One Scandalous Christmas Eve

by Susan Stephens

  ‘You seem distracted,’ Dante commented when the first dance ended.

  ‘Nothing could be further from the truth,’ she assured him. ‘I’m wide awake.’

  ‘And firing on all cylinders,’ he observed, bringing her with him as the band started playing again.

  She should have stopped at that point, excused herself politely and left the floor. Instead, she warned, ‘Behave yourself or I’ll make you sit down to rest that leg.’

  ‘I love that you’re so masterful,’ Dante mocked in a husky whisper, bringing his mouth very close to hers.

  ‘And I love that you accept my authority,’ Jess countered with a half teasing smile. She couldn’t be serious all the time. ‘At one point I thought I’d have trouble with you.’

  ‘You will,’ Dante promised, drawing her closer still.

  * * *

  Dancing with Jess was like seizing hold of a red-hot brand and asking to be consumed by it. Any lingering thought he might have had that they could rewind to achieve their previously careful and polite relationship was now implausible, impossible; it just couldn’t happen. It only took millimetres of subtle shift in their bodies to tell him Jess felt the same. There was no need for grandiose gestures or unnecessary words between them. Coming together like this was enough. No woman had ever felt so right in his arms or been so receptive. There were a lot of beautiful women at the wedding but there was only one Jess. Who made him laugh as she did? Who had the wit to exchange banter that could be funny but was never cruel?

  ‘This is better than I thought,’ she whispered, surprising him with her boldness, and yet not really surprising him at all.

  ‘Better still,’ she murmured when he drew her close.

  Jess’s duties as bridesmaid were the only obstacles he faced. She had a keen eye for detail and noticed everything, which meant leaving his side on a number of occasions to help the wait staff or to answer a guest’s query. Nothing was too much trouble for Jess. Apart from dancing with him, apparently. By now they should be somewhere else, but he hadn’t bargained on dancing with a Girl Scout.

  God bless the Scouts, he reflected, shaking his head with amusement as Jess embarked on yet another mission. He might as well go rest his leg.

  * * *

  The party went on late into the night. When Maria teased Jess into joining her in dancing on the table, Jess laughed. ‘I hope you know I’ve got two left feet.’

  ‘Too late now,’ Maria told her as the bridegroom, Manuel, lifted Jess and deposited her next to his bride. Guests had gathered to watch the spectacle, which meant Jess couldn’t let her new friend down.

  ‘Lift your gown like this,’ Maria instructed as she picked up the hem of her wedding dress to strut a few dramatic flamenco steps. ‘Arch your back and stamp your feet in time to the music. Clap your hands like this.’

  Having been forced to borrow shoes that were becoming increasingly uncomfortable, Jess confined herself to a series of poses and enthusiastic shouts of ‘Olé!’ Carried away by the excellence of Maria’s dancing, she acted on a wave of enthusiasm, so when the music ended and Maria jumped into her bridegroom’s arms, Jess jumped too—straight into the arms of Dante Acosta, who’d been standing watching with a look she found impossible to interpret. Catching her with no effort at all, he carried her away through the crowd.

  So much for her resolve to keep Dante at arm’s length, Jess mused, excitement mounting. This was a night to remember, and whatever came next she was more than ready for it.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  THE HUNGER TO be alone with Jess had been burning a hole through his head throughout the entire wedding. He could think of nothing else but being alone with her, but once they were inside the ranch house he reined in the wolf. Lowering Jess to her feet, he stood in the shadows staring down. ‘Another drink?’

  ‘I haven’t had a drink yet. Bridesmaid duties,’ she reminded him. ‘Clear head and all that?’

  ‘Keeping a clear head is always wise.’

  ‘With you around,’ she agreed cheekily.

  Angling her chin to stare up at him with that same playful, challenging look in her eyes, she plumbed some deep, untapped well inside him. This couldn’t end here. It wouldn’t end here. They continued to stare at each other until the tension snapped, he seized her hand and they headed for the stairs—ran, rushed, with no sign of his injury now. Jess was the woman who’d broken through his reserve, and they were both laughing. It felt good after so long of having nothing to laugh about. Humour was a healing balm, and it was a glorious irony to want Jess so badly and yet be laughing so much that they couldn’t get there fast enough. Tears of laughter were streaming down Jess’s face as she finally dropped down on the stairs. He joined her and when eventually she fell silent that silence was charged with sexual energy. Who needed a bed?

  ‘May I?’ she asked, her voice hoarse with laughter.

  ‘Do I have a choice, señorita?’ he asked as she reached for his belt.

  ‘None at all.’

  Those were the last few moments of calm. The next saw them tearing at each other’s clothes. Several of the tiny buttons down the back of the bridesmaid’s dress bounced down the stairs and skittered across the floor in the hallway.

  To hell with this! He had no intention of making love to Jess on a staircase.

  ‘Dante! Give your leg a break,’ she protested as he swung her into his arms.

  ‘Why? If I injure it again, you’ll have to stay on.’

  ‘Dante, I can’t do that. You know I can’t—’

  That was the last sensible conversation they had. It was as if an atomic force had consumed them both. Crashing into his room, he rocked back against the door, slamming it behind them. Lowering Jess to her feet, he wrenched off his jacket and tossed it on a chair as Jess slipped off her dress with catlike grace. Tugging his shirt free, Jess started work on his zip. At the same time they were kissing wildly, lips, teeth clashing in a dance as old as time. Animal sounds of need escaped their throats until finally he cupped Jess’s face in his hands and silenced her with kisses that were deep and long.

  ‘You’re overdressed,’ she complained when they came up for air.

  ‘So are you,’ he growled as he viewed her flimsy thong.

  Cocking her head to one side, Jess smiled a witchy smile. ‘Do you like it?’

  His groin tightened to the point of pain. ‘Depends on how easily it rips.’

  ‘Why don’t you try it and see?’ she suggested.

  It ripped.

  * * *

  When Dante touched her she was his—right away, no hesitation. Fears and consequences were instantly banished to a place so deep in her mind she doubted they’d ever break free. This was right. This was how it should be. Falling back on the bed, she pulled him down on top of her. Guiding his hand, she directed him shamelessly. Not that Dante needed much direction. Moving her hand away, he continued to pleasure her in more ways than she knew existed.

  ‘Don’t,’ she begged when he pulled away. She needed this—needed Dante. The world she had previously inhabited made no sense now. Without emotion, sensation or risk, it was empty, as everything else was without Dante.

  ‘There are rules,’ he informed her in a husky whisper.

  ‘What? Like you make me wait? You leave me frustrated?’

  ‘I make you show me what you want,’ he added to her list.

  ‘I can’t do that.’

  ‘Why not?’ Dante enquired with his mouth very close to hers.

  Jess’s heart thumped wildly. Surely Dante couldn’t mean she should touch herself in front of him?

  ‘You’re not shy,’ he observed in a clinical tone, ‘and we both know how hungry you are.’

  ‘Just as I know you’re teasing me.’

  ‘Am I?’

  Emotion churned wildly inside her. All her adult life she’d had di
sappointing sexual encounters, and these had left Jess with the firm belief that the pleasure everyone talked about must be overrated. So what did she want Dante to do about it? Prove her wrong? Prove her so wrong she’d be in a worse state than before—wanting him with no possibility of ever having him? She’d end up as chaste as a nun.

  ‘I feel as if I’ve lost you,’ he remarked, staring down. ‘If you’ve changed your mind—’

  ‘I haven’t changed my mind.’ This was what she wanted. At least she’d have something to think back on.

  She shivered with pleasure as Dante ran one slightly roughened palm down the length of her back. ‘You’re beautiful. Why make such a deal out of denying yourself pleasure?’

  She was wedded to her career? That was a flimsy excuse. She wouldn’t be the first professional to cross the line, nor would she be the last.

  Dante had spoiled her for all other men when she was just seventeen. Being older made the risk greater. Making love with Dante would reopen that wound and leave her worse off than before. So she was a coward, Jess concluded, destined to live out her life without knowing if sexual pleasure was even possible.

  ‘I get that you need time,’ Dante murmured, but that didn’t stop him continuing to waken her body until she doubted it would ever sleep again.

  ‘Not too much time,’ she admitted dryly.

  ‘What are you doing?’ he asked as she moved down the bed.

  Putting off the moment? Pleasing Dante? Both of those things.

  What she discovered slowed her right down.

  Were all men this...built exactly to scale?

  ‘You’d better stop,’ he advised.

  ‘I’ve no intention of stopping.’ Brave words, but was this even possible when it took both her hands to encompass him?

  * * *

  Jess won and for the first time ever he was glad to be on the losing side. Tangling his fingers in Jess’s hair, he urged her on. Beyond intuitive, she knew everything about pleasure. Exploring with her lips, her hands and dangerously thrilling passes of her tongue, she cupped him with exquisite sensitivity, and then she teased him with the lightest flicks of her tongue. The instant she took him firmly in both hands, moving them steadily up and down the length of his shaft, she brought him to the edge in seconds.

  Sucking the tip brought his hips off the bed. The master of control was finding it hard to hold on. Pleasure built until it refused to be contained and with a roar of relief he claimed his release. What he hadn’t expected was that Jess would scramble off the bed.

  ‘I shouldn’t be here,’ she blurted out.

  ‘Why not?’ Catching her close, he searched her eyes. ‘Jess, what’s wrong?’

  ‘You know this is wrong. I know it’s wrong—’

  ‘I know nothing of the sort,’ he assured her. But the mood had changed and couldn’t be recovered.

  Swinging off the bed, he crossed the room naked. Jess was right to call a halt. What could he offer her? Very soon he’d be back on top, with a fast-paced life that demanded selfish focus. Polo took him around the world, as did his business. Jess deserved a man who’d be there for her, someone kind and steady who would treasure her as she deserved. He was not that man, though the thought of some unknown goon pawing her made him sick. That didn’t change the facts. He had no right to hold her back from the happiness she deserved.

  Bringing a robe from the adjoining bathroom, he wrapped it around her shoulders. He couldn’t bear seeing her looking so vulnerable. He’d secured a towel around his waist, for her sake rather than his.

  ‘I’m sorry if I led you on,’ she blurted as she moved about the room, gathering up her belongings.

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘You must know,’ she insisted, halting with clothes bundled in her arms to turn and stare at him.

  ‘I’m afraid I don’t. You didn’t lead me anywhere I didn’t want to go. I thought that applied to both of us.’

  ‘I should go,’ she declared, scouring the room to make sure she hadn’t left anything behind.

  ‘Go,’ he invited, spreading his arms wide.

  He frowned as he watched her leave. Jess was a sensualist, and beautiful, and he had thought her eager to be with him. What on earth was going on in her head? Yes, she was a professional woman with a successful career, but why was she denying herself a life?

  * * *

  Why couldn’t she accept pleasure for pleasure’s sake? Jess reasoned as she rushed to her room in the guest wing of the estancia. Wasn’t that what other people did? Where was it written that every relationship must be everlasting? Why couldn’t she accept a night of passion with Dante and leave it at that? Was she really bound by duty, or by fear that her teenage dreams could be dust by the morning? Would any man succeed in challenging her belief that she was better on her own, to sort out her life, care for her father, progress her career—

  And still be lonely?

  Well done, Jess. Everything and nothing has changed.

  After a sleepless night she went to the stables to check on the horses. It was early and the yard was mostly silent. The estancia had that morning-after feeling that so often hung over a venue after a big event like a soothing web of remembered music and laughter. The door to the facility slid open on well-oiled hinges, and it didn’t take long for Jess to satisfy herself that her father’s ponies were still happy and contented. Dragging deep on the familiar scent of warm horse and clean hay, she went to take up her usual perch on a hay bale. Tucked away in the shadows of a stable had always been Jess’s safe place of choice. It gave her chance to think, to plan, to reflect, and thankfully not regret too much this morning. Life could continue as it always had, a Dante-free zone with no more wild thoughts at a wedding or anywhere else.

  With a sigh, she rested back. Going without sleep had left her exhausted. The sound was a cue for Dante’s big old dog Bouncer to come and nuzzle her leg. As if he understood the turmoil inside her and was determined to soothe her troubled mind, he settled himself down beside her. Resting his head on her lap, Bouncer exhaled heavily, which made tears sting Jess’s eyes at the thought of leaving the estancia, and all the many things she would miss. When she should be thrilled that Dante was cured...

  ‘Stealing my dog now?’

  Breath shot out of her lungs, with surprise at seeing him and the horrified response to the film reel playing behind her eyes of their aborted love scene last night. ‘Dante? What are you doing here?’

  ‘Checking on the animals, like you. I didn’t expect to find you here. But then again...’

  ‘What?’

  ‘This is exactly where I should expect to find you.’

  ‘You know me so well,’ she teased, trying to keep things light.

  ‘Hardly at all,’ he argued. Staring down with concern, he added, ‘Are you okay?’

  ‘Of course,’ she blustered, stroking Bouncer’s ears furiously.

  ‘Hey, leave some of that for me,’ Dante insisted as he hunkered down beside her. ‘You’re spoiling him.’

  ‘And so are you,’ she remarked with a smile as Dante fed his old dog some treats. How did anyone manage to look so laid-back and gorgeous so early in the morning—after everything that had happened last night? She felt like a failure, like a ragbag in banged-up jeans and a faded top. It didn’t help that Dante was wearing exactly the same sort of clothes, because they only made him seem more tantalisingly attractive and out of reach than ever.

  ‘I’m glad I caught you,’ he said in the most relaxed tone ever. ‘I have to cancel my eight o’clock therapy session because of some pressing business.’

  Her face was burning red with thoughts of last night, and it was a relief to have this shift of focus forced on her. ‘No problem,’ she blurted on a tight throat. ‘We can change the time.’ Gently moving Bouncer’s head from her knee, she stood up. Dante stood too. ‘Any time
to suit you,’ she offered.

  ‘Hey, you’ve fulfilled your contract, remember?’

  Dante was smiling down as warmly as ever, so why was ice flooding her veins?

  ‘Have this one on me?’ she offered awkwardly.

  ‘I would never take advantage of you.’

  ‘Even if I want you to?’ So now she sounded desperate. The humiliation of last night put another thought in her mind: Dante was done with amateur hour.

  ‘I’ve arranged your flight home,’ he said as if confirming this.

  Yes, she’d half expected it, but still she was stunned into silence. It was as if the floor was dropping away beneath her feet, and she was dropping away with it.

  ‘Thank you. That’s very kind of you. I appreciate it’ She spoke all the expected words on autopilot. Her lips felt numb, and she had to remind herself that she had always intended to be home in time for Christmas. ‘Time flies,’ she murmured distractedly.

  ‘When you’re enjoying yourself?’ Dante suggested wryly.

  ‘I enjoy seeing you without a cane,’ she said honestly.

  ‘My PA will be able to tell you all the details. You’ll be escorted every step of the way—taxi home, et cetera.’

  ‘Thank you,’ she said again as Dante pulled away from the wall. He was clearly in a hurry to leave. ‘Don’t let me keep you.’

  Instead of leaving, he took hold of her hands. ‘Jess, this isn’t over. I really do have business to attend to.’

  ‘You don’t have to explain to me.’

  ‘I think I do. I’m not punishing you or sending you away. Last night was a learning experience for both of us.’