The Surprise Christmas Bride

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What did she know about life? Or herself, for that matter? She didn’t need him cluttering up her future just when it was beginning to open up in front of her.

So he had made up his mind to keep his desires in check. To keep a watchful distance from Casey until she’d had a chance to explore the world a bit.

But he’d never counted on having her ambush him in his bedroom.

“You’d better get out of here,” he said past the hard knot of need lodged in his throat.

“But I’ve been waiting for you,” she said. Jake watched as she held the covers to her and came up on her knees. She looked at him and shook her hair back away from her face.

He dragged a short harsh breath into straining lungs. Almost unwillingly his gaze shot to the swell of her breasts, where her armor of quilt and sheet was beginning to dip. Every breath she drew tantalized him, pushing him closer to the limits of his own endurance. His palms itched to cup her breasts. He could almost taste her sweet warmth.

Deliberately he clenched his hands at his sides and let his angry frustration color his voice.

“Well, now that I’m here,” he said, “you can go.”

“No.”

“No?”

“Oh, Jake…” She leaned toward him, unknowingly letting that quilt drop another inch or two until the tops of her breasts were bared to his view. She held out one hand to him. “Don’t you see? I’ve wanted this to happen for so long—and now we’re moving away. I don’t know when I’ll be back.”

That had occurred to him, as well. In fact, it was the main reason he’d left the party early. He hadn’t felt like celebrating the fact that the one woman he was interested in was being spirited out of town. He wasn’t a big believer in the old adage “Absence makes the heart grow fonder.” No doubt, Casey would forget all about him in a year or two. As would he forget about her.

Which made it even more imperative that he got her the hell out of his bedroom.

“Casey, you shouldn’t be here.”

“This is exactly where I should be,” she countered, and scooted to the edge of the bed, dragging the bed-clothes with her. Climbing off the mattress, she walked to him and laid one hand on his forearm.

His skin seemed to burn at her touch, right through the fabric of his shirt. He clenched his jaw tight, determined to ignore the almost electric feel of her so close to him.

“I couldn’t wait for you to take the first step anymore,” she said softly, breathlessly. “I’m out of time. I had to tell you.”

“Tell me what?” Say it, he pleaded silently. Say it and go.

“I love you.”

Like a powerful fist to his midsection, Jake felt the blow. He stared into her eyes and saw everything he’d ever hoped to see shining back at him. Lord, how he wanted to tell her the same thing. He wanted to grab her, pull her tightly against him and lose himself in her. He wanted to slide into her warmth and hear her quiet moans of pleasure as they discovered each other. But he couldn’t. It didn’t matter if she claimed to be in love with him.

Nothing had changed. She was still too young. Too inexperienced to know what she wanted. She was still the kid who had followed him around the yard, peppering him with questions until he’d wanted to lock her in Annie’s bedroom.

Despite the fact that she didn’t look or feel like a kid at the moment, he couldn’t take advantage of her feelings to ease the ache throbbing inside him. And he certainly couldn’t expect a kid her age to make some kind of lifelong pledge of love.

Although he thought it might kill him, he forced himself to say, “Thank you, Casey. I appreciate it.”

Her eyes mirrored the questions racing through her brain.

“You appreciate it?”

“Casey, I know you don’t want to hear this—”

“Then don’t say it. Please, Jake.” Her fingers curled into the front of his shirt. “Don’t say it.”

“I have to.” He reached up and covered her hand with one of his own. “I’m thirty years old, honey. You’re just nineteen.”

“I turn twenty next month.”

“Twenty, then,” he conceded. His thumb smoothed across her knuckles and he felt the warmth of that touch right to his bones. “You haven’t even finished college yet.”

“What does that have to do with us?”

“There is no ‘us,’” he said, despite the pain that statement cost him.

“There could be.”

He shook his head.

“Are you saying you don’t feel anything for me?” she demanded.

“Casey…”

“I know you do, darn it. I know you feel something. I’ve seen the way you look at me. It’s the same way I look at you.”

Damn.

“Please, don’t turn me away. I don’t want to leave you.” She stepped closer, reached up and cupped the back of his neck. Slowly she drew his head down to hers, then pressed her lips to his.

Jake groaned and forced himself to stand perfectly still under her gentle assault. The touch of her mouth was electrifying. Something sparked between the two of them. Something rare and magical. Still, he made no move to hold her, instead calling on the strength of his will to resist the incredible temptation she offered.

Then she dropped the quilt and sheet and reached up to wrap both arms around his neck. She pressed herself to him and he felt her hardened nipples rubbing against his chest. Desire rocketed through him, hard and hot. He wanted to do the right thing here, but Lord, he was only human.

When his arms closed around her bare back, a purr of satisfaction rumbled from her throat. His hands moved up and down the length of her spine, touching, exploring. Her lips parted and his tongue swept inside her mouth, tasting her for the first time. She was sweeter, more intoxicating than he had ever imagined. Instantly he knew that if he didn’t stop that minute, he would never be able to let her go.

Abruptly he released her and took a step back.

“What’s wrong?” she whispered. Her eyes were glazed with the smoldering fires of a passion just born. It was almost enough to make him forget his blasted attempt at nobility. Almost.

“What’s wrong?” he repeated. “This.” He bent down, scooped up the quilt and quickly draped it around her. “This whole thing is wrong,” he snapped, then took another step away from her.

“How can it be when it feels so right?”

“Damn, Casey! I’m not made of stone, all right?” He glared at her briefly, then stomped past her to stare out the windows at the darkness outside. “Do us both a favor and leave, huh? Now. Before we both do something that can’t be undone.”

He heard her sniff and knew she was crying. Something cold settled in his chest, but he didn’t look at her. He knew that if he turned and saw tears on her face, this hard-won battle would be lost. An eternity-filled moment later she spoke again.

“All right then, I’ll leave.”

Thank God.

“You’re wrong, you know,” she said, and he flinched at the pain in her voice. “About us. Age has nothing to do with love, Jake Parrish. And someday you’re going to be sorry you sent me away tonight.”

The memories ended abruptly as those last whispered words echoed in his mind.

He had been sorry.

Every night since.

But especially so tonight.

“So,” she asked, “were you ever sorry?”

Jake turned slowly, inevitably, to face the woman standing in the open doorway of the bedroom. She’d finally gotten out of that wet wedding gown and was now draped in an oversize turquoise bath sheet.

“Sorrier than you’ll ever know,” he admitted finally.

“Good.” Casey walked into the room holding his gaze with hers. Strange, the last time she’d been alone with this man she’d been stark naked. Now she wore only a towel. Judging by the flash of awareness in his eyes, he’d certainly noticed.

She’d only had to glance at him to know that he was reliving that long-ago night. Somehow it made her feel better to know that Jake, too, had regrets. She wondered what he would think if he knew her main regret was that she had allowed him to chase her away.

“Here.” He held out his robe toward her. “You can wear this while I try to find you some sweats or something.”

“Thanks,” she said, and took the robe. She slipped into the garment, pulling it on right over the towel already covering her. Once the terry-cloth belt was tied at her waist, she turned back to him.

“I tossed my dress across the shower rod since it’s still dripping mud. I hope that’s OK.”

“Sure.”

He looked as uncomfortable as she felt.

History repeating itself?

“This isn’t exactly how I imagined my wedding night turning out,” she said suddenly on a laugh that held more nervousness than humor.

“What happened?” he asked. “Why are you here and not on some elaborate honeymoon?”

Another choked laugh shot from her throat before she could stop it. “I think the rules are you have to actually be married to go on a honeymoon.”

His gaze narrowed and even in the semidarkness, she could see his familiar scowl.

Casey reached up and pushed her towel-dried but still-damp hair back from her face. Walking to the bed, Casey perched on the edge of the mattress, bracing her heels on the bed frame.

“What happened, Casey?” he asked again.

She set her elbows on her knees, glanced at Jake and shrugged. “Oh, nothing much. My groom decided at the last minute that marrying me wasn’t such a good idea, after all.” Her fingers plucked at the robe’s worn fabric as she talked.

“He didn’t show up?”

How much more humiliation was she supposed to survive in one day? It had been bad enough being jilted. Admitting the facts to Jake was another trip down embarrassment lane. But she supposed she might as well get used to the question. Lord knew she would probably be hearing it from everyone for the next several months.

“Yes,” she finally said, “he was there. Long enough to give one of the ushers a note for me.”

“A note?” Jake’s voice was hard and disbelieving.

She held her breath when he walked to her side and sat down next to her. He made no move to touch her, though, and she didn’t know whether she was relieved or disappointed.

“Yeah.” She glanced at him and smiled halfheartedly. “It seems Steven suddenly had an urge to visit Mexico.”

“Bastard.”

“My thoughts exactly,” she said, and unconsciously patted his hand. “At least at the time.” But now that she thought about it, she was amazed to discover that the anger that had burst into life so swiftly had disappeared again almost as swiftly. Strange. All she felt now was relief—tinged with lingering traces of humiliation.

She hadn’t been madly in love with Steven. Now she wasn’t sure if she had even loved him at all. She had certainly liked him. Well, at least until today. He was a nice man, from what her mother liked to call a good family. Translation, Casey thought, rich.

Their parents had wanted the match and she and Steven had simply drifted into it. She couldn’t even recall her ex-fiancе actually proposing. It had simply been taken for granted.

She scowled, lifted one hand and rubbed at her forehead. The mother of all headaches was just beginning to throb.

“I’m sorry, Casey.”

“Why?” she asked. “You weren’t the one rejecting me this time.”

“Let’s not go there, all right?”

“Why not?” She turned her head and looked directly into his eyes. The eyes she used to dream about. “This is my wedding night, after all. What better thing to at least talk about than sex? Or the lack thereof.”

“I left the kettle on,” he said, and moved to get up. “Why don’t we go and get you some hot tea?”

“I turned it off when the water boiled,” she told him, and waved him back down to the mattress.

“Casey,” he said, and shifted a bit farther from her, “you’ve had a bad day. Why not just get some sleep, huh?”

“I don’t want to sleep, Jake.” In fact, she’d never been more awake. Ordinarily she wouldn’t have considered seeking him out and asking him about that night—but now that the fates had provided her with the opportunity, she really wanted to know just why he’d turned her away.