by Alison Kent
Gulping down the last of her coffee, Josie darted a gaze at the man in the corner. “Me, too.”
There was magic happening at Court du Chaud this Christmas.
She could feel it.
2
Number 17
Court du Chaud
MAX STOOD LOOKING out his front window long after Josie had left. Even without the briefcase, he knew she headed to work by the shapely length of hose-covered legs and stylish pumps exposed beneath the hem of her neat coat. She’d looked so professional and intent, a tantalizing stranger, and a smile played around his lips as he tried to reconcile the girl he’d once known with the woman who’d been playing very erotic games with him.
Since his return to Court du Chaud, Max had learned quite a few things about the woman Josie had grown to be. That she’d grown into such a beauty didn’t surprise him. That she’d grown into a beauty willing to reach out and boldly take what she wanted did.
She’d surprised him most by wanting him.
Max remembered the first night he’d glanced across the alley to find her showcased in her bedroom window. The darkness outside had surprised him. He couldn’t remember how much time had passed since he’d come upstairs to his grandmother’s bedroom to sort through her personal things. What he’d found had been seriously personal. In her vanity, he’d found a stack of envelopes bound with gold ribbon, the paper brittle and yellowed with the years.
Love letters from his grandfather.
Curiosity about his grandparents had made him start reading, and he’d lost himself inside their lives as young lovers during a world war that had kept them apart.
He’d stayed in that wildly romantic place until soft light had reached across the alley to illuminate Josie, an unexpected vision of loveliness that had dragged him back to reality….
She was only a blur behind the white sheers. At first glance he recalled a lifetime of stories about ghosts that haunted the court, yet this woman was no ghost. He quickly recognized Josie, her slender body a smudge of shifting shadow as she moved around her bedroom, lifting her arms to unfasten her hair, shaking out the heavy mass.
He sat there, at first stunned then bedazzled by the sight of her behind those sheers, a filmy barrier that didn’t shield as much as tantalize. He could imagine the shiny waves pouring over her shoulders, envision her eyes sparkling with excitement.
She moved to the dresser then stood before what he guessed was a mirror, drawing a brush through that silky mass with leisurely strokes, filling him with forbidden thoughts, making him imagine how her hair might feel in his hands.
He was struck by the intensity of his reaction, by how she breathed such promise into a simple task, each stroke a sensual play of motion and grace….
When she finally set down the brush and slipped open a dresser drawer to lift out clothing, she had him clutching the sides of the chair to keep anchored to the seat, resisting the urge to move to the window.
Then the sheers lifted on a night breeze. Suddenly Max could see Josie clearly. Raising her arms above her head, she pulled off a filmy camisole and gifted him with a perfect view of her breasts.
From this distance, he couldn’t see details, couldn’t know if her nipples gathered into tight peaks, but the sight rooted him to the spot, froze his breath as he waited for her to snap off the light and end the show.
But she just slipped off her skirt and began peeling away her hose. Then she bent over to pull on sexy shorts, treated him to a prime shot of her backside, and by the time she crawled into bed and turned off the light, his heart throbbed so hard, he thought it would explode. He should feel guilty for invading her privacy, but all he felt was grateful for the dazzling encounter that made him feel so alive….
Josie had become his lifeline in the darkness that night, salvation when he needed it most. From that moment forth, his days began blurring in anticipation of her nightly performances, making him finally face the reality of what his life had become.
Empty.
But reading his grandparents’ letters and becoming involved with Josie had made him question the loneliness he’d felt for so long, made him understand how he’d cut himself off from everything really important in his life.
Now he stared into the court, acknowledging that home still felt familiar. Since his parents and grandfather had died in a boating accident when he was young, Max had been reared in his grandmother’s home, becoming a part of Court du Chaud as if he’d been born here.
The Russell family next door at Number 16 had embraced him as much more than their son’s best friend, too. They’d helped fund his way through private school and included him on family vacations. They’d become family, and after his fallout with Lucas, he’d needed to prove himself, to make good with his life so he felt worthy of their support and his grandmother’s unwavering devotion.
He’d used his company’s ranking on the stock exchange and his portfolio as the yardstick. He’d placed more importance on repaying the Russells’ college loans and paying off his grandmother’s mortgage and financial obligations than on staying involved with the people who’d cared about him.
He’d accomplished his goals, but had still gone on proving himself. It was only now, while sorting through the remnants of his grandmother’s life, that he realized if given a choice, she’d have likely sacrificed financial security to see him more.
Max had made so many errors of judgment and only glimpsed the truth now that he let himself feel again. Josie’s performances had breathed life back into him, and he’d begun questioning the decisions he’d made through the years.
For the first time in forever, he thought about the excitement he’d once felt on Christmas morning, racing down the stairs to see if Santa had visited during the night. He remembered the daring he’d always felt with Lucas as they dreamt up wild schemes to perpetrate the myth that a pirate ghost was cursed to haunt Court du Chaud forever.
He’d once felt alive.
Max wanted to grasp that feeling with both hands again, didn’t want to waste another second when he’d already wasted so much time. He wanted to cross the alley, even knowing that taking this next step meant facing his past, and Lucas.
He owed that to Josie, and himself.
When the telephone rang a short time later, Max glanced at the display with a mixture of resignation and relief. It was still early in California, but he’d explained the importance of his business to an assistant when he’d made the call yesterday.
Taking a deep breath, Max steeled himself to face the man who’d once been like a brother. He had to resolve their past to make way for the future. Then he reached for the receiver. “Lucas, thanks for returning my call.”
LA VEILLE DE NOËL.Notre nuit pour la fantaisie.
Christmas Eve. Our night for fantasy.
That was the response Josie had sent back to his invitation, so he’d spent his day planning a fantasy Christmas Eve. Tonight would be their first official night together, although he still found it ironic that after several weeks of corresponding and playing their intimate game, they still hadn’t spoken beyond a few heartfelt condolences during his grandmother’s services.
Lights twinkled in the foliage along her walkway, and Max felt more eager than ever before, an excitement that spurred him to take the porch steps two at a time. He thrust aside thoughts of the time when he’d run in and out of this town house as often as he had his own.
He’d already made the first move to make peace with Lucas, who’d laughed upon hearing that Max and Josie were interested in resuming a friendship.
“I never told my sister what caused our problem, so you owe her an explanation,” Lucas had said. “Square things with Josie, and you’ve squared them with me. Then God help you, Max, because once my sister sets her mind on something, there’s absolutely nothing she won’t do to get it.”
Max wasn’t sure what to make of that warning, but as the willing audience of Josie’s steamy performances, he agreed with Lucas’s assessmen
t of her determination. He and Josie had a lot to talk about to bridge the distance across the alley, to clear away the past and make their relationship real.
When the door opened, Max found himself staring inside with an unexpected sense of longing. Yet it wasn’t the house that struck such deep chords, but the woman who appeared, the coach lamp spilling light onto her face, a face both familiar yet new.
When he’d left Court du Chaud, Josie had been caught firmly between being a girl and a woman. She’d fulfilled her potential far beyond his expectations. Willowy and slender, the top of her head came right to his chin. Josie, the charming girl he’d once known, had grown to be the exquisitely beautiful woman he’d always known she would.
Max found his gaze locked onto every detail…. The way the light washed her chocolate hair with golden highlights, bathed her features in a glow that made her green eyes seem brighter, her pink mouth entirely kissable. And even more beautiful was her welcoming smile, a vibrant, easy smile that assured him she was as excited as he was.
Their shared past might never have been. Suddenly, all the intimacy they’d explored together, the letters filled with sexy requests and nights of erotic performances stretched between them. They were adults who’d covered a lot of ground together and were eager to cover more.
“Merry Christmas, Josie.” Bringing her hands to his lips, he pressed a kiss to her soft skin, touching her. Finally. Her hands were warm, satin smooth and the moment became surreal with her taste on his mouth, her scent on his breath.
“Merry Christmas, Max.”
Her smile sparkled in her eyes, and she was a vision in cream lace, some ultrafeminine dress both flowy and clingy in a way that made him notice all her curves. He couldn’t help lingering over her hands. A blush colored her cheeks, and he knew she felt the moment as intensely as he.
Once they might have been friends, but now they were almost strangers with bare skin and an alley between them.
“Come on in.” The words broke from her lips in a breathy burst, and her hands slipped from his as she stepped back into the foyer.
Moving inside, he waited while she closed the door and swept past, unable to keep his gaze from skimming over all that flowy lace. He could envision her long legs below, had seen those shapely legs bared in her window, had fantasized about peeling away her hose and touching all her creamy skin.
His night had finally arrived.
She swept a hand toward the living room, which was filled with so many poinsettias and red roses the place might have been a floral warehouse. “All right, I have to ask. How did you load up my house with all these gorgeous flowers? I keep a spare key outside, but not in the same place my parents did.”
“I want to keep that a secret for right now, if you don’t mind.” He’d get around to telling her about his conversation with Lucas, once they’d had a chance to talk.
“I love secrets. And surprises. I was completely surprised when I walked in the door after work. I’ve never seen my place so Christmas-y, and that’s saying a lot.”
It was indeed. Josie’s decorations went far beyond a decorated tree. A winter village complete with snow-topped hills and houses with twinkling lights in the windows. A nativity scene displayed on the fireplace mantel, and a Santa laughed in his sleigh while reindeer carried him up the balustrade toward the town house’s second floor.
“I like what you’ve done around here,” he said. “It’s different than I remember.”
“My parents expected me to go off to college like Lucas. They wanted to retire to Florida, so I talked them into selling me the house then remodeled it to make it mine.”
Max glanced at the buff-colored walls and elaborate rattan furniture with deep, plush cushions. A decor that was homey and welcoming yet whimsical. Very Josie.
“But you didn’t want to leave New Orleans.”
“No place like it.”
“Have you traveled much?” he asked. “My grandmother told me you stuck close to home with college and work.”
“I don’t have to travel to know New Orleans is special, Max. It’s home. How could any place be like it?”
There was nothing in her tone to make her words an admonishment, but his own nagging guilt made them feel that way. He didn’t get a chance to reply before she continued.
“You’ll have to tell me how New Orleans holds up against all the exciting places you’ve visited. I’ve read about how you jet-set around the world.”
“You’ve read about me?”
She nodded. “In the business section. There are tidbits about you in there all the time. What corporation you’re gobbling up. What evasive maneuvers CEOs are taking to steer out of your path. That sort of thing.”
“I didn’t know you were so interested in business.”
“I’m not. I’m interested in you.” She eyed him like a temptress. “I have to tell you I’m surprised, though. I’ve read all you do is work, but you’ve been home for a month now. How does someone as busy as you manage so much time off work?”
“Owning the company helps,” he said dryly, not entirely sure what to make of her admission. “I’m considering an organizational restructure right now. I’m in the process of deciding whether to buy out my partner and downsize the firm.”
“Really? I haven’t read one word about that. You must be keeping it hush-hush from the media.”
“You’re one of the illustrious few to share in the big company secret.”
“I’m flattered. And surprised again.”
“Why?”
“Downsizing seems inconsistent with the fast track you’ve been on.”
“Do you believe everything you read about me in the business section?”
“Of course not, but Nana always said you planned to take over the world.”
Max heard the echo of his grandmother’s pride, which only reminded him that he hadn’t found time to share with her. Ten years had been a drop in the bucket in her long life, but those had been years they could have spent together. He’d distanced himself even more from the Russell family.
Ten years constituted a significant portion of his life, and he’d spent those years cut off from the people who’d loved him. But no more.
He’d learned his lesson the hard way.
Sliding a bloom from a vase, Max held it to Josie, and when she reached out, he skimmed the dewy petals along her fingers, a reminder that he’d been watching her, wanting her, and was now finally, finally close enough to touch.
“You’ve done so much to make every night memorable since I came back to Court du Chaud, Josie. You’ve pleased me very much. Now I have a chance to please you.” Another graze of those dewy petals across her fingers.
“Welcome home, Max.”
Brushing the rose against her mouth, he traced her lush lips, inspired by her reaction. Her tongue darted out in the wake of his touch, and he watched, the promise of sex swelling between them, no longer a faraway fantasy, but exquisitely real.
She inhaled a breath that made her chest rise sharply, and it was then Max noticed the silver chain around her neck.
Dipping his gaze toward the swell of creamy breasts, he recognized the filigreed angel nestled in her cleavage and wondered that she treasured such a small gift when, according to Lucas, she still didn’t know who’d sent it.
“We have a lot to talk about.” When he lifted his gaze from that swell of creamy skin, he found her smile fading away. Her gaze narrowed, and the moment was broken.
“Why am I not surprised?”
He slid the rose back into a vase. “About what?”
“You wanting to talk.”
“You don’t think that’s where we should start?”
Leaning up on tiptoe, she moved close enough to whisper in his ear. “Max, we’ve already started.”
That sultry voiced reminder whipped through him with the force of a level five hurricane. He had to swallow hard to find his voice. “True. But we need to establish where to go next since we’re goin
g about things in an unusual order.”
“Backward?”
“No. We’ve known each other all our lives. But we have history that needs to be dealt with. We’re moving in a new direction without knowing what we want from each other.”
“Notre nuit pour la fantaisie.” She slipped her fingers around his neck.
Her whole body melted toward him as she pulled him just close enough so they nearly touched, and his breath stalled when she whispered, “The whole point of a fantasy night is that it’s just one night. No past. No family. No reality. Just you and me right now.”
Right now his blood pumped into the red zone, making it tough to think. He could only stare into her beautiful face, into eyes so bright they seemed alive with green fire.
“You don’t know what I want from you.”
She nodded, sending sleek waves tumbling sexily around her shoulders. “You want to touch me. You said so in your letter.”
That sparked a few brain cells and cued him that there was more happening here than he knew. But Max couldn’t figure out what, not with her warm curves tantalizing him with each rise and fall of her breasts.
“I do want to touch you. I think you know how much.” Placing a finger beneath her chin, he willed her to see how deeply he meant what he said, how seriously he took them.
“I want to make up for lost time,” he admitted. “I want to know all about the beautiful woman you’ve grown up to be. I want to know if you’re wearing your hair down because I wrote that I liked it. I want to know if you’re wearing the lingerie I sent beneath your pretty dress.”
He lifted her chin higher and leaned forward to whisper in her ear. “I want to know how much you want me.”
She trembled, a full-bodied motion that belied her bold look. “Yes, I’m wearing my hair down for you, Max, but I won’t tell you what’s under my dress. That’s a surprise.”
Stepping out of his reach with a jaunty toss of her head, she left him staring after her with his heart pounding too hard. “We’ll talk if that’s what you want. May I get you something to drink first?”