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Misbehaving Under the Mistletoe: On the First Night of Christmas... / Secrets of the Rich & Famous / Truth-Or-Date.com
Misbehaving Under the Mistletoe: On the First Night of Christmas... / Secrets of the Rich & Famous / Truth-Or-Date.com
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Misbehaving Under the Mistletoe: On the First Night of Christmas... / Secrets of the Rich & Famous / Truth-Or-Date.com

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And a kiss that had nearly blown the top of her head off, Cassie added silently as he took one hand out of his pocket and touched her cheek.

She shivered, the contact as electric as it had been a moment ago, even though he was barely touching her.

He stroked his thumb across her lips. ‘How do you feel about hanging out with me, till I go back to New York on New Year’s Day?’

‘You live in New York?’ she said a bit inanely.

‘Haven’t I mentioned that already?’

She shook her head.

He smiled. ‘Seems like we’ve got some catching up to do. We’ve kind of done this thing backwards, haven’t we?’

What thing? They didn’t have a thing, she thought, her panic button tripping again.

‘So do I get an answer this time?’ he prompted.

But he didn’t sound nearly as sure of himself as he had yesterday. The thought made her feel a little less wary of him. That cast-iron control had slipped when he’d kissed her. If only for a moment. And it made him seem a tiny bit less overpowering.

She took a steady breath and opted to tell him the truth. ‘My answer is, I’m not sure.’

He tilted his head to one side, rubbed one of her curls between his thumb and forefinger. ‘What’s not to be sure about?’ he asked.

‘I don’t know you.’

‘We’ll get to know each other.’ His lips curved into a rueful smile. ‘As much as I’d like to spend the next ten days making nonstop love to you, even I have my limits. And we’ll probably have to eat occasionally. Which means we’ll no doubt have to talk to each other.’

She stepped back, tucked her hands into the back pockets of her jeans, impossibly tempted by the chance to get to know him better. But she would have to tell him the rest first.

She met his eyes. ‘I got hurt. Nine months ago. When my last relationship ended. And I don’t want to get involved with anyone right now.’

‘Involved?’ His eyebrows shot up. ‘How does ten days of small talk and great sex equal involved?’

‘It doesn’t,’ she corrected quickly. She didn’t want him thinking she was a romantic fool. Because she wasn’t. Not any more. ‘I know it doesn’t. Which is a good thing. Because that’s definitely not what I want.’

He slipped his hand round her waist, hauled her against him. ‘Then there isn’t a problem.’ He kissed her, lingering on her lips this time, making her sex ache and her breasts swell and tighten. ‘Is there?’

Could it really be that simple?

The crooked smile became even more charming. ‘You know, Cassidy, you’re being a bit of a girl about this.’

‘That’s possibly because I am a girl,’ she pointed out, not sure whether to laugh at the statement or be affronted.

‘I know.’ He kissed her again. ‘And that’s a very good point. But why don’t I give you a guy’s perspective?’ he said, as if he were humouring her. ‘To help clarify things.’

‘Okay,’ she said, intrigued to see where this was going.

‘The truth is,’ he began, ‘I’m not the sort of guy anyone gets involved with. And for a very good reason. I’m not remotely reliable,’ he said, not sounding in the least bit ashamed of his lack of constancy.

‘You got involved with your wife, didn’t you?’ she countered.

He cleared his throat. ‘She’s my ex-wife. Which sort of proves my point.’

‘Fair enough.’

‘So as I was saying, before I was so rudely interrupted,’ he admonished, his eyes twinkling. ‘You don’t need to worry about me expecting more from this relationship than you want to give me. Because I can guarantee you. I won’t want more than I’ve asked for, which is—’

‘Great sex and small talk,’ she finished for him.

‘Exactly!’ he said as if she were a brilliant student and he the teacher. ‘You see, guys are very straightforward. We want what we say on the tin. There is hardly ever a hidden subtext. And there certainly isn’t one here.’

‘And what does your tin say?’ she asked, unable to stifle a grin.

The man was a complete rogue where women were concerned. And while she probably shouldn’t find his lack of scruples refreshing, somehow she did. David and Lance had both pretended to be something they weren’t. Namely dependable and reliable and in the market for a real relationship when they never had been. While Jace, for all his wicked ways, had been honest about what he wanted. And what he didn’t.

Nessa had told her he wasn’t a cheater. And she’d been spot on.

He smiled as the desire in his eyes intensified. He pressed against her, the rigid arousal making her hormones do a very happy dance indeed. ‘My tin says that I don’t get involved.’ He sank his fingers into her hair, framing her face. ‘But I do have some other fine qualities that we can explore at our leisure for eleven whole days.’

He lowered his head, until his lips hovered over hers. ‘What do you say, Cassidy? Are you gonna go for it or not? Ladies’ choice.’

As arousal sprinted through her system and her body swayed instinctively into his, Cassie knew she was lost, the promise of pleasure in his eyes, and the feel of the thick ridge outlined against her abdomen, too tempting to resist a second time.

Circling his waist and lifting on tiptoe, she closed the distance and settled her lips on his. The kiss was slow and easy this time, but a smouldering heat built in her belly that quickly threatened to rage out of control.

He pulled back, his ragged breathing matching hers. ‘I’ll take that as a yes, then?’

She nodded, her tongue too numb to speak—and her mind too dazed with passion to consider refusing. Optimism flooded through her as he bent to devour the pulse point in her neck, then grasped her thigh to hook her leg over his hip. He pushed her back against the wall, ground the heavy weight of his sex into the juncture of her thighs, making moisture release in a rush through the denim of her jeans.

She arched against him, pushing herself into the hardness, desperate to feel it inside her again.

But when the heart bump came this time, the panic didn’t follow.

This was about sex. Really amazing sex. And nothing more. She’d examined the pitfalls and knew what they were, so she could guard against them. But she wouldn’t even have to.

She’d tried to complicate something that was remarkably simple.

Those telltale bumps in her heartbeat had been caused by the intensity of her arousal, that was all. And she’d panicked. But there was nothing to panic about. And there never had been.

She could have her candy … and eat it too. Because candy was all it was ever meant to be. And she knew that now.

Clasping her hips in his hands, he lifted her. ‘Wrap your legs round my waist.’

She did as he demanded, delirious with the sharp, insistent need she no longer had to deny.

He carried into her bedroom, dumped her on the bed, then got to work on the buttons of her jeans.

‘At last.’ He let out a satisfied sigh as he eased his hands under the waistband, pushed the denims over her hips. ‘Let’s get this party started.’ And he did.

‘Is that the right time?’ Jace squinted at the clock on the wall above Cassie’s desk. Easing his arm from around her shoulders, he sat upright in her small double bed. ‘It can’t be two o’clock already.’ When he’d come charging out of the hotel an hour ago, determined to give Cassie a roasting for running out on him, he hadn’t checked the time. Why hadn’t he checked?

‘Yes, it is,’ Cassie murmured, sitting up beside him, her voice husky as she clutched the duvet to her breasts. ‘What’s wrong?’

He ruthlessly controlled the surge of heat at the sight of the soft flesh. He knew why he hadn’t stopped to check the time. Because he hadn’t been able to see past his lust, and the spike of temper that had gripped him when he’d woken up to find Cassie gone.

Damn it all to hell, he needed to focus now. Getting out of the bed, he grabbed his boxers off the floor, tugged them on. ‘I have a meeting I was supposed to be at an hour ago.’

‘Can you ring them?’ she said, sounding concerned. ‘Will it be a problem for you?’

He grabbed his trousers, shoved his legs into them, then whipped his sweater off the floor and pulled it over his head. ‘I don’t have to call. It’s not a problem,’ he said, knowing it wasn’t. Not in a business sense. The buyers would be happy to wait a week to see him, let alone an hour. But that didn’t stem his irritation with himself.

When was the last time a woman had distracted him from his business? Even for an hour. Never. Not even during his marriage. It was the thing that had always upset Helen the most. That he insisted on putting the business first.

But he hadn’t given a thought to his business commitments today when he’d been showering and then getting The Chesterton’s concierge to find out where the cab Cassie had booked at the front desk had taken her.

And while he’d got what he’d wanted—namely Cassie agreeing to be his playmate for the next week or so—he didn’t much like the ridiculous way he’d behaved when he got to her flat either. The minute he’d seen her again, the combination of lust and longing and anger had got all tangled up inside him—and he hadn’t been able to distinguish them. He’d discovered at an early age the value of keeping your emotions under wraps. And as a teenager, the even greater value of being able to deflect and deny the more destructive ones. Anger was definitely one of those emotions that was better controlled.

But for some damn reason, he hadn’t been able to control it today. He needed to get out of Cassie’s apartment and get to the meeting. Indulging himself with her was going to be fun over the next week or so. But he needed a little distance now to get this fling in perspective. He’d got what he wanted. And he wasn’t going to worry too much about why he’d wanted it so much.

The sound of her sobbing out her release as her sex tightened around him ten minutes ago was all the explanation he needed for that.

‘I’ll have to dash,’ he said, sitting on the edge of the bed to pull on his socks and boots. Having a little time out would be good for both of them. His smile edged up as his heartbeat calmed. Especially as they had well over a week of really amazing sex ahead of them.

He twisted round, laid his hand on her knee. ‘Why don’t you pack a bag? I’ll send a car over and see you at the hotel for dinner.’

‘Pack a bag?’ Her brows lowered in a puzzled frown. ‘Why do I need to pack a bag?’

He sent her a level look, tried not to overreact to the genuine look of confusion. ‘Because you’re moving in till New Year’s Day, remember?’

Her teeth tugged on her bottom lip. ‘But I—’

He silenced her by pressing a finger to her lips. ‘Cassie, it’s easier this way.’ He made an effort to lighten his voice, add a little of the charm that he was so famous for. The charm that had pretty much deserted him once already today. ‘They have room service. And a much bigger bed.’

Her cheeks pinkened prettily. ‘I suppose you’re right,’ she said, still sounding unsure.

‘I know I’m right.’ Then he pushed his advantage. ‘Just out of interest, how many flings like this have you had?’ he asked.

She looked down, the pink in her cheeks turning to a vivid red. ‘None,’ she said.

He quashed the odd tightening in his chest, which made no sense at all. Why should he care if she’d done this before or not? He’d had plenty of flings; in fact, that was pretty much all he’d ever had. Even during his marriage, he’d never cared about Helen’s past sex life. So he didn’t get to care whether Cassie had done this before or not. But still her inexperience, and the comment she’d made about the end of her previous relationship, bothered him in a way he couldn’t quite figure out.

He lifted her chin with his finger. ‘Then you’ll have to take it from me that I know how these things work. And really amazing sex is a lot easier with room service.’ And in an anonymous location, where no one’s personal space was involved, he thought silently.

‘Okay, I’ll pack a bag,’ she said.

He ignored the rush of relief.

It was only because she’d been a harder sell than he would have expected. But he’d got what he wanted now. All he had to do was enjoy it.

‘But I have plans for Christmas Day,’ she added. ‘And shopping and stuff to do before then.’

‘Not a problem,’ he said, curving his hand round her neck and pulling her to him for a long, languid kiss that would have to last him till dinnertime. ‘I’ve got business commitments myself.’ When he lifted his lips, the blush of embarrassment had turned to the flush of arousal. Just the way he liked it. ‘I won’t hold you prisoner at The Chesterton.’

She gave a quick, artlessly sexy smile. ‘Promise?’

He chuckled. ‘See you in a couple of hours.’

But as he strode through the living room, grabbed his jacket off the sofa and then let himself out of the tiny flat he knew it wasn’t a promise he was likely to keep. He wasn’t going to be letting her out of his sight for the next few days; whatever plans she might have, he’d just have to persuade her to adjust them. He’d speak to his PA after this afternoon’s meeting and get her to reschedule the rest of his own commitments until after Christmas.

He’d been denying his libido too long; the way he’d overreacted this morning was proof of that. His sudden inability to control his emotions had all been tied in with his lust. The next few days would be about working that need out of his system. And showing Cassie what he suspected she might have been missing in her sex life too. Once they’d both got what they wanted out of their affair, Cassie wouldn’t have any more of an effect on him than all his other flings.

Cassie climbed out of bed as she heard the front door slam behind Jace. And pushed aside the spurt of hurt and disappointment that he’d rushed off so quickly.

What was she upset about? She’d agreed that their liaison was about great sex. He wasn’t making a commitment for anything more than that and neither was she.

And while his suggestion that she come and stay at the hotel—correction, his insistence that she come and stay at the hotel—had made her panic button pop again, she could see now it was the practical solution.

Grabbing her clothes up off the floor, she dropped the duvet and began to get dressed. Not only that, but the hotel suite was beautiful. And it would be much easier to remember this whole thing as some glorious sexual fantasy afterwards if they didn’t spend too much time in her flat. Not that it would be a problem. But she didn’t want to store up memories of him here. It would seem too much like a proper relationship when it wasn’t.

And she’d be free to come and go at her leisure. Which she would definitely have to do. Because while she’d done her usual copious research for all the Christmas presents she had to buy, she hadn’t actually got round to buying any yet.

Sitting back at her easel, she lifted up the Sugar Plum Fairy design and scrunched up the card. Then drew out a new card and started drawing. She’d finish her Christmas card design, get Manny at the printing shop round the corner to do a rush job, then post them before she packed up some stuff and went round to The Chesterton later.

There was no big rush, especially as Jace wouldn’t even be there.

This was a casual affair. That was how he was treating it, and how she would treat it too. No blowing it out of proportion in any way. And no getting upset about him having to rush off to a business meeting, especially as she had lots of things to rush off and do in the next few days too.

CHAPTER ELEVEN (#ulink_3f843a01-1606-5ed5-9b36-3ced7fca2688)

‘IT’S Sunday!’ Cassie stared at the Sunday papers she’d just noticed folded on the coffee table, the spoon of muesli poised in mid-air. ‘It can’t be.’

Jace glanced up from the plate of Cumberland sausage and eggs he’d been tucking into. ‘That’s correct. Sunday usually comes right after Saturday.’

Cassie plopped the spoon back into her bowl. ‘But Sunday is Christmas Eve.’

‘Is it?’ Jace said, apparently unconcerned as he sliced into his sausage.

Cassie blinked. Watching him as he chewed the meat, then swallowed, her mind having gone completely blank. How could this have happened? She’d arrived at his hotel suite on the night of the twentieth of December. And now it was the morning of the twenty-fourth!

Which meant, even with her atrocious maths skills, that they’d spent three whole days cocooned in his hotel suite. Ordering in room service and indulging in an orgy of sexual pleasures, fulfilling every prurient fantasy she’d ever had, not to mention a great deal more that she’d never even dreamed of.

‘I can’t believe it’s nearly Christmas Day already,’ she murmured, feeling disorientated.

Three whole days. It didn’t seem possible she could have spent all that time doing nothing but making mad, passionate love to Jace Ryan.

The small talk he’d promised hadn’t really materialised. Not in the way she would have hoped. He’d asked her a lot of questions about her work as an illustrator and she’d learned a little about his web design business, which was clearly very successful. But the few times she’d strayed into more personal territory, he’d clammed up and then distracted her. Mostly with sex. And she had forced herself not to take it personally. And not to push. Revelling instead in the passion he stirred so easily.

He shrugged, sent her a suggestive smile that had the heat pooling low in her abdomen. ‘We’ve been busy.’