"I'm not impressed," he murmured.
Mistletoe stood up. Her babies made soft mewing sounds, then settled back to sleep. After stretching, Mistletoe stepped out of the closet and wound her way around Jordan's legs. When he reached down to pet her, she hissed at him, then bumped her head against his hand as if asking to be scratched there.
"Make up your mind," he told her.
She ignored him and continued to growl and hiss between bouts of purring. Then she ate some food and drank a little water.
Jordan moved to the bed and stretched out on top of the blankets. Mistletoe followed, then climbed on his chest and stood there. They were practically nose to nose, and he could smell the cat food on her breath. She flattened her gray ears, then began to knead. Sharp claws dug in through the terry-cloth robe. He winced with each press of her paw.
She seemed to delight in causing him discomfort, because she kneaded deeper, then sank down on top of him and breathed in his face.
He reached up and scratched under her chin. Mistletoe arched her head. When he stopped, she licked his fingers, then nibbled as if warning him to continue or suffer the consequences. He continued.
As he stroked her soft fur, he found himself thinking about Holly and their night together.
She'd been a virgin. He'd known that fact; they'd even discussed it. But knowing it and actually being the first man to make love to her were two different things. He'd felt the tightness, the protective barrier that, once broken, could not be repaired. The act of making love with her had been different from making love with anyone else.
In a primitive male way, he felt a connection and sense of responsibility. She'd marked him with her innocence, and he'd claimed her with his seed. If he were a different kind of man, he would want to hold on to her forever.
If he were a different kind of man, she would be safe with him.
But he wasn't different. He was stuck in a world where he could not escape the truth. Because he respected her and cared about her, he would not try to destroy her by loving her. As he stroked Mistletoe and listened to her purring, he swore he would treat Holly right. He wouldn't betray her or let her down. Others had done that before him, but he was going to be different. He was going to give her the best gift of all. He wasn't going to hurt her. If the price of that was not loving her, then so be it.
* * *
Holly woke to the smell of coffee. She opened her eyes and saw sunlight streaming into her bedroom. Despite the familiar furniture, something was different. She blinked as she tried to figure it out. Then she remembered last night. In the same instant she realized she was naked beneath the covers and that Jordan was entering the room.
She stared at him and felt her heartbeat increase. His hair was tousled, his face unshaven. He wore a white terry-cloth robe loosely knotted around his waist. Bare legs led to bare feet. He was gorgeous and smiling at her.
"I brought you breakfast," he said, holding out a tray. "Are you hungry?"
"Starved." After pushing her hair out of her eyes, she started to sit up. The sheet chose not to cooperate, and there was a quick tug-of-war as she tried to get into a sitting position without flashing Jordan.
He set the tray over her lap, then leaned toward her. "You don't have to work so hard to cover up. I've seen it all, and it's lovely."
Before she could recover enough to speak, he settled on the bed next to her and poured them both a cup of coffee. There was also toast and fruit.
"I checked on Mistletoe," he said. "She ate breakfast, and the kittens seem fine. They don't have their eyes open, though."
"That takes a little while," Holly commented automatically, not able to believe they were practically naked, eating breakfast in bed after making love. As if this were normal. She wanted to shriek. It wasn't normal, at least not in her world. Normal was living alone and being lonely, not passion in front of a Christmas tree and a man who threatened to steal her heart.
"How do you feel?" he asked.
She took a quick sip of coffee and nearly burned her tongue. "Fine," she said, her voice a high-pitched squeak.
"No repercussions?"
"Like what?"
He smiled. "Are you sore?"
Sore? "From what?"
He reached toward her and pulled at the sheet until the top of her breast was exposed. Then he touched the curve. Nerve endings caught on fire and burned all the way down to her feminine center.
"Making love. Different muscles get used. You were very tight when I was inside you. Are you tender today?"
Oh, my. Heat flared on her cheeks. He wanted to talk about it? About doing that? About making love?
She swallowed, then set her coffee on the tray. "I feel fine."
"Let me know if that changes."
She wanted to ask what he would do about it if she was sore, but then she wasn't sure she wanted to know.
He leaned forward and kissed the top of her breast, then her neck, then the sensitive skin below her ear. "You're feeling a little awkward," he said, making the sentence a statement, not a question. "I'm going to leave you to shower and dress in private. But you owe me one."
"A shower? There are four more bathrooms in this house."
He stood up. "But you're going to be in this one."
Men and women showering together? Was that even legal? Her confusion must have shown on her face, because he was laughing as he left the room.
Holly moved the tray and got out of bed. Now that Jordan had mentioned it, she was sore. Her thigh muscles ached as if they'd been stretched a couple of inches too far, and the place between her legs was a little raw. She wanted a long, hot shower. Things would be clearer when she was done.
But as Holly wiped away the steam and stared at her reflection in the mirror, things weren't better. If anything, they were more confusing.
She tucked the towel around her body and wondered if making love had really changed her. This time yesterday she hadn't known about the intimacy that joined a man and a woman. While she didn't regret what she'd done, she was beginning to realize that there was a lot more to sex than just the act itself.
She reached for a wide-tooth comb and began drawing it through her wet hair.
"I'm all grown-up," she murmured. She had a business that was more successful than she had imagined, and she was taking care of herself. She was smart, capable and she'd finally joined the mainstream. She had a lover. All she needed was a beeper or a cellular phone.
Holly sank down on the edge of the tub and sighed. On the outside she might be just like everyone else, but on the inside she was different. She'd always been a little out of step. Having a lover wasn't her style. She could say and do all she wanted, but in her heart she was an old-fashioned woman.
She wanted to love the man she gave her body to, and Jordan didn't love her. Worse, he believed that love caused pain. In his mind it created more problems than it solved. So where did that leave her?
There was nothing to be solved right now, Holly decided. She finished with her hair, then dressed and headed downstairs. Jordan was in the living room, sitting on the sofa in front of the Christmas tree. The quilt was gone, as were the fire and the empty bottle of champagne. Even so, her gaze was drawn to the place where they had made love.
She remembered the beautiful lights on the tree and the scent of the fire. She remembered Jordan touching her with his hands and his mouth, loving her until the world disappeared and they were alone in the universe.
He stood up as she entered the room. He'd showered, too, and his dark hair was brushed away from his face. A worn sweatshirt hugged his shoulders, and faded jeans clung to his thighs with the familiarity of an old lover. She'd seen him dressed that way countless times before. It didn't matter. Once their gazes met, her heart rate increased and her legs started to tremble.
He stepped toward her and pulled her into his embrace. His arms were strong and sure. She felt comfortable next to him. As his mouth brushed hers, she parted for him. Her body began to heat in
anticipation.
He cupped her behind and pulled her hips toward him. Something hard pressed into her belly. Now she knew what his arousal meant. He wanted to make love, and she did, too.
She broke their kiss. "Jordan, I—"
He silenced her by placing a finger on her lips. "This is all going too fast for you."
She stared at him. "How did you know?"
He touched her face, then reached down and took her hand. "I can see it in your eyes. You're confused and afraid. Last night was great, but reality is difficult to deal with. You've got to be at the shop in—" he glanced at his watch "—an hour. You've got other things to do. I'm a complication you don't need."
Her eyes burned, and it took her a second to figure out she was fighting tears. "I'm sorry," she whispered.
He hugged her. "Don't cry, Holly. Please don't be upset. I understand. You need time to think about everything that happened."
"I know." She rested her forehead on his shoulder. "I'm not crying because I'm upset, I'm crying because you're being so nice."
"I thought being nice was a good thing."
"It is." She raised her head and smiled at him. "Thank you."
"You're welcome." His eyes darkened. "I do have one request."
"Which is?"
"Don't leave me until after the holidays."
She thought about what he was asking. The store was doing so well, she had the money to get another apartment. But the thought of leaving hadn't occurred to her.
"I'll stay," she said. "To be perfectly honest, the thought of leaving never crossed my mind."
"Good." He winked. "Let's try breakfast again. This time in the kitchen."
"Sounds great."
He headed that way. Holly started after him then stopped in her tracks. Why wasn't she thinking of leaving? There was no future for her here, and even if there was, she didn't want a future with Jordan or any man. She didn't trust people.
But she did trust Jordan. She cared about him and enjoyed being with him. She wasn't sure how or when it had happened, but she'd come to trust him … and care about him.
She wasn't sure when she'd started to trust him and let him inside. Maybe that first day when he'd gone back into her apartment and saved Mistletoe. Maybe the first time he'd kissed her. Jordan Haynes was everything she'd ever wanted in a man. How was she supposed to resist him?
She loved him. With all her heart.
She closed her eyes as emotions overwhelmed her. She loved Jordan. Loved him, loved a man who was terrified of love. She must never let him know. She would have to be strong. She could continue to be his friend, and he would never know the truth.
An odd combination of joy and sadness filled her. She was finally ready to trust someone enough to fall in love, and he wasn't going to want her. In his own way Jordan was letting her down just like everyone else, but that didn't make her love him less. She couldn't help her feelings. It wasn't fair, but she didn't want to take her heart back. Jordan would have it forever, whether he wanted it or not.
* * *
Chapter 15
« ^ »
Nine-year-old Mandy shrieked in delight when she unwrapped the huge box. The Victorian dollhouse had been built by hand from a kit, then painstakingly painted and decorated. Her big eyes got bigger, then filled with tears. She leapt to her feet, ran to the sofa where her parents sat and threw herself at Travis and Elizabeth.
Jordan watched his brother hug her close.
"I'm glad you like it," Travis said, his voice thick with emotion. "All your uncles worked on it with me."
Mandy sniffed, then faced the rest of the adults. "Thank you so much. It's the best dollhouse I've ever seen."
Holly shifted on the floor where she was sitting and glanced up at him. "When did you guys build it?" she asked.
"At the end of summer." He grinned, remembering the complicated directions and short tempers. "We used to build model airplanes together, but that was a long time ago."
She raised her eyebrows and smiled. "Did some of you forget how to play well with others?"
"I think so. But it was fun." He leaned toward her and lowered his voice. "With everyone having girls, we figured we'd better learn how to build dollhouses, or we were going to be in a lot of trouble."
She glanced around the room. Jordan followed her gaze. Most of the children had already gone outside to play with new toys, bikes and inline skates. Torn pieces of wrapping paper littered the floor. There were piles of bows, empty boxes and discarded directions everywhere he looked.
Did Holly see the mess, or did she see the happiness in the room? Jordan touched the top of her head, earning himself a quick smile. He knew what she saw. She had a gentle heart and a sweet spirit. She would see the good in the situation.
Travis carried the dollhouse up to the playroom. Mandy ran and got her cousin Nichole, who was her age, and both girls went upstairs with their new dolls. When Travis returned, he settled next to his wife and sighed.
"So what did I get for Christmas? I know I was good all year."
"How do you figure that?" Elizabeth asked.
He grinned. "You kept telling me."
She swatted his arm. Everyone laughed.
"I've been good, too," Kyle said. "So what has Santa brought me?"
"Wallpaper for the dining room," Sandy told him, then grinned when he groaned.
Jordan saw Holly smile at the conversation. Although she had been a little shy at first, she seemed to enjoy spending time with his family. He liked watching her interact with them. His brothers were protective and caring, and his sisters-in-law had claimed her as one of their own. He'd seen her whispering with the other women. They all had secrets, and he hoped she was comfortable enough to share hers. A part of him was curious as to what the females were always talking about, but then he figured he was probably better off not knowing.
Sandy said something, and Holly responded. As she spoke, she rested her head against his knee. He leaned back in the sofa and enjoyed her closeness.
He wanted her. Making love hadn't decreased his attraction. Instead, he could now picture her naked and beneath him. He knew what she felt like when he was inside her, and he wanted to be with her again. But he understood her caution. Relationships were new to her, and she didn't want to mess up.
Hell, he was hardly an expert at relationships, either, he reminded himself. He'd never had one that worked. In his heart he still believed that love was destructive. It would be safer for everyone if they just stayed friends. Friendship he understood and trusted.
The only problem was he didn't know if he and Holly were going to stay friends. She filled his life with joy. Even more, she filled the empty hole in his soul. He'd only known her a short time, yet he couldn't imagine his world without her. That would be trouble for both of them. He didn't want to hurt her; he didn't want to be hurt himself.
So where did that leave them? He had no answer to the question. He would simply have to take each day as it arrived and hope for the best. For today Holly was with him, and that was enough.
"Oh, my. These can't be for me," Holly said, drawing him back into the conversation.
He glanced up and saw Elizabeth and Sandy passing out presents. There were several boxes stacked in front of Holly.
She looked up at him. "Jordan?"
He shrugged. "Don't ask me. I'm always the last to know."
She counted. "Fourteen boxes? This is crazy."
Elizabeth paused by her and touched her hand. "It's not crazy. They're gifts. We all wanted to get you something."
"But I can't accept. It's too much."
"You don't even know what it is yet," Craig said, and pointed. "At least open a couple so we can all see." He glanced at his wife. "I bet you already know what it is."
"Of course," Jill said, then rested her hand on her belly. "The women always know everything."
"Don't you hate that?" Craig said.
"Yeah," Travis grumbled. "We need to think up some secrets to k
eep from them."
Elizabeth kissed him briefly on the mouth. "It would never happen, but it's sweet of you to want to try." She returned her attention to Holly. "Please open one of the boxes. If you really don't want the gift, you can tell us then."
Jordan understood Holly's confusion. She hadn't known everyone was going to get her a gift. He hadn't known, either, or he would have warned her. She'd baked cookies and passed them out, but he knew she wouldn't think that was equitable.
He leaned forward and put his hand on her shoulder. "They're trying to be nice. It means they like you."
She nodded, then reached for one of the packages. When it was unwrapped, she opened the plain brown box and removed a white china cup and saucer. The old-fashioned design reminded him of some of the dishes he'd seen in catalogs she'd brought home from the store.
Sandy pointed. "We know you lost everything when your apartment was wrecked," she said. "So we got together and bought you new china. Each box is a place setting, and the other two are the completer set and some serving pieces. Please say you like them."
"They're beautiful," Holly said, sounding a little shell-shocked. She held the cup up to him.
He took it and touched the soft, cool piece. He could see this cup in Holly's capable hands. His mind filled with the image of her in bed, dressed in satin and lace, sipping her morning coffee. Even more terrifying, he could see himself there, too.
Longing twisted his gut until he couldn't think about anything else. He wanted her. He needed her. If only there was a safe way to keep her in his life.
"Just be polite and say thank you," he told her. "You'll make my family happy, and you'll get some plates out of it, too. Not a bad deal."
Elizabeth drew her eyebrows together. "We were trying to help. I hope you understand."
Holly nodded. "You're all so wonderful. Thank you. I love my gift." She leaned over and hugged Elizabeth.
"I think it's great," Kyle said, "but twelve place settings seems like a lot for one person. Of course, if she marries—"
He stopped talking suddenly as Sandy jabbed him in the ribs.
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