“Don’t you have a beautiful girlfriend waiting for you in LA.?” she asked, wondering why he was bothering with seductive come-ons with her.
“Nope.” His serious blue-eyed gaze met hers.
“The papers said—”
“The first thing you’re going to need to learn is that you should never ever believe anything you read in the papers, respectable publication or otherwise. Always confirm the story with me first, or better yet, trust your gut.”
“You talk like you’re going to be around long enough for it to matter. It doesn’t. I’m sorry I even brought up the subject.”
“No you aren’t, and neither am I. I want you to know everything about me now, just like I intend to learn everything about you. But first, I want that dance you promised me.”
“I never—”
His finger halted her moving lips, the touch both firm and gentle. “Are you going to deny us something we both want?”
She sighed, then placed her hand in his and let him wind their way to the dance floor. His hand came to rest at her waist, intimately pulling her against him until their lower bodies swayed in unison to the sultry beat of the music.
She shut her eyes and gave herself over to feeling, suddenly understanding why John had never been enough. Why no man had ever come close. No one could ever live up to the memory of her first love, and now he was back, wreaking havoc with her life again.
Though she was older and wiser this time, the thought gave her no sense of comfort because she was no more in control of her emotions and desires than she was over the inevitable outcome of this brief reunion.
The snow had started falling sometime during the party. White flakes drifted down and stuck to the ground and, combined with the weather forecast over the next few days, brought with them the certainty of a white Christmas. It’d been years since Dylan had enjoyed snow and even longer since the promise of tomorrow looked so damn good.
He waited as Holly pulled her wool coat tight around her and cinched the belt at her waist. Dancing with her, holding her in his arms again, had convinced him this return home had been exactly what he needed. And if the byplay between Holly and John was any indication, Dylan was exactly what she needed too. He hated like hell that his old friend John would be a casualty, but obviously things between him and Holly hadn’t been all that good before Dylan returned to the picture.
Dylan knew Holly was wary and had good reason to mistrust both him and his motives, but he’d made progress already. He had but one crucial week to cement her trust.
“Ready?” he asked her.
She nodded.
“Where do you live now?”
She pulled on a pair of black gloves. “I took over the apartment above the office that Dad used to rent out to students.”
“Smart move. So you walked here?”
“Yes.” She inclined her head. “What about you? Are you staying with your mother?”
“Would she let me live if I didn’t?” He chuckled. “She’s so happy to have me back home that she’s already cooked me breakfast, lunch and dinner.”
They started down the street.
“Careful or she’ll spoil you. Do you cook for yourself back home?”
He took the fact that she was asking questions about his life as a positive sign. “If it can be defrosted in a microwave and zapped, I can cook it,” he said proudly.
She laughed, and the sound carried on the wind, churning in his gut. “That sounds pretty close to my life lately. But I hired a partner who’s supposed to start working after the first of the year, and I really hope it’ll take some of the burden off me!”
“Assuming the old folks take to her?” Dylan asked knowingly.
“It’s a him,” Holly said. “Lance Tollgate. I think the patients will like him,” she said, her voice warming. “He’s young and friendly, and he’s got kids, so he can relate to the grandparents and parents. It should be a good fit.”
“Your father would be really proud of you.”
“Yeah, he was.” Her voice cracked with emotion. “Sorry. It just hasn’t been that long.”
Dylan swallowed hard. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here.” He reached for her hand and held on tight.
“I got through it. There was a lot you weren’t here for,” she reminded him.
He knew they’d have to discuss and deal with his abrupt departure if he had any hope of her believing he wouldn’t abandon her again. But he wanted her to get to know him again first.
They approached the office, and she led him around back to the private entrance. He followed her up the few steps to the front door and paused.
“Do you want to come in for a cup of coffee or a drink?” she asked while fishing for her keys.
He did, but he had other plans. “Thanks anyway, but I need to get up early.”
She shrugged, a “suit yourself” gesture, but he saw the hurt and lack of understanding in her gaze.
He reached out and cupped her cheek, his thumb caressing the soft skin in broad strokes. “Do you have plans tomorrow?”
“I’m off. I’m forwarding patients to a covering doctor in the next town. If I don’t get some time to myself, I won’t be good for anyone.” She spoke quickly, obviously in a rush to get inside and away from him.
“How about I pick you up early and we head into Boston for some holiday shopping?” he asked.
She turned to face him. The glow from the outside light illuminated her blond hair and exquisitely made-up features. He hadn’t thought about it before, but not only had she shown up at the party, she’d gone all out for it too.
Pleasure took hold inside him. “You’re beautiful, you know. Not in the young-girl way I remembered, but in a womanly way I appreciate so much more.”
She narrowed her gaze. “What kind of game are you playing, Dylan? You can’t come in for a drink because you have plans; then you offer to pick me up early tomorrow. What’s going on with you?” Thoroughly annoyed, she perched her hands on her hips while her lips puckered into a pretty pout.
He shook his head. “Sorry about the mixed signals. I want nothing more than to come in, but we both know where that’ll lead, and I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I want to take it slow.”
“Slow?” Her lips mouthed the word. “Ten years isn’t slow enough? You’d rather just torture me, is that it?”
“I want you to go to sleep and dream of nothing but me?” He let his fingers trace the outline of her glossed lips. “So when I pick you up tomorrow, you’re ready to focus solely and completely on getting to know me again, and me getting to know you.”
“You want to discover what makes me tick now?” she asked, a sparkle and teasing glint in her eyes.
“In a word, yes.”
Unexpectedly, her tongue darted out and licked the pad of his thumb, being deliberately seductive. He felt the sensation straight through to his already hard groin.
Before he could think it through, he slipped his hand around the back of her neck and pulled her towards him, capturing her mouth with his. Her lips softened but didn’t part. Obviously she intended to make him work for what he wanted, and that was okay with him.
He slid his lips back and forth over hers, floored by the gratification he found in tasting her at last. The longer they kissed, the more he realized that his memories had grown fuzzy and reality was so much better and definitely hotter. He braced her face in his hands, tilted her head and continued to tease and taste, just as he’d promised, kissing her slowly, intent on branding her and making sure that if she slept, her dreams would be of him.
His tongue glided over the seam of her lips, and he was rewarded with a low moan from the back of her throat as she opened her mouth and let him inside. He savored the absolute sweetness and desire flooding him. His groin pushed hard against his jeans, the urge to possess her with his body strong.
Before he could go back on his word and join her inside, he stepped back, reminding himself that he wanted to win her trust for th
e long haul. Not just for one night in bed.
She met his gaze with heavy-lidded eyes, her mouth reddened from his kiss. “You’ve perfected your technique,” she murmured.
He grinned. “I’ll take that as a compliment, babe, and you should know, your technique’s gotten pretty good too. Still, I don’t think technique has anything to do with it.”
“No? Then what explains two people who don’t learn from their mistakes?”
“Speak for yourself. I’ve learned a lot from the past. And I think it’s us that’s so potent.”
She raised an eyebrow. “This from the man who said we were nothing more than a high-school crush?”
He accepted the blow. “An immature boy said that, not the man I am now.”
She swallowed hard. “Who is that man, and what does he want from me?” she asked.
“Time will tell.” He didn’t mean to be cryptic, but he could hardly say, I’ve come back for you, and expect her to believe his words when his promise had failed her before. “Just give me some time.”
Her fingers touched her moist, red lips. “Sex wasn’t enough before.”
“We’re older and wiser now.”
She grinned. “We can always hope.” She let herself into the apartment and shut the door behind her.
He expelled a breath and tried to pull himself together. He’d been her first, Dylan remembered, and though she’d been an eager learner, she’d rarely initiated sex. This teasing side of her was new, and he liked it a whole lot.
He couldn’t wait to explore more.
Chapter Three
Holly knew she’d either lost her mind or she was experiencing an early midlife crisis. There was no other explanation for kissing Dylan and then agreeing to spend more time with him. Then again, what choice did she have? The clean break they’d taken—make that the clean break he’d forced on her—hadn’t accomplished anything. Their chemistry and connection was still as strong as ever. She had no choice but to play this through to whatever conclusion awaited her, or she couldn’t move on with her life. She’d be in the same limbo hell she’d been in for the last ten years.
So by the time he rang her doorbell the following morning, she was dressed in her favorite jeans and baseball cap and she was ready to shop in Boston with Dylan by her side.
She opened the door, and he greeted her with a cup of Starbucks in each hand. “You come bearing gifts?” she asked, laughing.
“Straight up for me and a froufrou drink for you. I can’t think of a better way to take the T to Copley,” he said, speaking of Boston’s version of public transportation.
“I must’ve heard you wrong. America’s heartthrob is going to take the train? Do you want to get mobbed?” She shook her head, realizing she really hadn’t thought about his ego or what his lifestyle must be like now. “Never mind. To be so successful, you must like the spotlight.”
He shrugged, looking uncomfortable. “Like isn’t the right word. It comes with the territory of being successful. You get used to it, but you don’t ever enjoy not having a personal life or having to work for a solitary moment.”
She studied his serious face. “You don’t enjoy the fame?” she asked, surprised.
“I did in the beginning. But it got old fast, and I realized that no matter how many people surrounded me, I was always alone. And lonely.”
The wistful sound in his voice caught her off guard and she narrowed her gaze. “Should I pull out the violin?”
He laughed at that. “I’m not looking for your pity. I’m just answering your question and telling it like it is. I want you to know me. Who I was and who I’ve become. Yes, I love my career, but I’ve given up a lot for it.” Again he sobered as he spoke.
She met his serious stare and suddenly wondered if his return could have more to do with his emotional state than a brief visit to see his mother. He seemed so reflective. But she couldn’t imagine that Dylan had suddenly decided that he missed home and Holly. Not after a silent ten years. Which brought up the question, just where did she fit into the equation of his life?
“We all make choices,” she said of his decision to pursue a Hollywood career.
“And sometimes we live to regret them.” He squeezed her hand, and she felt as if her heart were being clenched tight as well.
“Are you saying you’re sorry you went to L.A.?”
He shook his head. “I’m sorry for how I went about it.”
She swallowed hard and nodded, not certain she was ready for any further discussion on their past, yet she wasn’t ready to end the talk just yet. “And now?”
He grinned. “Now we go about taking things one step at a time. We’re going shopping, and we’re going to take the train like regular people. Nobody’s going to expect to see me on the T, so they’ll think maybe I share a resemblance with the famous Dylan North, but they’ll be so sure they’re wrong they’ll leave us alone.” He wagged his eyebrows like a kid. “That’s what I want. How about you?”
“That’s what I want too.” That’s what scared her so much, she thought as she picked up her ski jacket and her bag. “So who are you shopping for today?”
“I’m a big brother,” he explained. And during their trip to the city, he told her about Darrell, the kid he mentored, and the program he’d been funding with a percentage of his earnings for the last two years.
In Sports Authority he purchased a pair of Reebok basketball sneakers, a Spalding official NBA basketball, and some gym clothes for Darrell. Then he ordered basketballs in bulk for a youth program and arranged to have everything shipped to a community center in South Central L.A. Watching the care he took in choosing the gifts, Holly learned that the man wasn’t just rich and famous, but he gave back to the community in which he lived, and it became even harder to rein in her heart.
Over lunch he changed the subject. He wanted to hear about her years in college and medical school, which she managed to condense into a short story since she wanted to hear more about him.
He told her about his trip and all his firsts in L.A. She learned about his initial glimpse of the Hollywood sign, his search for an agent and his first job waiting tables, a job from which he was fired for spilling iced tea down Dolly Parton’s dress. Laughing, he insisted on paying the check.
While she shopped for family and friends, he revisited his excitement over his first acting job, when he learned which actors would take him under their wing and which were too afraid of losing their own success to help someone else. For the first time she was able to put her hurt aside and see what he’d been searching for as an actor.
She understood they still needed to talk about how he’d handled his decision to leave her, but for now she was content to enjoy his company in an adult way they’d never experienced before. They parted for half an hour, during which she bought his gift. By the time they’d gotten back home, he’d managed to avoid crowds and had signed only two autographs the entire day. Each time someone recognized him, they made a quick escape and found an entirely new place to shop. He was as adept at acting pleased to meet his fans as he was at ducking them at first opportunity.
Holly couldn’t remember a more fun or sexually charged day. His cologne turned her on and kept her aroused with each breath she took, and he never stopped touching her. Either he held her hand as they walked, his palm tucked against hers, or he cupped the small of her back, steering her this way and that. Whatever they did, he made certain they were connected the entire afternoon, and as a result, her body tingled with awareness.
At the train station in Acton, they slid into the car and Dylan turned towards her, one hand over her headrest. “So what next?”
Holly’s heart pounded hard in her chest. She’d wrestled with this all afternoon, wondering if she could really have Dylan in her apartment and still be the same when he returned to L.A. Probably not, but it didn’t matter. Given the chance to be with him, how could she turn him away?
Her gaze met his. “I still have to finish decorating my tree
. I could make you dinner in exchange for your help,” she offered.
If he turned down this not-so-subtle invitation as he had turned her down last night, she was finished playing his getting-to-know-each-other-again game.
He reached a hand out and caressed her cheek. “I’d love that,” he said, the smile on his face evident in his voice.
Tremors of excitement shot through her, and as he turned the engine over, her stomach rolled with anticipation at the night to come.
Whoever said you couldn’t come home again didn’t know Holly Evans, Dylan thought. Her apartment was cozy and made him feel welcome and at ease. While she put something together for dinner, Dylan kept himself busy stringing the lights on her tree. He couldn’t believe the Holly he knew, who loved Christmas, hadn’t decorated her apartment before now, but her hectic schedule was his gain. He put his own touches on her tree, and in doing so he hoped he was making a definite mark in her life.
He heard her footsteps as she walked in to join him. His gaze was immediately drawn to the way the tight denim jeans molded to her hips and thighs. Still slender, she’d filled out in a womanly way that made him hard just looking at her. It wasn’t desire alone that beckoned to him but the sense of fulfillment and belonging he found only with her.
Today had shown him that his memories were but shadows of reality. Together they could share so much, if he could convince her to open her heart to him again.
“Hi, there,” he said.
“Hi. Dinner should be ready in about forty-five minutes. I hope you like frozen lasagne because when I offered to cook, I forgot I hadn’t been shopping in a while. We’re lucky I was able to find something to defrost so we could eat at all.” She knelt down and sat on the hardwood floor.
“I’d have been happy to take you out, but I’m happier to have more time alone.” He patted the empty space beside him, but she kept her distance.
She smiled, but after a day of laughter and relaxed fun, he recognized forced cheer when he saw it. “What’s wrong?”
Holiday Heat Page 8
