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After the Christmas Party...
After the Christmas Party...
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After the Christmas Party...

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He was flirting.

With her.

Eyes narrowing suspiciously, brain reeling, she peeled her dry tongue free of the roof of her mouth. “Then perhaps you should aim elsewhere.”

Because, really, what would be the point of encouraging him? She wasn’t interested in a relationship, or anything else.

Rather than take the hint and move on, his devilish grin widened, digging dimples into his cheeks. “You don’t like to be pleased?”

Darn it. He was quick tongued and she’d set herself up for that one. No matter how she answered, he’d twist her words. The mischievous gleam in his eyes assured that.

She shoved her empty cup toward him. “Punch.”

Fantastic. She sounded as if she had a mouthful of peanut butter and the IQ of a rock, but at least letting him get her punch would give her a reprieve.

Taking her cup, he laughed. “Then punch it is, but don’t think I’m letting you off the hook. We’ll discuss what gives you pleasure when I get back.” His eyes sparkled. “I could make a few suggestions even.”

Heat washed over her body, melting her from the inside out at the thought of just what those suggestions might be.

Not that it mattered. She so wasn’t having that conversation with him.

“I wouldn’t hold my breath if I were you,” she mumbled.

She didn’t meet his gaze and earn another laugh from him and an “Is she crazy?” from one of their billing-department eavesdroppers.

They probably thought she was, but the reality was that she didn’t want to attract a man like him. Chase had been as high octane as she went and look where that had gotten her. Burnt. Burnt. Burnt.

“Who needs to hold their breath when you’ve already stolen mine?” he quipped with another flash of his perfectly straight pearly whites, sending her up in a puff of smoke. Then, in a decent imitation of a famous movie line, he added, “I’ll be back.”

The women sighed then giggled as if he’d said something super-romantic then brilliantly funny. Trinity just stared. Her gaze zeroed in on his retreating figure.

“You go, girl,” the heavy-chested woman told her, stepping closer and giving a thumbs up. “I’m pea green with envy. You’re tonight’s lucky girl.”

She winced that the women had obviously overheard his pleasure comment. Great. She didn’t want gossip. Lord knew, she’d dealt with enough of that during her lifetime already. Especially at work. And, seriously, although he was the hottest man she’d ever set eyes on, she didn’t want a man in her life. Not ever again. Maybe she should leave before he returned. If her director got upset that she’d left too early, she could always claim she hadn’t felt well. With her nervous stomach, she’d be telling the truth.

Glancing around, she easily spotted him in line to refill her punch and chatting with a few people whose faces she recognized but didn’t recall which hospital department they hailed from.

Who was he and why had he sought her out?

What did it matter?

She was not getting involved. Especially not with someone who worked at the hospital or had anything to do with the hospital. Been there, done that, had the gaping hole in her chest to prove it.

A sick feeling took hold in her stomach, like she might really lose its contents. Time to go. Fast.

Eyes locked on the exit, she made a beeline for the ballroom door, intent on making her escape. Just after She stepped into the long hallway that would lead her to the hotel’s over-decorated foyer, a hand grabbed her elbow. She jumped.

“You okay?”

Him. Great. No doubt there would be scorch marks where his fingers burned into her skin. She grimaced and started to say she was heading to the ladies’ room, but why lie?

She turned, faced him, felt her breath hitch again at just how lickable he really was, then inhaled deeply because she was strong. “Look, I appreciate the offer of more punch and boring conversation, but I’ve had enough and I’m headed home.”

His forehead creased. “You’re leaving? Because of me?”

“No.” Heat infused her face. Hadn’t she just asked herself why she should lie? “Look, I’m not a party girl. You should go talk to someone else.”

Understatement of the year.

“I don’t want to talk to someone else. I want to talk with you. Besides, you’re problem is that you’ve been partying with all the wrong people.” His wink told her exactly who she should be partying with.

Determined not to be swayed by his outrageous charm and the way him saying he wanted to talk to her warmed her insides, she arched a brow. “I suppose you’re my right person?”

A full-blown smile slashed across his handsome face. “I’ve been called a lot of things in my life, but I’m not sure Mr. Right is one of them.”

She started to correct him, to let him know that she hadn’t been implying that he was calling himself Mr. Right, but before she could, he reached out and ran a tingle-inducing fingertip across her cheek. Hello, lightning bolt!

“There’s always a first so, sure, I am the right person for you to be partying with tonight. I’m Riley, by the way.” His smile cut dimples into his cheeks again and he stared straight into her eyes. “I don’t want you to go.”

Not offering him her name, she closed her eyes. It was all she could do not to lean towards him, be seduced by the appeal in his voice. Was he like the Pied Piper of women or what, because she just wanted to follow him wherever he led.

“Stay. Dance with me,” he whispered near her ear in an enchanting tone that made her want to dance to his tune in more ways than one.

Mesmerized, she stepped towards him, her body almost pressing to his.

He inhaled. “You smell amazing. Good enough to eat.”

Um, no. She was not going to let her mind go where his words threatened to take her. Not going to happen. Only her mind went exactly where it wasn’t supposed to go. Bad mind.

Keeping her eyes squeezed shut, she parted her lips to say no, that she was leaving and couldn’t be tempted by visions of sugar plums and whatever else he dangled in front of her. Apparently, he took her movement and open mouth as an invitation. Without hesitation his lips covered hers.

Shocked at the unexpected kiss, Trinity’s eyelids flew apart, startled to find his intent blue eyes open, watching her, as his lips gently brushed over her mouth. Tasting. Tempting. Teasing. Rocking her world to the very core. Wow.

Shockwaves rippled to the tips of her toes and she questioned if time was standing still because the hotel seemed to fade away to just the two of them, just his eyes searching hers, his lips branding hers.

When he pulled away, reality immediately sank in. Hospital Christmas party. Surrounded by new coworkers. The most gorgeous man ever had just kissed her. Hello, had she lost her mind?

“Why did you do that?” She took a step back, wiping her lips as if trying to clear away his kiss. Sandpaper couldn’t have erased his kiss. Riley. Riley’s kiss. He’d permanently branded her lips, her entire body. The man started fires.

He pointed up to the doorway she’d stepped beneath.

“Had to.” He shrugged nonchalantly, as if the kiss had been no big deal. To him it probably hadn’t been. His knees weren’t the ones shaking. “Tradition.”

She glanced up, eyed the large clump of mistletoe tied with a red ribbon that hung over the doorway. Her gaze dropped back to him suspiciously. “You’re a traditional kind of guy and just couldn’t resist?”

“Absolutely, just ask my mom. She’ll tell you I’m the apple of her eye.” He grinned. “Now that we know I’m a traditional kind of guy, that you smell and taste like the sweetest candy, and the pressure of our first kiss is out of the way, let’s go party. I guarantee a good time. Plus, you can tell me all about you while I hold you in my arms on the dance floor, Trinity.” His eyes sparkled with devilment.

Feeling oddly out of sorts that he knew her name despite the fact she’d purposely not told him, that he was piling on the charm, she felt what little resistance she had to him ebbing away. “Do you always get what you want?”

One side of his mouth curved upward. “Not always, but it is Christmastime and I’ve been a very good boy.”

She doubted that. Besides which there was nothing boyish about his broad shoulders and testosterone-laden aura.

“I’m hopeful there will be something sweet under my Christmas tree this year. An angel.” He raised his brows. “You have plans? We could start a new holiday tradition.”

She should go. She knew that. Her tattered heart was no match for this man’s charisma. But the thought of going back to her lonely apartment just didn’t appeal. Not even with Casper there, waiting for her. Her cat might love her but, whether Trinity wanted to admit it or not, she craved the temptation Riley waved in front of her.

An escape, albeit temporary, from the deeply embedded loneliness that had taken hold of her soul from the moment Chase Langworthy had dumped her publicly at their hospital Christmas party two years ago and plunged her into depression and Scrooge-dom.

Darn him for doing that. Darn her for letting him.

She took the punch glass Riley still held and downed half the contents as if she were chugging a shot of whiskey. Ha, she never drank alcohol, but she needed something to give her the push to do what she suddenly wanted to. She’d pretend the punch was liquid courage. She’d pretend that she was the kind of girl used to men like him flirting and wanting to dance with her. She’d pretend she was the life of the party.

“Okay, Riley…” She drawled his name out. She would do this, would have fun. “I’ll dance with you, but I should warn you that I dance much better than I kiss so you might struggle to keep up.”

She had no clue how she managed the confident words, the brilliant smile, or where they had even come from. The only time she ever danced confidently was around her living room with only Casper around to yawn at her antics. Still, head high, she headed back into the ballroom.

Riley’s pleased laughter behind her warmed parts of her insides that hadn’t felt sunshine in a long, long time.

CHAPTER TWO (#ue97869bb-4d66-5bd2-a969-80f452a013cd)

WHAT A PLEASANT enigma, Riley thought of the woman he held loosely in his arms. She really did dance like an angel. But she was crazy if she thought she danced better than she kissed.

No one danced better than this woman’s lips had felt against his. A meeting of their lips that hadn’t been an angelic kiss but one that lit hot fires all along his nerve endings. He still burned. of course, that might be because her curvy little body swayed next to his and every cell in him had an apparent surge of testosterone.

What other excuse could there be for that brief brushing of his mouth against hers to have set him on fire the way it had?

If he didn’t quit thinking about how much he’d wanted to deepen that kiss, about how he wanted to take her somewhere private and kiss her again and again and on places other than her juicy mouth, she was going to know exactly what he was thinking. He was intuitive enough to recognize she wasn’t the kind of girl who went for one-night stands.

And he wasn’t the kind of man who sweet-talked a woman into doing something she’d regret.

Exactly what he did want wasn’t entirely clear, but he sure wanted something.

Her.

He brushed his cheek across the top of her head, the light touch sending shockwaves of awareness through him. Yes, he wanted to know her in every sense. He’d always been the kind of person who’d known what he wanted and had gone after whatever that might be. He wanted Trinity with an intensity that made his head spin.

“How long have you been a nurse?”

Tilting her head back, she blinked her big brown eyes at him. Most of the women he knew would have had make-up accenting their large almond shape, would have made the most of the naturally thick lashes rimming her lids to lure some unsuspecting man into her snare. Not Trinity. As best he could tell, Trinity had nothing on Her face except the light sprinkling of freckles across her nose and a little mascara coating those already long lashes. Her hair was clipped back with loose springs, framing her heart-shaped face. She looked as if she could be sweet sixteen.

“Trinity?”

Her beautiful face had become pinched, as if she were troubled by his question. “Long enough that I know about men like you.”

Her instant defensiveness confused him. “Men like me?”

“You shouldn’t get ideas about me.” Her face flushed a pretty shade of pink, but she held his gaze. “I’m just here to dance, nothing more.”

Riley liked the spunk shining on her upward-tilted face and had to fight the urge to kiss her mouth again. “You shouldn’t get ideas about me,” he warned. “I’m simply making conversation with the beautiful woman I’m dancing with. Nothing more.”

Her gaze narrowed. He grinned. After a moment she sighed in resignation. “Fine. You win.” A sly smile slid onto her mouth. “This round.”

He looked forward to future rounds. “And?”

“I’ve been a nurse for four years,” she admitted, as if giving away some top secret. That would likely make her around twenty-six.

“Where did you nurse prior to coming to work for Pensacola?”

She tensed in his arms and stopped moving. “You don’t have to play Twenty Questions or even make conversation at all. For the record, I’m a girl who appreciates silence in a man.”

Riley chuckled. Oh, yeah, he liked this woman. “Shut up and dance, eh?”

She nodded.

“Problem is, I want to know more about you.” Lots more. “Where did you nurse prior to coming to Pensacola?”

She sighed. “How about I save us a lot of time and send you a copy of my résumé?”

He stared at her stubborn expression.

“Oh, all right,” she relented, and pushed his chest, motioning for him to start dancing again. “I went to school at University of Tennessee in Memphis and went straight to work at one of the hospitals there. I worked in the cardiac unit until I took the job here in Pensacola.”

“Now, was that really so painful?”

“Excruciating.” But a smile played on her lips. He really liked her smile. And the sparkle of gold in her brown eyes.

“Now, be quiet and dance.”

He laughed at her order. Talking with her was like a breath of fresh air. Stimulating. Fun.

“I have a friend who went to medical school in Memphis. He says it’s a great place. What brought you to Pensacola? Family?”

With a look of what he hoped was feigned annoyance that he hadn’t taken her order of silence seriously, she shook her head.

“Friends?” he persisted, despite her glare.

“Nope,” she answered after a moment’s hesitation.

The music picked up tempo. When she went to pull back he tightened his hold. “Boyfriend?”

“Ha. Exact opposite.”

No hesitation there. He frowned. “You have someone in Memphis?”

“Not any more.”

There was enough sadness—or was it regret?—in her voice that he felt a little guilty at just how much relief flowed through him at her denial.