All He Wants for Christmas

by Karen Booth

  “I do trust Andrew,” Miranda said, catching his eye. “One hundred percent.”

  For a moment, the expression on Andrew’s face lightened, his eyes flashing with their deep brilliance. “Thank you,” he whispered.

  “Tara, I need to go. What can I do to help with this wedding fiasco? I have to think the venue is your first concern. Can’t you or Grant put some pressure on them? Surely you know someone over there.”

  “It’s not a matter of pressure. This close to Christmas, the space is in high demand. It’s gone. But maybe that part of it is for the best. I never wanted a big wedding, and we kept the guest list small. I think I’ve convinced Grant that we should just get married at the house.”

  “That’s a wonderful idea. You couldn’t ask for a more beautiful setting. What about the flowers? Other decorating and rentals? You’ll need chairs. Have you thought about a tent? I’m happy to handle any of that. I have contacts through my design business.”

  “Really? After what I said about Johnathon?”

  Miranda wasn’t sure if she was being naive, but something was telling her to keep pushing her agenda of mending these ties for Andrew. When this baby arrived, she wanted her world to be harmonious, or as close to that as she could get. “Yes. I really want to help.”

  “If you could tackle the flowers and rentals, that would take a big weight off my shoulders. I can deal with the caterers and everything else.”

  “That works. Can you send me some details about what you wanted? I’ll make a few phone calls to let people know we need them on that date. December nineteenth, right?”

  “That much has not changed. You’re wonderful, Miranda. Thank you.”

  “You’re like a sister to me, Tara. Sometimes you’re a pain in the butt, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love you and care about your happiness.”

  “I love you, too. I want you to be happy, too.”

  “Good. Because I need you to know that Andrew is my date for the wedding. And I need that to not be a problem, okay?”

  Tara sucked in a deep breath. Miranda could hear it over the line. “Got it.”

  “I’m serious. I want you to tell Grant, too.”

  “I’m on it. Believe me, I don’t want that day to be anything short of perfect.”

  “Me, too, Tara. Me, too.” Miranda ended the call and tossed aside her phone. “Well, that was an ordeal.”

  “I only heard part of the conversation. Tara and Grant’s wedding plans were canceled?”

  “Yes. And there’s a gossipy story on the internet saying they’ve split up and it’s making things bad at Sterling.”

  Andrew wagged his head from side to side. “It has to be Victor. He said that if he couldn’t destroy Sterling, he wanted to hurt them.”

  “You mean it.”

  Andrew again shook his head. “I specifically remember him saying them. That’s personal. You don’t get much more personal than ruining someone’s wedding.”

  “And it’s Grant and Tara. The two most senior people at the company.”

  “It’s a twofer. A direct hit. One more reason I have to stop Victor.”

  “Any ideas?”

  “When you were on the phone with Tara, I was in the other room trying to reach Sandy. I had to leave a message. No telling when or if she’ll call me back.”

  “So we wait?”

  “We don’t have a choice right now. I told Tara and Grant to be watching everything, but I was talking about the company. It’s understandable that they weren’t focused on the wedding plans they thought were firmly in place.”

  Miranda got up from her seat on the sofa, drawn to Andrew, like always. “I told her you’re my date. And I was very specific that everyone needs to be on their best behavior.”

  He gazed down into her eyes and once again, she felt as though she might never understand the complexity hidden behind them. “That shouldn’t have to be said. You shouldn’t have to defend me. I hate that it demands anything of you at all, other than to RSVP yes.”

  “I can’t help it. It just comes naturally to me. And I know they’ll come around. They will.”

  He gripped her forearm and tugged her closer, combing his fingers into her hair. “What makes you the way you are, Miranda Sterling? You have every reason in the world to be bitter and angry, but you never give in to it. I could learn a lot about generosity and forgiveness from you.”

  “You’re sweet.” Her heart felt like it was jumping around like a droplet of water on a hot skillet. She wanted him to take her upstairs and take off her clothes, so she could feel his hands all over her body. She needed him. She wanted him. And it would happen. But she had to make a few phone calls first. She’d promised. “If you want to learn some more about generosity, you can help me fix Tara and Grant’s wedding.”

  Ten

  Miranda was on wedding-repair duty, but Andrew was trying to help. He was on his laptop in her home office, sifting through the lengthy emails Tara had forwarded to Miranda, detailing everything from flowers to something called swags. He didn’t want to be a guy about it, but he was in a bit over his head.

  “That’s the last call.” Seated at her desk, Miranda jabbed at her cell phone once, then put it down. “Did you get anywhere with Tara’s wish list?”

  “I don’t even know what half of this stuff is.”

  “Like what?” There was a flirtatious edge to her voice that took him by surprise. She got up from her desk and walked over to where he was sitting, on the small love seat in her office.

  “Like a swag.” He pointed to the email on his laptop.

  She pushed down the screen until his computer was closed up. “Remember how we hung the strands of silver bells and garland above the doorway in the living room when we decorated for Christmas? That’s a swag. For the wedding, it’ll just be some fabric. It softens the rough edges.” Her grin was equal parts come-hither and shy. Her cheeks flushed with a breathtaking shade of pink, a lighter color than her lips. It was hopelessly inviting. All he could think was that she softened his rough edges.

  “No more volunteer work for Grant and Tara.”

  She stood before him in the same blue dress he’d seen her in when she’d left for work that morning, but somehow he hadn’t taken the time to really notice the way it hugged every inch of her gorgeous body, or the way it brought out her deep brown eyes.

  “You look absolutely gorgeous,” he said, craving her touch. Their gazes naturally found each other and the electricity between them was hard to fathom, like an entire year of a power plant’s output encapsulated in that moment. He was shocked that the current arcing between them wasn’t visible.

  “Thank you.” Her head tilted to the side, only a fraction of an inch, but he loved seeing the way she was willing to show him the subtle hints that he’d said the right thing. “You don’t look half-bad yourself.” She stepped closer, peering down at him. She was conveying a most intriguing mix of business and play. If she wanted to get serious about playing with him, he was up for that.

  She tugged on his hand and he stood. Her hands pressed hard against his chest, smoothing the fabric of his dress shirt. He watched her, smiling, their eyes again connecting. It looked as if there was a fire blazing behind hers—wild and intense. Which one of them would give in to the kiss first? He had no idea. He only knew that he would win either way.

  “I want things to be good between us, Miranda. I don’t want us to be lugging around so much baggage. It doesn’t feel fair.” He felt a burning need to bring up the state of their relationship, however much it was tenuous and defied definition. This was the price of wanting to make love to a woman who had once been married to his brother. He was treading on hallowed ground.

  “I agree. I don’t want anything else between us.” Her lips parted ever so slightly and a gentle rush of air passed from them. It was the sound of pressure being released
. “Including clothes.” Her hands hadn’t left his chest. She leaned into him, and her fingers played with the buttons of his shirt. “I vote that we don’t worry about anything more than you and me and the evening we have stretching out before us.”

  He grinned again, this time much more eagerly.

  “You’re smiling,” she said.

  “Of course I am. It’s impossible to not be happy around you. Even when it’s been a terrible day, you bring it out of me.”

  He snaked his hand around her waist and settled it in the curve of her lower back. Her lips traveled closer to his, but she stopped shy of a kiss, humming instead, the vibration sending waves of anticipation to his mouth. She flicked open one of the buttons of his shirt. Only one. This was quickly turning into a game of undressing, and as much as he loved a slow seduction, he wanted her naked. He reached up for the zipper of her dress, then pulled it down the center of her back as she finally started to rush through his shirt buttons. He longed to see the stretch of her skin revealed by the open zipper, so he turned her around, admiring her creamy skin as it contrasted with a black bra. He continued with the downward motion of the metal closure, his breath catching when he caught sight of her lacy panties. He eased the dress from her shoulders, savoring every sensory pleasure—her smell, the heat that radiated from her, her smooth skin as he dragged the back of his hand along the channel of her spine. Her presence didn’t merely have him primed. He was already perilously close to the brink.

  The garment slipped down the length of her body to the floor and she cast a seductive look back at him, her eyes deep, warm and craving. “A lot less between us now.”

  Oh, yes. He grasped her shoulders and pinned her back to his chest, then wrapped his arms around her waist. He reached down and caressed the soft roundness of her belly as she craned her neck. He kissed her with some force—enough so that she would never question how much he wanted her. He cupped one of her breasts, the silky fabric of her bra teasing his palm as her skin tightened beneath his touch. Their tongues tangled and Miranda turned herself in his arms. He wrangled himself out of his shirt and pants with some help from her. It was a frantic and hurried blur. They were both eager to get to the main event. He pulled her close when he was naked and kissed her again. Miranda cast aside any sweetness for a demanding edge he wanted to satisfy.

  With a pop, he unhooked her bra and quickly teased it from her body. He took her breasts in his hands and Miranda’s eyes fluttered shut as his thumbs rubbed back and forth against her dark pink, firm nipples. The gasp that came from her when he flicked his tongue against her tight skin was music to his ears.

  She bent to one side to step out of her panties. Her beautiful bare body heightened his awareness of how badly he wanted to claim her. There was no way they’d make it upstairs. At least not until later. He sat on the love seat, half-reclining, and reached out his hand.

  “Come here. I need you.”

  She smiled and cocked an eyebrow, taking his hand. “No bedroom?”

  “Not this first time. We have all night. For upstairs.”

  “Are you that impatient?”

  “In a word, yes.” The breath caught in his chest as he watched her carefully set her knee next to his hip and straddle him. The sky outside had fully fallen into darkness, but the glow from the lamp on her desk was just bright enough to show off the dips and hollows of her delicate collarbone. He traced his fingers along the contours.

  She smiled, dropping her head to kiss him. Her silky hair brushed the sides of his face. He was almost sorry he didn’t have the visual of the moment she took him in her hand, guided him inside and began to sink down around him. A deep groan escaped his throat as her body molded around him, warm and inviting. He couldn’t think of another place on earth he’d rather be.

  She settled her weight on his and they moved together in a dance he wanted to go on forever. He couldn’t believe that this beautiful, sweet woman would ever want him. She rocked her hips into his, again and again, as they kissed and his hands cradled her velvety, perfect bottom. He was already in such ecstasy that it felt as if his body was floating, but he would’ve been lying if he’d said that his heart wasn’t heavy. This happened every time they made love. Every time she gave of herself like this. He’d done the unthinkable. He’d fallen for his dead brother’s wife. There was no unringing that bell.

  Miranda’s breaths quickened and before he knew what was happening, she was gathering around him in steady pulses. It was enough to pull him out of his more serious thoughts and mercifully push him into the moment. She sat back, their eyes connecting for an instant, then she gave in to the sensation fully, closing her eyes and knocking her head back. He shut his own eyes and the relief shuddered out of him. Either he was dreaming, or each passing wave brought them closer.

  * * *

  Miranda felt worn-out, yet light as air. She collapsed against Andrew’s chest, still struggling to catch her breath as a few echoes of the pleasure washed over her. There had been a moment in the midst of their lovemaking that he’d slipped away from her. He’d seemed disengaged. It probably only lasted for a second or two, and it was insignificant in terms of what they’d just done together, but it still made her concerned.

  “Are you okay?” She sat back and cradled both sides of his head, peering straight into his eyes.

  He laughed quietly, his eyes not quite open all the way. “Are you kidding me? I’m better than okay. I’m magnificent. You’re amazing.”

  He brought his lips to her bare shoulder and it reminded her body of the things he could do to her with just a single touch. Her nipples grew hard again. Her center ached for more of him, even when she was straddling his lap and there were no clothes between them.

  “Okay. It’s just that there was a moment when it felt like you weren’t here. It’s not a big deal. And maybe it’s my pregnancy brain. I swear it doesn’t work the way it used to. I just wanted to be sure that everything’s okay.”

  “Sure.”

  “You can tell me anything, you know.”

  He grinned. “You love to push it, don’t you?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t like leaving things unsaid.”

  He nodded and pulled her closer until she had no choice but to settle her head on his shoulder. Perhaps this was easier for him, when they didn’t have to look each other in the eye. His fingers traveled gracefully up and down her back, lulling her into peacefulness. Still, she sensed that there was something between them, and she’d just told him that she didn’t want that to be the case.

  “This isn’t easy, Miranda, but I feel stupid even saying that. It’s not like you don’t already know that. It’s not like you don’t experience that every day.”

  She sensed what he was about to say next, and it brought a tear to her eye.

  “Like it or not, the reality of our situation is that Johnathon brought us together. He’s the reason we’re here alone. It’s difficult for me to come to terms with that. I have to wonder if the guilt will always be there.”

  Miranda pushed back so she could see his face. She wanted him to understand that she was just as torn as he was. “I know. There are times when I can look beyond it and moments when I can’t. But I don’t want guilt to dictate what happens between us.” She felt foolish for saying that, but the truth was that she was a widow who was expecting a baby. Her life was flat-out serious. That was all there was to it. She could act like things were of little consequence, but that wasn’t where she was.

  “I don’t want it to, either. I’m just telling you that’s the struggle I’m going through right now. But I don’t want to burden you with that. You have enough to worry about, between the baby and work and now having to deal with Tara and Grant’s wedding.”

  “How did I get sucked into that, anyway?”

  “You’re too nice. That’s how.”

  “Um, not entirely true. I stood up to Tara t
oday. She knows we’re...” She waved her hands around. “Doing this.”

  “Having sex?”

  “Yes. I asked her if Astrid told her, but it turns out that she guessed.”

  “Astrid knows, too? How did that happen?”

  Miranda felt the heat rise in her cheeks. “I couldn’t help it. We were talking about all of the Thanksgiving drama on Monday and it just sort of slipped out. Are you mad?”

  “I’m assuming this means your brother also knows.”

  Miranda shrugged. “Probably.” She hadn’t given that too much thought, but it was logical. Astrid and Clay were very open with each other. “It’s a good thing, if you think about it. He still likes you.”

  Andrew let loose one of his unguarded laughs. They didn’t come often, but Miranda loved it when they did. “He said he likes me because I take care of you.”

  “He’s right. I was not a happy camper before you moved in.”

  “I find that very hard to believe. I mean, I know you’re still in mourning, but you’re so upbeat.”

  Miranda thought about the many days where it was nearly impossible to roll out of bed, or the mornings where she sat at the kitchen table and couldn’t bring herself to go back upstairs, take a shower, get dressed and go to work. And then there had been the many, many days when she couldn’t function in the office for more than a few hours before she was exhausted and had to go home. On those nights, she usually curled into a ball and cried herself to sleep. She’d felt it was a necessary part of grieving, to simply give in to the things her mind and body craved, but the reality was that ever since Andrew had come along, those inclinations had started to fade. Just feeling life in the house again made her happy. But once she’d discovered what it meant for that life to be from Andrew, everything had started to change. He was strong and selfless. Warm and caring. Everything she’d always been told he wasn’t.

  She loved Johnathon, but damn him for portraying his brother in such a negative light.