Cathy Yardley - Baby, It's Cold Outside

Technically he really is an out-of-towner, her subconscious suggested conspiratorially.

So where did that leave her?

“Merry Christmas, everybody!” Tim called out, raising his glass.

“Merry Christmas,” she echoed. If she married Tim, this would be her future—formal dinners, companionable friendship, a partnership made with the town in mind. Comfortable, idyllic, picture-perfect. It wouldn’t be all that bad, considering.

If you slept with Colin, even if you never felt passion again, at least you’d have an incredible memory to live with.

Emily blinked. Sleep with Colin? Ava Reese’s son? The guy Tall Pines loved to gossip about?

Who would ever know besides the two of you?

The thought caused a wave of heat to curl through her. He wasn’t even going to see his family afterward if they did spend the night together. He’d just go straight to the airport and that’d be the end of it.

No one would find out.

“There. Now you look happy,” Tim said.

She nodded. She was happy.

Or at least she would be happy…as soon as she got home.

IT WAS AROUND ten o’clock when Colin got back to Emily’s place. He entered quietly, wondering if maybe she was asleep. He wished he were. He was exhausted. He loved visiting with his family, but still, he’d be glad when his cab came and took him to the airport in the morning.

All he needed to do was avoid any contact with Emily, leave her a nice thank-you note and he’d be home free.

The fire was lit, he noticed, and there was a bottle of champagne in an ice bucket. His scented candles were lit, as well, making the room smell like autumn, with subtle hints of pine, nutmeg and cloves.

He glanced around, puzzled. “Emily?”

She stepped out of the bedroom wearing the robe he’d seen her in his first night at her apartment. Her feet were bare, her hair was loose and tumbled wildly around her shoulders. She smiled. “Colin,” she said, and her violet-blue eyes were dark with promise. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas.” She looked like a present—waiting to be unwrapped.

“I thought since you’d be missing New Year’s, maybe you’d like some champagne.” She nodded to the bottle. “If you’d do the honors?”

His gaze went from the champagne to her loosely belted robe, then back to the champagne. Then, furtively, back to her robe, which opened up into a tantalizing V of creamy, exposed skin.

Things were not going to plan.

In fact, things were going to hell in a hurry, and he’d be in too deep in a matter of moments if he didn’t take action.

Ah, but what a way to go.

He shook his head, trying to clear it of his prurient thoughts. “Um, Emily…this may not be all that swift a decision.”

“What do you mean?” She sat down on the couch, and the hem of her robe shifted to reveal a very shapely leg. Her feet were small with high arches, and her toenails were painted crimson, like ripe cherries.

It took him a second to remember her question. “We’ve been through this once already, remember?” he said, referencing his very spontaneous—and very rejected—kiss.

She smiled, a slow, deliciously wicked smile. “I’m simply asking for champagne,” she purred, leaning back. The motion caused her breasts to press against the robe, forcing the neckline open a few fractions farther. “At least, that’s all for right now.”

Colin almost knocked the bottle over in his haste to turn away from her tempting display. He opened it and slowly poured two glasses, keeping his back to her.

She’s hot, no question. But she’s trouble. Remember?

No matter how tempting Emily Stanfield might be, sleeping with her would open a can of worms.

“So,” he said slowly, handing her a champagne flute and carefully sitting as far from her as the couch would allow. “I take it you’ve reconsidered my out-of-town status, then?”

He closed his eyes. He shouldn’t have asked, but he was curious as to her change of heart. She laughed, and the sound warmed his bloodstream like brandy.

“The more I thought about it, the more I realized—you are an out-of-towner.”

He shifted uncomfortably, remembering his early exchange with his family. Emily Stanfield was small-town to her bones. Wholesome values, dedication to her community. Tall Pines to the core.

And you’re not.

Her seductive smile slipped, revealing an expression of concern. “You’re worried because I turned you down before, aren’t you?” she said softly. “I hurt you. I’m sorry.”

“No, no,” he reassured her, unconsciously moving closer. “It’s not that. In fact, I think you were right. We probably shouldn’t sleep together.”

Her eyes snapped, a luminescent blue, fierce as a welding arc. “Why don’t you think we should?”

Now she was the one who sounded hurt. He stroked her hair, trying to take the sting out of his statement. “The same reasons you had. I’m not quite out-of-town enough…and the good people of Tall Pines would have a field day if they found out.”

“Who were you planning on telling?”

“What?” he asked, startled. “I wouldn’t tell anybody.”

“Neither would I,” she said, and he watched, hypnotized, as her hand trailed down and untied her robe. It fell open to reveal a deep-cherry-red silk teddy edged in white lace. “It’s nobody’s business but ours, Colin. Nobody else needs to know.”

His body went hard in a rush. No Christmas morning had ever held more promise than this moment, with this beautiful woman offering herself up as if she were every toy that he’d ever wanted in his entire life.

But she’s not a toy. And he couldn’t treat her like one.

“I’m leaving in the morning, Emily,” Colin said carefully, even though his voice was rough with desire.

“I know,” she answered. Was he imagining it or was there a thread of regret in her voice? “But we still have tonight.”

His body was clamoring for her, his heart beating double time, his cock harder than a steel girder. Were it any other woman, he’d have bridged the distance between them five minutes ago. If she were any other woman, they’d be well on their way to making it a very memorable night indeed.

Of course, if it were any other woman, he’d wake up in the morning and leave without a second thought. But it was Emily—and for whatever reason, he sensed that leaving her would cause a lot more repercussions than that. She deserved better than to be a one-night stand, one on a list of fond memories.

On the other hand, he had the sinking feeling that Emily Stanfield was not the type of woman he’d forget easily. And that caused a whole different kind of problem.

He sat on the couch, frozen in indecision.

She made a small sigh of irritation and then scooted closer, shrugging out of the robe. Emily had freckles on her shoulders, he noticed—a pale sprinkling. She leaned forward. “What time do you have to leave?” she whispered, her breath tickling the sensitive spot just below his ear.

“N-nine,” he stammered, struggling against another tidal wave of lust.

“That gives us hours,” she breathed, brushing a tiny kiss against his collarbone. He groaned. “Let’s not waste any more time.”

Colin couldn’t help himself. His hands moved forward, his fingertips caressing her long, swanlike neck, then smoothing down the petal-soft skin of her shoulders. His mouth consumed hers in a sensual assault, teasing her for only the briefest of moments before simply devouring her. He could hear her muffled cries of longing, feel the way her hands bunched in the fabric of his shirt, clutching him as if she couldn’t bear to let him go.

Did he position himself on top of her or did she pull him? He felt drunk on the taste of her, dizzy with it. He hazily registered the length of her body beneath his…the way her breasts crushed against his chest, the heat from between her thighs warming his jean-clad erection. Her quick fingers tugged his shirt out of his waistband, then found the naked skin beneath. With a low, unbelievably sexy growl, her hands rubbed up against his bare back, then with gentle insistence she drew her oval nails down his bare skin, causing him to shudder with need. He tore his mouth from hers for a second, gasping for air, fighting for control.