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

Was that part of his allure? she wondered. Was that the quality that had made him so irresistible last night but made her so wary of him in the cold light of morning? That, unlike her, he seemed so sure of himself? So controlled? Even in the throes of lovemaking, at the height of passion, he hadn’t lost the commanding, almost ruthless self-confidence of someone who knew exactly what he wanted out of life. And was more than prepared to do whatever he had to do to get it.

Standing up, she smoothed damp palms down the beaded tunic, then leant over the bed and pressed the lightest of kisses to the rough stubble on his cheek. The tantalising musk of vanilla soap and man filled her senses.

‘Goodbye, Jace,’ she whispered.

Then she turned and hurried from the room, trying exceptionally hard not to think about missing out on the sexiest, most exhilarating Christmas of her entire life. Or the painful ache under her breastbone that she refused to interpret.

She’d done the smart, sensible thing. She was now officially a grown-up.

Cassie’s ink pen jolted as the doorbell buzzed, sending a thick black line slashing through the Sugar Plum Fairy’s nose and ruining two hours’ work.

She cursed and dropped the pen into the cup she kept at the side of her drawing easel. It was her own stupid fault. She shouldn’t have attempted to design her Christmas cards today. She’d been jumpy ever since she’d got back from the West End, her hormones refusing to settle down despite all her best efforts.

The doorbell buzzed again. Wiping her hands with a washcloth, she got up and walked from her bedroom, through the tiny living room to the front door, ruthlessly quashing the hope that it might be Jace. He didn’t even know where she lived. And anyway, she didn’t want to see him; the endorphin withdrawal he’d caused was quite hard enough to deal with without the added stimulation of seeing him again.

Unlocking the deadbolt, she pulled the door open.

‘Hey there, what’s up?’ Nessa grinned, holding up a grease-spotted bag from the bakery downstairs. ‘I brought apple Danish to bribe you into talking about your new man over morning coffee.’ She breezed past Cassie into the flat, her extensions arranged in corkscrew curls that bobbed around her shoulders as she waltzed into the kitchen.

Cassie stifled a groan. She loved Nessa like a sister. But the last thing she needed right now was to have to relive her wild night with Jace.

‘He’s not my new man,’ she grumbled. Or not any more. She followed Nessa into the snug galley kitchen. ‘And anyway it’s nearly lunchtime,’ she moaned, attempting to redirect the conversation. ‘Pastries will spoil our appetite.’ Not to mention apply several extra pounds to her hips, which she probably didn’t need. A vision of Jace’s ex-wife with her skeletal supermodel figure popped into Cassie’s head.

Correction, which she definitely didn’t need.

Bending to grab Cassie’s coffee jar out of the fridge, Nessa gave a rich chuckle. ‘You’re very grumpy this morning.’ She straightened, shooting Cassie a knowing smile and not looking redirected in the least. ‘Couldn’t be because you didn’t get enough sleep last night?’ She wiggled her eyebrows before ladling coffee into the cafetière. ‘Now could it?’

Cassie sighed and gave up. She knew Nessa. They’d been best friends since their first day at Hillsdown Road when Nessa had got a detention for talking back to the teacher, and Cassie had got one too for giggling at Nessa’s antics.

Nessa loved to share and discuss. She adored girl talk. And she was like a Rottweiler with a T-bone when it came to talking about sex. No way would she let the subject of Cassie’s wild night drop until she’d got all the juicy details.

‘Fine, all right.’ Cassie grabbed the kettle, held it over the sink and wrenched on the tap. ‘You got me. I did the wild thing with Jace Ryan last night.’

Nessa gave a deep chortle. ‘I knew it.’

‘How?’ Cassie asked as she plonked the kettle onto its stand and flicked the switch on. Surely it couldn’t be that obvious?

‘Well, now, let me see,’ Nessa said as her gaze roamed over Cassie’s rapidly flushing face. ‘Apart from that patch of whisker burn on your chin. There’s that dazed look in your eyes that says your girly bits definitely got one heck of a wake-up call last night.’

‘I see,’ Cassie muttered, not too pleased with the reminder.

Her girly bits weren’t doing denial nearly as well as she’d hoped when she’d walked out on Jace that morning. And Nessa’s observation was not helping them get with the programme.

‘So tell me,’ Nessa said, pouring boiling water onto the grounds and infusing the small room with the tempting aroma of fresh coffee. ‘Is that boy as mad, bad and dangerous to know as I remember him?’

Cassie lifted the pint bottle out of the fridge, added a splash of milk to the two Drama Queen mugs Nessa had placed on the counter top, and tried not to remember exactly how mad and bad Jace Ryan was in bed. ‘He’s certainly not a boy any more,’ she murmured.

Nessa gave a joyous whoop, arranging the two apple pastries onto a plate. ‘Hallelujah and amen to that!’ She lifted her coffee, toasted Cassie with the china mug. ‘It’s about time you got yourself a man who knows what he’s doing.’ Picking up the plate, she led Cassie into the living room. They settled in their usual seats on the vintage fifties couch. ‘So your Christmas is looking up, right? No more worries about missing he who shall not be named,’ she hissed in a deliberately theatrical voice, using the nickname she’d coined for Lance, the morning Cassie had run round to her best friend to tell her the sordid details of what she’d discovered Lance and Tracy doing on her vintage couch. ‘You got yourself a real man to snuggle up with on Christmas morning now.’

Cassie took a careful sip of her scalding coffee, and glanced over the rim of her mug at Nessa. ‘Not exactly,’ she said, and braced herself for the inevitable.

Nessa’s perfectly plucked brows drew down in a sharp frown and she placed her mug on the coffee table. ‘Why not exactly?’

‘It was strictly a one-night deal.’

‘You mean he doesn’t want a repeat performance? Why not? Is there something wrong with him?’ Nessa’s voice was so full of indignation on Cassie’s behalf she almost didn’t want to admit the truth. Why not let Jace take the heat instead of her?

Unfortunately, the guilty flush burned in her cheeks before she could even open her mouth. Nessa’s brows arrowed down further as suspicion flickered into her eyes.

Why couldn’t she even tell a decent white lie? It was pathetic.

‘Wait a minute, it’s not him.’ Nessa pointed an accusatory finger at her. ‘It’s you, isn’t it? Please tell me you’re not still holding a candle to that tool Lance?’

‘No, it’s nothing like that. It’s just …’ Cassie hesitated. How did she explain her cowardice to Nessa, who was bolder than anyone she knew? ‘Jace suggested continuing our fling, until he leaves on New Year’s Day. But I don’t want to do that.’

Nessa held up her hand, her eyes narrowing. ‘Let me get this straight. The man offered you—’ she did a quick calculation on her fingers ‘—twelve whole days of really amazing fornication. That’ll see you right through your Christmas funk. And you turned him down ?’

Cassie shifted in her seat. She hadn’t exactly turned him down. She hadn’t even been brave enough to do that. But there was absolutely no need to admit that to Nessa.

‘Ness, I’m not ready for something like this.’

‘But it’s been nine months since you kicked out that no-good, lying—’

‘I’ve slept with exactly two men in my life,’ she interrupted, not wanting to hear another of Nessa’s tirades against Lance. ‘Well, three now,’ she revised. ‘And I’m not sure I …’