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

‘About the next week or so.’ Jace brushed the flat of his hand over the curve of her bottom, struggling to focus his mind and sound nonchalant while his body was still humming. ‘What’s your answer?’

‘Hmm?’ Her soft breasts snuggled against his side as her nose pressed into his neck and her hand rested against his chest.

He hoped to hell she couldn’t feel the way his heart was battering his ribs.

‘I want to do more of this.’ He turned his head, placed a kiss on her forehead. ‘How about you?’ he finished, a little surprised he was having to press the point.

Why hadn’t she already leapt at the chance to have an affair with him?

Suggesting it had seemed like little more than a formality in the bath, given the way she’d responded to him so far. Damn it, she’d nearly passed out when he’d put his mouth on her—and watching her come apart like that had been exquisitely arousing. But instead of agreeing to the suggestion, she’d been instantly evasive, just like when he’d asked her about her past over dinner. And he’d had to face the unthinkable prospect that she might say no.

He wasn’t so arrogant as to believe every woman wanted to jump into bed with him, but the sexual chemistry between them was explosive. Any fool could see that. She wanted him all right. She wanted him a lot. So why had she refused to give him a straight answer? Was there some problem he wasn’t seeing? And why had the thought that there was a problem piqued his curiosity about her even more? Usually if a woman put up any resistance he backed off instantly. But with her he couldn’t seem to let it go.

It had been a long time since he’d been stupid enough to let his sex drive dictate his actions. But even knowing he should probably back off, he knew he wasn’t going to.

He had close to two weeks in London to meet a series of European buyers and deal with his ex-wife’s solicitors—so he could sell Artisan and finally shove the skeletons of his past back in the closet they had lurched out of and forget about them for good.

For a man who had spent the last fourteen years of his life working eighteen- to twenty-hour days—and playing pretty hard in the hours that were left—the next thirteen days spread out before him like a long, slow canter into extreme boredom. The fact that it was Christmas wasn’t a big help either.

He wasn’t a fan of the festive season. All that false bonhomie and conspicuous consumption got on his nerves—and having to endure it in the place he’d struggled so hard to get out of was going to add a nice thick layer of irritability to his aversion. Sure, the five-star luxury of The Chesterton was a far cry from the cramped council flat in Shepherd’s Bush where he’d grown up—which was the main reason he’d booked the best suite here, the difference proving to him just how far he’d come from that unhappy troublesome kid—but he’d left this city for a reason, and being forced back here by Helen and her recent interference in the company hadn’t improved his disposition one bit.

Until Cassie had leapt into his car with an indignant scowl on her cute face and those deliciously full breasts spilling out of her drenched coat.

He gripped her waist and jostled her slightly. ‘So, Cassidy, what’s it to be?’ he murmured into her hair, her enticing cinnamon scent made even more tempting mixed with the fresh scent of the hotel’s vanilla soap. He imagined all the fun they could have together as he waited for her to reply, ready to do some serious persuasion if she didn’t give him the answer he wanted.

The next two weeks would be the opposite of boring with Cassie in his bed. So he wasn’t about to let her give him some lame excuse. A grin split his features, and luckily she happened to be uniquely susceptible to his powers of persuasion.

Having taken a moment to mull that satisfying fact over in his head, he tilted his chin down to peer into her face. And the smug smile vanished.

Her eyelashes touched the flushed skin of her cheeks while the steady murmur of her breathing brushed against his collarbone.

He cursed under his breath. Unreal. She’d only gone and fallen fast asleep on him.

SEDUCTIVE, intensely erotic images swirled in Cassie’s head as she drifted out of a dream-filled sleep. Her eyelids fluttered open and the fierce tug of arousal pulsing in her sex intensified as she became aware of the muscular forearm banded under her breasts. Deep, even breathing brushed the top of her head and a warm body pressed against her back.

Jace.

She blinked at the thin winter sunlight gilding the opulent furnishings of his hotel suite and shifted slightly, the tenderness between her thighs so acute it was almost as if he were still lodged inside her. A hot flush swept through her as the erotic images from her dream recurred in vivid detail. And she realised they weren’t dreams at all, but memories.

She tensed as Jace’s sleep-roughened murmur made the hair on the back of her neck prickle. His arm tightened briefly under her breasts and then relaxed back into sleep.

Waiting a minute to make sure he was completely asleep, she took a moment to enjoy the feel of being wrapped so securely in his embrace.

A wistful smile curled her lips. So Jace Ryan was a snuggler? Who would have thought it?

Dispelling the thought and the tightening in her chest that accompanied it, she scooted over in incremental movements, then gingerly lifted his arm from around her waist and placed it behind her.

He grunted, and she sucked in a breath, praying he wouldn’t wake up.

Then he flopped over onto his back, taking the sheet with him, and she let out the breath she’d been holding. She twisted round, then hesitated, momentarily mesmerised by the handsome face thrown into sharp relief by the morning sunlight peeking through the room’s heavy velvet curtains. With his jaw shadowed by morning stubble, the thick locks of hair falling across his brow and that magnificent body bare right down to the springy curls of hair that peeked above the sheet draped low on his hips, it took Cassie a moment to catch her breath.

He had to be the most beautiful man she’d ever seen. And he’d been all hers for the wildest night of her life. She forced herself to look away and climb off the bed as carefully as possible so as not to wake him.

The night was over now and she needed to go home. He’d asked her about extending their fling, and as much as she yearned to wake him up and accept the offer she wasn’t going to. She couldn’t take the risk. While she might want to believe she could be smart and sensible about a brief fling with Jace and just concentrate on enjoying lots of really amazing sex for the next week or so, she didn’t entirely trust herself. Those silly clutches in her heartbeat, last night and this morning, were proof that her delusional tendencies hadn’t quite died the death she’d hoped in the last nine months … And she wasn’t ready yet to tempt fate with someone as devastating as Jace Ryan.

It was cowardly and fairly pathetic, but she could live with that. What she couldn’t live with was the thought of making a fool of herself all over again with yet another man who had nothing to offer her. Her brow creased as the pulse of awareness rippled across her nerve endings.

Well, apart from lots of really amazing sex, that is.

She gathered up her tunic and underwear from the other side of the room, determined not to give in to the tempting thought. But she couldn’t quite resist returning to the bedside to study him while he slept as she slipped on her clothing.

As she sat in the chair by the bed, and rolled on the luxury silk tights he’d bought her, it occurred to her that, unlike the other men she’d known, Jace didn’t look any more vulnerable in sleep than he did when he was awake.