The First Noelle

by Delia Latham

  “Well. You’re just full of compliments, aren’t you?” She chose to be playful, otherwise the situation could get mighty sticky mighty fast. “I will hurry right home and try to turn myself into a sock knock-er off-er.” Then she’d hightailed it out of there before he could say something else that made her want to throw caution to the winds and herself into his arms.

  With a sigh and then a smile, she picked up her evening bag and headed downstairs just in time to hear the doorbell. Right on time…but she’d expected that. He wasn’t the kind of man to keep a girl waiting.

  By the time she reached the bottom of the stairs, both of her parents stood in the entry with Michael, introducing themselves and failing to look anything but over-the-top curious about their daughter’s date.

  “Have you lived in the area long, Michael?” Her father’s question wasn’t nosy or rude, but Noelle arrived in time to see her date’s reaction—just the tiniest flinch of discomfort.

  “Dad, don’t—”

  Michael chuckled and sent her a wink. “Several years, sir. I’m afraid I don’t get out a whole lot.”

  “We’re not much in the social swing of things either. Do you have family here?”

  “I—” A trapped expression crossed his face but disappeared so fast Noelle wondered if it had ever been there at all. “I used to.”

  “Well, then, you’ll have to join us for our next backyard barbecue.” Noelle’s mother graced Michael with a smile that would’ve charmed the meanest mountain snake around. “Nothing says family like a barbecue—and you’ll not taste a better steak anywhere. Ken has the market cornered.”

  “I’d be honored.” Michael raised an eyebrow at Noelle. “You look gorgeous.”

  “Thank you.” She bit back a grin, dying to return the same compliment, but she wouldn’t tease him when he was already squirming. “Are you ready?”

  “I am.” He extended a hand to her father. “A pleasure meeting you, sir.”

  “Likewise. And call me Ken, please.”

  “And I’m Nancy.” Her mom patted Michael’s arm, and then turned to give Noelle’s outfit a quick once-over and an approving nod. “Have fun, you two.”

  Noelle hugged them both. “No need to wait up. I have my key.” She held it up for their inspection then tucked it into her bag and preceded Michael out the door.

  The moment they were alone, he took her hand and brought it to his lips. “You really are stunning.”

  “You clean up pretty nicely yourself.” She grinned, determined to keep things light, at least for a while. Maybe later…

  His gaze took in her hair—barely long enough to accommodate its current messy up-do—and then moved to her eyes and stopped at her lips. Something hungry in his gaze made her gasp, and he grinned.

  “Don’t worry. I don’t intend to make a meal of you, even if you do look delectable.” He used his free hand to finger the deep maroon silk of her gown. “Red is your color. Always has been.”

  She blinked. “What?”

  He cleared his throat and laughed—a low, deep rumble that rocked Noelle’s world. “Black hair…golden eyes...beautiful olive skin tone. I can’t imagine red not looking good on you at any time in your life.”

  She shook her head and tugged him toward the car. “You have a way of saying things that rattle my composure.”

  “Then we’re even.” He pulled her a little closer and slipped an arm around her waist as they reached his vehicle. “Mine has been shaken, rattled, and rolled since you showed up at Holliday House.”

  He lowered his head and brushed his lips across hers—quick, light and unexpected—and then opened the door and stood back while she settled onto the supple leather seat.

  Noelle couldn’t bring herself to meet his gaze, but as she waited in the dark interior for him to round the hood and climb behind the wheel, she smiled—because she couldn’t not smile.

  So she rattled his cage too. She could live with that. Every woman wanted to know she could bring out the wild side of a man now and then.

  9

  Michael had no intention of taking Noelle to dinner in one of Hope Springs’ perfectly passable but less-than-spectacular restaurants. If the lady wanted to go out, he’d take her way out. He drove all the way to San Francisco—an hour away—where he’d made reservations at an exclusive restaurant on the outskirts of the city.

  As they sipped at coconut coffee espressos after dinner, he allowed himself to stare…to absorb the picture she made when she laid aside that prickly emotional armor, which she seemed to have discarded for the time being—possibly for good. One could only hope.

  Tonight, her smile was real. Michael recognized the sincerity behind the lopsided curve of her lips. She’d never needed much makeup, and she’d donned little this evening. The natural perfection of smooth, olive-toned skin paired with those golden-caramel eyes was enough…especially considering she possessed eyelashes long and dark enough to rouse the envy of the entire female species.

  He’d have no problem sitting right here, watching Noelle shine, for the rest of his life.

  A tinkle of laughter interrupted his wayward thoughts.

  “What? I’m wearing the foam from my coffee, aren’t I?” She picked up a napkin and dabbed at her lips, but the upward curve remained in place. “You’re staring.”

  Without a word, Michael laid an open hand on the table. She hesitated, but finally placed her fingers over his. He wasted no time capturing them in a firm grip.

  “There’s nothing on your face.”

  “Then what…?” She narrowed her gaze. “Michael, what are you thinking?”

  “That I’ve never seen anything more beautiful than you, right now in this moment.”

  Her smile wavered and then warmed. “Thank you. That’s very sweet.”

  He chuckled. “It’s true, Noelle.”

  “Well.” She reached for her coffee, which he was sure was cold by now, and shot him an impish grin. “Compliments will get you no decrease in fees from Joy Designs.”

  Now he laughed outright. “Can’t blame a guy for trying.” He sobered quickly. “Feel up to a walk along the lake?”

  The restaurant was tucked into a graceful curve in a large, natural lake. Someone with a good sense of romance and an excellent feel for what diners might want after enjoying a bit too much to eat, had laid out a lovely, lighted path along that curve. Lined by old-fashioned lampposts, the walkway followed the lake for at least a mile, and then circled back into the parking lot. Separate trails back to the restaurant broke off at various distances along the way.

  “I’d love to walk.” A lovely glow lit Noelle’s eyes, and then dimmed. “But I’m in heels. I’m not sure I can—”

  “Got it handled.” Michael grinned and stood but held tight to her hand. “Follow me.”

  Back at his car, he opened her door. “Have a seat, just for a second.”

  She gave him a questioning, high-browed look, but did as he asked.

  Michael knelt in front of her and reached for her foot. His fingers trailed over her ankles and hooked the strap at the back of her heel. A sharp intake of breath reached his ears as he eased the shoe from her foot and reached for the other one. His heart pounded like a teen boy on his first date. Maybe Noelle wouldn’t notice the slight tremble of his hands.

  With both shoes hanging from his fingers, he looked up. Her dewy gaze slammed him with a wave of pure emotion that nearly knocked him backward.

  “Don’t go anywhere.” He could only manage a whisper, but she nodded, and he hurried to the trunk, dropped her heels inside and returned to kneel at her feet again.

  Noelle laughed—a soft, warm gurgle of pure delight, straight out of the past.

  He’d thought about that sweet laughter a thousand times over a long, empty ten years.

  “You brought the sneakers I left in the mudroom. Josie said they wouldn’t be a problem there.”

  “Then it must be true.” Michael busied himself, helping her into the more comforta
ble shoes. “I happened to see them and remembered this path. Thought it couldn’t hurt to bring them along.”

  “I’m glad you did.” Her voice was low, a little raspy, and completely dangerous.

  Michael took her hand and gave it what he thought was a gentle tug to help her out of the car. She bounced up fast and landed hard against his chest. His arms were around her before he knew what he was doing.

  She raised a hand to graze his cheek. Her lips parted…just enough…and Michael groaned.

  “Noelle…”

  “Michael?” She leaned into him, and her warm, coconut and coffee-scented breath brushed his skin. “Michael. Please…”

  Please what? Kiss her? Get away from her? Make the feelings go away?

  He tugged her closer. She tiptoed a little bit higher.

  And Michael kissed her with all the pent-up feelings from a decade of empty longing. When at last he tried to pull away, she held on, leaning against him as if she possessed no strength of her own. He slipped an arm around her waist, brushed another kiss across her forehead, and led her away from the car.

  “Let’s, uh—” He paused to clear his throat. Since when had his voice croaked and squeaked in the same breath like a boy in the throes of puberty? “Let’s walk.”

  ****

  They strolled, arms around each other’s waists. Noelle relished his nearness. For the first time since Trevor, her body vibrated with life. Her heart yearned toward another human being. Her thoughts were focused on Michael alone.

  Until now, she’d refused to give any conscious consideration to what was happening between her and the mysterious architect. Tonight had changed everything, and innate honesty forced her to admit that she’d thought of little besides this man for some time. She hadn’t wanted to admit that she was falling for him, but after that kiss, she could no longer pretend it wasn’t happening.

  Noelle Joy was in love. Again. She’d been so sure the walls she’d built with such careful deliberation could not be breached.

  A low burst of laughter escaped her lips, and she blinked twice and then grinned. Apparently, love did lots of things without permission.

  A thrill skittered up her spine when Michael gave her waist a light squeeze. He stopped beneath the soft glow of a lamppost, where he pulled her close and then trailed a finger from her temple to her chin and upward to trace her lips in a gentle caress. “What’s funny, my sweet Christmas song?”

  Noelle stiffened and pulled back, ignoring the fire coursing through her veins. Her gaze fixed on his. “Wh—what did you call me?”

  A quick shadow crossed his eyes. Panic? Or not. Maybe he was simply confused by the pendulum swing of her mood.

  “My sweet Christmas song?” Michael shrugged one shoulder, watching her through a narrowed gaze. He probably thought she’d lost her mind. “Is there a reason I shouldn’t say that?”

  It had been Trevor’s term of endearment from their first kiss. Only he ever used those exact words.

  “N—no. I just… I—” She sighed. “Someone I once knew used to call me that.”

  “Oh.” His soft smile relaxed the knot in her throat and the tension in her shoulders. He bent his head to place a trail of kisses on her face, her chin, her neck. “I’m sorry if I brought up old memories—especially if that someone was another man. The last thing I want to do…” His lips inched back up toward hers. “…is have you thinking of someone else when you’re in my arms.”

  She slipped her hands behind his neck, and allowed her fingers to slide up and into the soft, thick waves of his hair. “If I say I’m thinking only of you, will you stop talking and just kiss me?”

  He chuckled. “Only if it’s true.”

  “Completely true.” She squelched the little nudge of guilt at the almost-lie. “No more stray thoughts.”

  “Well, then, I suppose I owe the lady a kiss.”

  He clearly wasn’t a man to hold back on paying a debt. His lips met hers in a soft kiss that soon deepened to something far more, and Noelle’s almost-lie became full truth. All lucid thought dissolved, awakening every other sense to the fire in her blood, the weakness of her limbs, and the barely bridled passion incited by Michael’s touch.

  She cuddled close against his side on the trip back to Hope Springs—her head on his shoulder, their fingers linked. Tonight’s spur-of-the-moment date had turned into something that felt like a dream…and yet utterly real.

  Later, lying in bed, her mind and body still wide awake, alert, and tingling with awareness, Noelle relived the evening in minute detail. She sat up in bed, a chill rippling through the warm glow of new love.

  My sweet Christmas song.

  She swung her legs off the bed and pulled a warm robe around her shoulders. Sitting in the dark, she took a mental tour through the past few weeks. She’d found something about Michael familiar right from the start. His voice. His eyes. Tonight, even his touch and his words brought Trevor to mind.

  Was it possible a connection existed between the two men?

  Irritated, she gave her head a shake. Tonight’s events were bound to make her think of Trevor. No one else had ever kissed her in the way she’d been kissed tonight. Over the years, one or another hopeful suitor had tried to make a relationship semi-physical with a kiss. None elicited an emotional reaction in Noelle, and she refused to keep dating any man whose kiss left her pulse rate flat-lined.

  She lay back on the bed, still wrapped in her robe, and smiled into the darkness. No chance of a sluggish heartbeat with Michael around. The man sent her blood pressure, heartbeat, and overall calm right through the roof.

  Noelle determined to never again allow the ghost of Trevor-past to have the slightest effect on her. She hoped she dreamed of Michael, calling her his sweet Christmas song, in the same sexy tone of voice he’d used earlier. The sooner she became accustomed to being caught up in someone else, the sooner all the Trevor cobwebs would be swept from her mind forever.

  10

  Every nerve on edge, Michael waited for Noelle to arrive at Holliday House.

  He’d had no intention of kissing her last night and certainly hadn’t planned for things to get so physical, so fast. Last night was supposed to just be a date—a new beginning. But then she bounced out of the car and landed in his arms. He’d been unable to resist just one kiss. And then another and another.

  He groaned. What a fool! He’d meant to tell her who he was before getting too close. Noelle disliked deceit in any form—always had. She hated subterfuge, abhorred lies, and despised anything less than absolute truth.

  He’d had good reason to keep his secret for a time. But now he’d given in to the overwhelming desire to taste her lips, to experience her touch…to see if they still shared the fire that existed between them before.

  How could he tell her now?

  He hadn’t abandoned her by choice. He’d adored her from childhood and wanted her at his side for a lifetime. Then came that awful night before the wedding. The night he’d witnessed something he should never have seen, and thereby destroyed his life and Noelle’s.

  “Miss Joy is here, Mr. Michael.” Josie voice rose. “Mr. Michael?”

  “Thank you, Josie. Send her here, to the study, please.”

  He’d know how much damage he’d done soon enough.

  When she entered, he stood at the window, staring out over the gardens and seeing nothing at all.

  “Michael?”

  He grabbed onto every ounce of courage he possessed, straightened his shoulders and turned.

  Noelle stood just inside the doorway, nibbling at her bottom lip as she always did when nerves overcame her. With her hair pulled into the high ponytail she wore when she worked, wearing jeans, a sweatshirt, and sneakers, and without a touch of makeup…she didn’t look a day older than she had a decade ago.

  He smiled, and that’s all it took to erase her uncertain expression.

  Noelle flew across the room and into his arms.

  He nuzzled her hair, giving himse
lf time to find his voice and then pulled back enough to look into her eyes. “What did I do to merit this kind of greeting? Tell me so I can do it again.”

  Her soft laughter bespoke music and bells and the merry babble of a brook. “I was afraid you’d be different today.”

  “Different how?”

  She lowered her eyelashes, and color flooded her cheeks. “I thought you might regret…kissing me.”

  Michael slipped a finger under her chin and gentled it upward, forcing her to look at him. “I thought you might.”

  More laughter spilled from her lips, and she reached up to circle her hands behind his neck. “We’re a pair, aren’t we?”

  “I guess we are.” He brushed her lips with his. “I do hope I didn’t rush things last night.”

  “Oh, Michael, no. You didn’t rush. I did. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

  “Ahh, Noelle, my sweet Christmas s—” He broke off. “Sorry. I’ll try not to call you that again.”

  “Don’t you dare, Michael. I love it. My reaction last night…well, it was just an old memory. It’ll fade away with every moment we spend together.”

  Michael’s heart blanched. He wanted Noelle to love him for the man he was today but not by forgetting all the beautiful memories they’d made before life destroyed their dreams.

  “What?” She took his face in her hands and tiptoed to peer into his eyes.

  “Nothing.” He drew her close to his side. He turned once more to the window, and then stiffened. “It’s snowing! Coming down hard.”

  She giggled. “Michael, you were staring out the window when I walked in. You didn’t notice?”

  “All I saw was your face and your smile.”

  “Well, I like the sound of that.” She kissed his chin. “It’s been at it for a while, and I probably would have been smarter to stay in town. According to the forecast on the way over, a blizzard is in the offing.” She smiled. “But I had to see you, to make sure we were OK.”

  Michael frowned. She couldn’t return to Hope Springs under these weather conditions. “When will it hit? The blizzard?”