’re gone. Not even a note. I come here and you’re not home. What was I supposed to think?”

  “I think you’re making too much of this.” Half-turned away, she put a hand to her brow and closed her aching eyes. “As you can see, I’m perfectly safe. And now I really wish you’d leave.”

  “What happened?” He cupped the nape of her neck, moving around to face her, gently but forcefully holding her captive. “Last night...”

  “Last night was a terrible mistake....”

  “How can you say that?” He brought her face closer to his as his hot gaze descended to her lips. “Sabrina...”

  “No, Michael.” She tore away from him, trembling in response to the tormented sound of his voice. “Nothing has changed. All those reasons we had before for not getting involved. They still exist. We’ve made a mistake, Michael. I think we’d better forget about it before somebody gets hurt,” she finished, low and anguished.

  “This is crazy.” He turned away for a moment and ran a hand through his hair. “Well, I can’t forget.” He spun around to face her, anger and hurt warring on his face.

  “What can I say? There’s no way this can work.”

  For a long moment he only looked at her, with bleak, empty eyes. “So where do we go from here, Sabrina? And please don’t tell me I have to forget about it.”

  “I don’t know, I don’t know,” she groaned and sank her head in her hands. “We’ve got to be sensible. You know this won’t work.”

  He reached out and laced a hand through the short hair at the nape of her neck, forcing her to look up at him. “How do you know it won’t work unless we give it a chance?”

  It was so hard to resist the entreaty in his eyes. “It’s all too complicated.” She felt utterly miserable.

  “It doesn’t have to be.” His thumb traced the line of her mouth, a drugging caress. It was so hard to fight the need, yet she struggled to do what she had to do.

  “It isn’t that easy. You’re a Worth.”

  He gave a small smile. “Guilty as charged. But does that mean we can’t give ourselves a chance? See what happens?”

  “And if it doesn’t work, what then?”

  “You want guarantees?”

  “Yes,” she whispered, hearing the finality in her own voice.

  He expelled his breath in a long sigh. “We could be dead tomorrow. There are no guarantees.”

  “We both know there are too many reasons why this cannot happen.”

  “But I want you, and you want me.”

  “And what if I said I don’t want you.”

  “I’d say you were lying.”

  Before she knew what was happening, he pulled her into his arms and took her mouth in a hard, possessive kiss. She struggled to pull away but he held her tightly. With a little moan of defeat, she sagged against him. All she could do was resist the urge to hold him, the urge to kiss him back, until finally he let her go.

  Breathing rapidly, voice ragged with emotion, he looked down into
her eyes. “I still say you’re lying.” He turned and walked out, closing the door quietly behind him.

  She stood frozen to the spot until she heard the car slowly pull away, and then the tears began coursing down her cheeks.

  He was hurt, he was lonely. She was the only person he could talk to about Colin and he was reaching out to her for consolation, for physical closeness. Even a strong man like Michael needed a shoulder to lean on. Right now he needed her. But when that need no longer existed, what then?

  8

  SABRINA STEPPED OFF the packed streetcar to the familiar roar of traffic and the sound of honking horns. The noise was preferable to the press of bodies in the crowded trolley. Right now, however, she could barely cope with either. And yet here she was, heading back into the pressure cooker.

  She needed to be somewhere quiet and serene where she could collect her thoughts, calm her soul. But somehow, she’d get through this day and work, just as she had all the other days since that Saturday morning two weeks ago when Michael had walked out of her house. As always, her thoughts obsessively returned to Michael, and to the glorious night they’d had together. There was undeniably something wonderful between them, and no reason why they couldn’t be happy...for a while. But it wouldn’t work, she told herself for the thousandth time.

  Up ahead, people were clustered in front of the main entrance to Worth’s. Strange, she thought. No big sales were scheduled until the end of the month. But it didn’t register completely. Nothing really registered these days.

  The crowd was so large, it blocked the pavement, forcing pedestrians out onto the road and disrupting traffic. Cars were honking, drivers were swearing, bicycle couriers were nimbly dodging around everybody.

  As she got closer, she saw people marching with placards. To her horror several were blazoned with the slogan, BAH HUMBUG, EBENEZER WORTH!

  “Oh my God!” It couldn’t be.

  Quickening her pace, she reached the edge of the crowd. “What’s happening? What are you people—Charlie!” she exclaimed at the sight of a familiar white head. He turned at the sound of her voice and made his way through the crowd toward her.

 

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