by Flame Arden
Eve's outfit suited to perfection the role she'd cast for herself, innocent maiden in distress. What role did she have in mind for him? Spider Man to the rescue? He preferred Tom Cruise. Or Mel. Nick smoothed back his hair. The sudden surge of blood in his veins had him wondering if he should limit his intake of alcohol for a while.
How would Gibson respond to Eve?
No. This scenario was too tame for Mel. No escaped criminals in sight intent on revenge, no bloody Highlanders on the horizon. Just a sensual seductress pretending her car had slid in some ditch. No need to call in the heavy hitters. He could handle the lady's distress.
But how? Nick crossed his arms and rocked back on his heels, leaning against the door jamb to think this through.
Play it by ear? In the last drama class he'd attended, he'd become skilled at improvisation. A few of those skills were still available to him. Might as well participate in her game. But only for a little while.
"Tell you what," he murmured in his most seductive voice. "Why don't I move this chair closer to the fire? Give you time to warm your toes" — and other parts — "while I fix us a drink. Then we'll talk about pushing your car out of that ditch. You certain we can manage it without help?"
Eve eyed him warily. Then with a slow smile and a twinkle in her eyes, she crossed her arms beneath her breasts and rocked back on her booted heels, unaware she was imitating his exact stance. One hip jutted out a little, the tips of her plump breasts even more. Nick considered taking her in his arms that instant and carrying her off to bed.
Later. All in good time.
"I can't do it alone," she said, shattering his fantasy, "but I believe the two of us can."
Yeah. Right.
Not exactly the way he'd planned to spend the evening but then, he'd heard mud wrestling turned some men on.
Taking Eve's hand in his, he helped her into the chair he'd pulled up to the fire. Her smooth skin felt like ice. "The two of us," he murmured, suddenly taking a liking to the game.
Eve tugged her hand from his grasp, then held her hands, palms out, toward the warmth.
Her delicate fingers tapered to smooth ovals, their painted tips the same sexy shade the woman in his last wet dream wore.
This one had neatly swept her hair up on top of her head, but he wanted those long tresses loose. Brushing her shoulders. Brushing him. And soon.
Count on it. Her hair would be down before much more time had passed. He couldn't wait to thread his fingers through that thick mass and listen to Eve moan.
"I'll heat some brandy," he said, his voice tight. "That should warm you."
* * * * *
Eve allowed her curious gaze to follow Nick's departure.
Nice buns. Sinful in silk.
A pity to force her thoughtful host to get dressed again and go out into the snow.
He looked back at her and smiled.
Polite. Elegant. And far too smooth. She knew the type. Too much like Jeffrey. And look where that affair had led.
Eve turned her attention to her surroundings instead.
With her buff host no longer holding court by the fire, the room seemed bigger. This structure was much larger than the one next door, more like a home than a weekend retreat.
The furnishings suited Nick. Sturdy leather and oak, each piece well built. Straight lines. A little more masculine than she'd prefer. Like Nick.
He swaggered back through the door, two partially filled brandy snifters in his hands. Far too gorgeous for her to relax in his company. Her childhood dream of marrying a doctor or a fireman epitomized in this living, breathing man crossing the room with a self-assured, killer smile.
Get real. The man's just being nice.
He struck a match to a votive candle. Slid one snifter of golden liquid into the angled holder above the flame. "This won't take but a moment. Just long enough for you to ponder how smooth this will taste going down," he said, his voice more than likely as mellow as the brandy heating in that glass.
"I've never tasted warmed brandy." The oppressive silence of the cabin and the smiling man mesmerized her.
"You're in for a treat." After a moment, Nick blew out the flame and removed the glass.
As he walked quickly toward her, Eve's heart leaped. The tailored shoulders of his elegant robe rippled as he moved. Abs to die for, from the looks of his trim waist. She had a weakness for muscles. Especially there.
He stopped in front of her. She felt as if her heart had stopped beating, too. Was this how Ingrid Bergman felt in Casablanca when she looked into Rick's eyes?
"Drink up." With another killer smile Nick wrapped her fingers around the warm glass.
He had the hands of an artist: long, slim fingers that made her wonder what he did for a living.
The heat from his fingers, not the glass, began to curl her toes. "Aren't you—"
"You first. I'll watch." His soft words wrapped around her snugly, just as his fingers had moments before, warming places she hadn't realized were cold.
Still mesmerized, Eve lifted the snifter to her lips, sipped, then swallowed.
The fires of Hell flamed in her stomach.
* * * * *
Eve sputtered. Coughed. Nick watched her topaz eyes brim, then overflow.
This scene was not part of an act. Didn't the sophisticated-appearing call girl know to sip good brandy?
Eve set the glass down on the table, then lifted her hand to brush a tear from her eye.
"Let me do that," Nick whispered, touched. Kneeling beside her, he wiped the tiny drop of moisture from her cheek with his thumb. Unblinking, Eve stared at him as if mesmerized as he sucked her tear into his mouth.
Salty-sweet. He wasn't a man usually moved by tears.
Eve shivered.
"Still cold?" He reached for her chin and tilted back her head.
Eyes rounded, she stared back at him. Then, her lips curved, forming a trembling smile. "No, I'm f-fine."
He fitted his lips to hers.
Better than fine. Eve's tasted like apricots warmed in the sun. Full-bodied and tempting. A feast just waiting for him to devour.
A sudden, strong rush of desire heated Nick's blood and a soft sigh parted her lips, causing Croupier to throb.
All in good time, my man. You’ll have to wait.
Nick deepened the kiss.
Eve played her part well. He'd give her that. And a sizeable tip when her time with him came to an end. By then, she would have earned her steep fee. Maybe even more.
Her tentative fingers traced the line of his jaw, then slid down his arm in a teasing caress.
Nick's pulse leaped. "Better?" Casually, he rested a hand on her thigh. "Sip a little slower this time."
She nodded, then raised her glass, her gaze not leaving his. He'd never been so drawn to a woman, so totally enthralled by one's charm.
She swallowed. Once again tears formed in her eyes. Blinking, she leaned back to swallow again, and crossed her legs.
Nick enjoyed a brief glimpse of well-formed knees, but that was enough to send his blood on a merry chase through his veins. He couldn't remember being more turned on in his life.
Chapter Three
Eve lowered her glass. "What?"
"What, what?" Nick sat back on his heels, the air around him and Eve electrically charged.
"You were staring at me."
"You're lovely. But, then, I guess you're told that all the time."
Nick's praise made Eve think of Jeffrey.
How different he was from Nick. Jeffrey demanded she take her place at his side for all kinds of charity and civic events, but only commented on her appearance when he didn't approve of her dress. He escorted her proudly, but reserved his compliments for the women with whom they conversed.
A trophy wife? Was that what he'd had in mind? She'd had the thought more than once and hadn't liked the idea at all.
Which was worse? Having a man attracted to her because of her money or her face?
She wanted nei
ther one. Had never considered marrying Jeffrey, or any other man. Every man she'd ever gone out with had the same and singular goal, to get her into bed.
When she resisted, her date would then insist she invest all her available funds in some get-rich-quick scheme of his that promised to double her money while greatly benefiting him. She'd listened to far too many of those schemes, and finally wised up. True, that took a while, but she’d thought she knew the score.
Until she'd met Jeffrey. When he showed no apparent interest in having sex with her, or in her money, she'd believed she'd found her life's mate. Even convinced herself she was falling in love with him.
Until she'd seen the light. The morning of a big charity auction she woke up with a swollen jaw. Jeffrey had again reacted like a spoiled child. Not one word of sympathy for her. He'd shouted things like: "You should have slept on an ice pack," and "How can I show my face in public without a date?" convincing Eve he was using her.
And now, here Nick was, out of the blue, telling her she was lovely and making her heart swell. He wasn't at all like her ex.
Eve gave Nick the full benefit of her appreciative smile. "A size fourteen can't hear that too often."
For now, she'd focus all her attention on him. Jeffrey was finally out of her life. And for some reason she didn't yet understand, Nick's admiring gaze was doing strange things to her stomach, things not attributable to the contents of the snifter in her hand. "I thought you were having a brandy, too."
Nick glanced across the room, torn, it appeared. She was, too, for she realized she'd much rather he stay exactly where he knelt. She liked him near and let the scenario play out in her head.
What if this good-looking man kissed her again?
Let him. She'd welcome a little excitement in her life.
And Nick was definitely exciting. More than likely, he could hear the way he made her heart beat.
Yes, she would welcome a tender kiss. And if that kiss led to more...
No. She needed this man's help. Not this man's body. Intimacy would only complicate things. And yet...
She couldn't help but wonder. Nick seemed agreeable to most anything and she began building fantasies in her mind. Forbidden hopes. Sensual dreams. Erotic wishes. Farfetched things she knew would never come true. But for tonight, on this night of fantasy for toddlers around the world, she wanted to believe that with this charismatic man her dreams might come true.
Nick patted her hand. "You're right. I do want that brandy. Don't go anywhere. I'll be right back."
He stood, strode to the bar and warmed his drink while watching her with a heated expression that undressed her, one intimate layer at a time, setting her flesh on fire.
Yes, yes. I want that, too.
"Would you like some music?" Even coming from across the room, his voice was seductively low.
Candles. Brandy. Music? Had he stepped right out of her dreams?
"Sure." For now, she wouldn't allow herself to think beyond his pleased grin.
"Carols?" He opened the doors of an entertainment center along the wall.
"I don't think so. Have any blues?"
He tossed a glance over his shoulder, his arched brow reminding her of Matthew McConaughey.
Her pulse became thready and she found it difficult to breath. Nick nodded, breaking the spell.
Moments later, Sinatra was crooning "I've Got the Right to Sing the Blues" from speakers scattered around the room. Nick blew out the flame beneath his snifter and strode back to her side.
"Feeling down?" he correctly surmised, and trailed his fingertips across the back of her hand.
"Lonely, anyway. Christmas has a way of creeping up on me, blind siding me when I least expect it."
"Like now?"
"Yeah, now," she whispered, at a loss to understand her sudden change of mood.
"I know the feeling. Makes me want to pull the covers over my head until mid-January, at least."
Eve laughed without mirth. "You, too? I thought I was the only one on the Strip not in a Christmas mood."
To her surprise, Nick set his glass on an end table and tugged her to her feet. Before she knew what was happening, she was in his arms, moving to Sinatra's beat.
A smooth dancer, surprisingly light on his feet for such a big, tall man, he moved her about the room with slow steps that made her blood race.
On their next turn around the room, he looked down at her with a knowing smile, then pulled her close. The room began to spin.
Her chin didn't quite come up to his collarbone so she rested her cheek against the satiny fabric of his robe, not needing to see where they danced. She trusted Nick. Implicitly, she realized.
Strange. Under normal circumstances, she would never have gone so easily into the arms of a man she'd only just met.
Chalk it up to the storm. The wind howling outside blowing snow into deep banks. The cozy warmth of the fire. The even warmer look in Nick's shimmering blue eyes.
She felt safe with him and let her eyes drift shut. Let the strains of Nick's soft music and his manly scent act as balm for her troubled thoughts.
As the music washed over her, he hummed softly in her ear and Eve's feeling of loneliness dissipated. She melted into his arms, doubtful there was a woman anywhere who could continue feeling lonely wrapped in Nick's strong embrace.
As the CD switched to a soulful Billie Holiday rendition of the lead song from "Porgy and Bess," Eve glanced up at Nick with a smile.
"Better?" he asked as she once again pressed her head against his chest, reveling in the sensation of his lips brushing the top of her head in a gentle kiss.
For a big man, he had all the moves down pat. A romantic, from the looks of this room, lit only by candlelight and the glowing embers of the fire.
A romantic spending Christmas Eve alone?
Why?
She would have thought any woman in Las Vegas would have jumped at the chance to go out with Nick. Handsome Nick.
Thoughtful Nick.
Perhaps he's a loner.
No, that didn't seem likely. Not with his smooth moves.
Although it was obvious she'd interrupted a quiet evening at home, Eve couldn't find it in her to regret her current predicament. She could think of no place she'd rather be than right here, in Nick St. Clair's arms. Her very own Christmas St. Nick.
* * * * *
Eve grinned.
Nick felt the tickle of her smile against his chest and picked up their pace. Dancing in double time to the slow, plaintive strains, he cupped Eve's ample bottom and pulled her closer still.
Size fourteen, eh? Priscilla's girls usually looked more like models, but he had no objection to the additional flesh cushioning this one's bones. Her soft thighs would cradle his hips, give Croupier a warm place to lay his head.
As if on cue, Croupier pressed against Eve's belly, his need no longer secret. Nick had no plans to allow his desire to go unnoticed.
Eve snuggled closer. Good. Her need was as great as his.
Later.
The best sex is worth waiting for.
The music segued into another tune with a different beat. Nick stilled his feet, but shifted his weight in time with the rhythm as he tilted Eve's chin up so he could look into her eyes and perhaps read her thoughts. Her vulnerable expression made his blood surge as she stared up at him.
She'd need time to explore these unexpected feelings.
Nick didn't allow her time to think. He skimmed his fingers along her cheekbone, then cradled her head in his palm. "I think it's time I kiss you. Really kiss you," he murmured, lowering his head.
Eve's eyes fluttered shut and her warm breath feathered over his lips. So trusting. Fierce longing twisted his mid-section and refused to unwind, although he gave it a beat or two.
Eve's innocent response had turned his simple seduction into something far different. Something shattering. Something sweet.
His bold lips molded to her softer ones with more feeling than intended, revealing
far too much of his need, but Nick couldn't help himself. Her innocence off-balanced him.
He backed off on the kiss and inhaled quickly, savoring the floral scent of Eve's elusive perfume and her lingering taste.
Inch by devastating inch, her hands slowly slid under his robe and up Nick's bare chest, burning a path up his sensitive flesh, then around his neck where she laced her fingertips. Her movements were tentative, but she still managed to make his knees weak.
He shook his head. Why? Why Eve? Why now?
Puzzled, he glanced down at her. Lush, swollen lips filtered the warm breath fanning his chin. He'd kissed his share of sexy lips. Equally kiss-swollen lips. But this mouth, Eve's mouth, excited him beyond all reason. Why?
Before he could lower his lips to hers and find out, her clasped hands exerted gentle pressure on the back of his neck and pulled his mouth back down to hers.
A woman with a sexy mouth, a woman who reads minds. Dangerous combination.
Their lips met, his possessive, her promising, and his body strongly reacted to her kiss. He felt almost drunk in the awareness that Eve's needs matched his desire. His hands skidded over the slope of her hips to cup the roundness of her butt. He pulled her firmly up against him, then shifted his weight, shifting so that her hips cradled Croupier.
* * * * *
Back away, now, or you won't be able to. Eve smoothed her hands down Nick's back instead.
No one need ever know, and she needed this.
Gut-punched by a fresh wave of desire, she licked his lips. Then hers.
The sensual action rocked Eve to her toes. A second wave of desire rocked her as well. She wrapped the fingers of one hand around Nick's upper arm and held on, relying on his strength to keep her upright. She was not disappointed. Muscles rippled beneath that hand, while beneath her other, she felt the shuddering of his heart.
He seemed as moved as Eve. The knowledge restored her own strength. That and his taste on her lips.
Heat pooled in Eve's belly, but she refused to back off. Any misgivings she'd had about sleeping with Nick vanished, evaporated by the delicious warmth spreading to the apex of her thighs and igniting every nerve ending she possessed.
