Baby It's Cold Outside

by Heidi Rice

  An annoying flare of guilt made his words harder than he’d intended. “That’s not true.”

  “Oh please, my parents love me because they’re supposed to, but they adore you,” she said with a wry crinkle of her brow. “You’re so…so…” She looked him up and down and sent him a faint frown of disgust that held no heart. “Perfect.”

  Perfect? How could a man whose life had been reduced to spending New Year’s Eve with a client be considered perfect? “How do you figure that?”

  “With your fabulously successful investment firm”—she rolled her eyes—“your perfect looks, and your perkily perfect, Stepford-esque girlfriends.” She glanced at him curiously. “Whatever happened to that girl you dated in college?”

  “We got married.”

  Evie’s gasp was loud enough to be heard over the whipping wind, and she came to a halt, closing her eyes. “Oh, God,” she croaked, sounding miserable and looking entirely too cute. “I threw myself at a married man?”

  Technically, she’d thrown herself at a man who was rapidly approaching the definition of a pathetic workaholic.

  “Don’t worry,” he finally said. A muscle in his cheek twitched as he went on. “Sara and I got divorced two years ago.”

  Her eyes flew open, her warm gaze meeting his. “Oh.”

  She looked as if she didn’t know whether to be happily relieved or appropriately sad.

  He relaxed a fraction. “But, cheer up,” he said with a slight shrug, pushing aside the unhappy memories. “You’ll be glad to learn the divorce went perfectly, too.”

  Her smile was infectious—her eyes lit, and he fought the answering smile. Until the shared amusement, the need to connect won out. A tiny grin crept up his face, kicking Evie’s up a notch as well.

  Which only made her more beautiful.

  Time stretched until awareness encroached, flickering through her chocolate-colored eyes and bringing a tension best ignored. Exactly what he’d wanted to avoid. He cleared his throat and, without a word, restarted their trek through the drift-covered walk.

  The howling gusts increased, dropping the wind chill to almost unbearable. The light from the streetlamp lit up the snow, the swirling white flecks cutting through the dark winter night. Ten minutes later they were halfway there when Wes noticed that her lips looked an alarming shade of blue, her face as pale as when the flight had taken off. He wasn’t sure, but he thought he saw her shiver.

  He set their suitcases down. “Take my coat.”

  “No,” she said. Huge snowflakes stuck to her hair. “It wouldn’t be fair if I had two and you had none.”

  “Evie, you look as if you’re one step away from hypothermia.” Concern made his tone sharper than he’d planned.

  But despite her misery, the stubborn tilt to her chin remained fixed. “Dude, I’ve been taking care of myself for a very long time. I’m fine.”

  And then her boot slipped again. But this time, she landed butt-first in a pile of snow. When she didn’t pop right back up, he knew things were worse than he’d thought. After he’d convinced her not to attempt the drive, the stubborn little rebel was still going to wind up dead in a snow-filled ditch.

  “Jesus, Evie,” he said, his voice rough as he stepped forward. He pulled her up and wrapped her arms around him until she was flush against his chest, enveloping her inside his coat, and a whole host of sensations hit him at once.

  Desire. Worry. Relief.

  Desire.

  He closed his eyes, his thoughts churning as madly as the whirling snowflakes. His intent had been to simply absorb the chill in her body, to prevent her from dying of exposure in the mere fifty feet left between them and the hotel. But an unexpected, fierce surge of protectiveness overwhelmed him in ways he’d never imagined possible.

  Because, suddenly, he was struck by how tiny she was. Her head barely came to his shoulder, her body slight, the curves of her breasts and hips just full enough to entice. Maybe it was her smart mouth or her kick-ass attitude that had given him the impression she was bigger than she was. Larger than life. A hurricane force that was too powerful to be stopped. But she had a remarkable fragility about her that jump-started a tremendous need to shield her, not only from the elements, but from the harsh realities of the world as well.

  And, as odd as it was to be holding Evie, Wes was shocked by just how right she felt in his arms.

  Because in the time that it had taken for all those thoughts to file through his brain, Evie had relaxed and snuggled deeper, her soft body now molded against his. Wes’s body reacted predictably, the sensual awareness alive and well and now throbbing loudly in his every cell. He shifted his hips a bit, hiding his reaction. After spending his teenage years wondering how she would feel, the reality was better than the adolescent fantasies. The sweet scent of her hair, the rounded breasts plastered against his chest. The tempting hips pressed against his. The fiery spirit he’d secretly admired held captive, for a moment, firmly in his arms.

  The burn that had started on the plane now reached an alarming intensity.

  “Wes,” she said, her voice muffled against his chest.

  He kept his eyes closed, ignoring the whipping wind and fighting a need that promised to undo all of his good intentions. “What?”

  He hoped the croaking sound of his voice would be written off to the freezing temperature.

  The pause that followed was long and, when Evie finally spoke, her voice was hesitant, less self-assured than usual. “When you offered me your coat, you should have told me you came with it,” she said, her voice distant, almost…dreamy. “You smell really good.”

  Which meant she either liked being in his embrace, or the hypothermia was affecting her mental faculties. Wes hoped to hell it was the former.

  Though, as choices went, he was pretty much screwed either way.

  His body stretched tight; the tension in his groin grew thick. If the sober Evie stopped looking at him as the irritating bossy guy from her past, and started looking at him as if they could well and truly spend the night together in bed, he was a dead man.

  Chapter Three

  On the way up the hotel elevator, Evie elected to remain silent as she stood next to Wes. She was cold, wet, shivering. And more confused than ever before. As soon as they’d reached the luxurious lobby, Wes had draped his exquisite Armani winter coat over her shoulders, the hem reaching her calves. As he’d checked in, she’d stood by, silent, grateful for the warmth.

  But the coat wasn’t nearly as enticing without Wes in it.

  She’d never imagined she could feel so protected, much less that she’d like the feeling. And earlier, as she’d held him close and enjoyed the hard chest beneath her cheek, his woodsy, clean scent, she’d finally realized it was more than just attraction that she’d felt. Lust was understandable. After a year without sex—not to mention the presence of a drop-dead gorgeous man—lust was to be expected.

  But the feeling of…of…coming home?

  As much as she lectured herself that the notion was stupid, the sensation was strong, still lingering, fresh in her mind. Made extra ridiculous by the fact that her home had never felt quite that welcoming. Or accepting.

  And never in her life had she wanted a man more than she wanted Wes right now.

  She dug her nails into her palms, wishing she knew exactly how he felt about her. Was she simply the annoying girl from his past, or did he see beyond all that to the woman she’d become? And if not, was there any hope she could change his mind?

  Evie’s agitation grew as the faint ping of the elevator called out the passage of each floor, and she studied Wes from the corner of her eye. The snow had left them both damp, his wet lashes spiked into a sensual hotness that should have been illegal. Wes’s long-sleeved shirt clung to the broad shoulders and chest that looked strong enough to carry the weight of the world. The winter wind had whipped up his hair, leaving it mussed, and brought a ruddy color to his cheeks. Or maybe the flush was in response to holding her?

>   The question continued to burn in her brain as she followed Wes out of the elevator and down the hall to the penthouse, admiring the way his pants hugged a taut backside. Ever since they’d arrived at the hotel, it was almost as if he was being careful not to touch her again. But maybe that was simply because she wanted him to.

  When he slid the card through the lock and stepped back to let her inside, she was disappointed by the closed look on his face. She entered the posh sitting room, tossing his coat over the back of a chair and shedding her leather jacket. Her T-shirt hadn’t been spared when she’d plunged into the snowbank. The white cloth clung to her breasts, the wet, sheer fabric highlighting the delicate lace of her bra.

  Wes closed the door and cleared his throat, shifting his gaze to some unknown distance. “You still look cold.”

  He moved deeper into the room, past the couch and well-stocked bar complete with a liquor cart. Away from her. His long strides were now infused with a tension that made his movements stiff. He placed his carry-on on the far desk, the set of his lips grim, and two observations hit her at once. It was the demeanor he’d often adopted around her, but now she was experienced enough to recognize the meaning beneath.

  Wes was nervous. And the only reason Wes would be nervous was because he wanted her as much as she wanted him. Which was a thrilling discovery.

  Except the look on his face and the way he was avoiding her gaze hardly came across as a man anticipating a night of sex.

  “You should go take a hot shower and warm up,” he said, his expression impassive.

  Evie let out a silent sigh. Damn his overdeveloped sense of responsibility. Damn his penchant for always doing the right thing. She stared at him a moment more, and finally came to the inevitable conclusion. If he really wanted her the way she thought he did, there was only one option available.

  She was going to have to seduce Wes Campbell.

  …

  Evie’s mysterious smile just before her departure for the bathroom stayed with Wes, rooting him firmly in the middle of the room. He stared at the closed door and listened to her bustle around. The turn of the shower handle. The sound of water hitting marble. The thump of wet jeans hitting the floor…

  The knowledge that Evie was a mere twenty feet from him, naked, primed his body with potential energy straining to be released. He debated changing into warm-up pants and a T-shirt, longing to shed his damp clothes. But in a weird way the casual attire would make him less capable of dealing with the delicious hellion. Because there was a danger that they would get too comfortable.

  He must have stood there a while fantasizing about the various ways they could get comfortable together, because the next thing he knew the bathroom door opened.

  Towel wrapped around her waist and bare legs, T-shirt covering her breasts, Evie emerged. Her hair curled from the steam, her face freshly scrubbed, the thick, black eyeliner gone. Her wide, luminous brown eyes and clear skin had a youthfully innocent glow.

  But her gaze looked anything but innocent.

  “You haven’t moved,” she said.

  “I’m tired.”

  Which he only wished were true.

  He was very much awake.

  “You know what I think?” she said as she leaned, catlike, in the doorway.

  The tension in his muscles ratcheted up a notch, because he was absolutely sure that he didn’t want to know. So he remained silent as he fought for the standard bland expression tinged with a touch of exasperated patience. The expression he’d always been careful to maintain around Evie.

  “I think you want me,” she said.

  A muscle in his eyelid twitched. The edgy feeling grew, but he met her knowing gaze with a determined one of his own. “I’m not going to sleep with you, Evie.”

  She pushed away from the door, slowly heading in his direction, sending his heart rate higher. Wes took a deep breath, willing himself to be strong.

  “Why not?” she said softly.

  Wes frowned. “You’re vulnerable right now. And you know it. You’re on the rebound from a relationship.”

  She advanced across the room with a languid stride that was killing him. “It’s been a year since I last had sex.”

  Wes nearly groaned. There were some things he really didn’t need to hear.

  The dewy, freshly scrubbed beauty of her face was tempting. Determined not to touch her, he took a step back, intent on keeping her at a distance.

  She came closer, looking at him with big doe eyes. “So why not you?”

  “Lots of reasons,” he said in his best matter-of-fact voice. Although his body longed to live out those fantasies of his youth, he backed farther away, refusing to let her near.

  Unfortunately, she kept pace with him, thwarting his attempts. “Name one.”

  “I can name twenty.”

  She lifted a stud-pierced eyebrow with the knowledge of a woman who knows she has a man by the libido.

  “You hate the corporate types,” he said.

  “I’m willing to put my political beliefs aside.”

  He backed a step farther, but the luscious woman kept coming. “Your New Year’s resolution involved swearing off men.”

  “That was twenty-four hours ago.”

  He struggled to focus. “Dan asked me to look after you.”

  At the mention of her brother her steps faltered and a flicker of emotion crossed her face. Fleeting, but strong enough to suss out the worry, the anxiety, and the woman who was desperate for approval. The realization slammed into him, putting her high school years into perspective. Evie Lee Burling had refused to compromise her beliefs, but that hadn’t stopped her from longing to be accepted.

  “And I’m fairly certain that looking after you didn’t include us sleeping together,” he went on drily.

  She blinked, and her hesitation disappeared. “Dan knows I’m a big girl.”

  Wes edged back, getting closer to the bar and the end of the room. The situation now critical, he scowled. “I won’t be seduced by you, Evie.”

  “You know the saying,” she said simply. “Where there’s a will, there’s a way.”

  The scoff that burst from his mouth was harsh, because the platitude was garbage. All the will in the world didn’t matter. If it did, as a kid Wes could have saved his family from the painful indignity of his father’s embezzlement scandal. And he certainly would have spared himself the ridicule of his classmates that followed. Wes couldn’t betray the only friend who’d steadfastly stood by his side.

  Loyalty was important.

  “I’ve heard the platitude,” he said. “But I don’t believe sheer will alone overcomes all obstacles.”

  But, for the first time, he hoped to hell it was true. Because the only thing that was keeping him from taking this sassy woman was his will. Wes tried to suppress the memory of a tipsy Evie, her body boneless against his. The clumsy come-on had been adorable, her beautiful face flushed from the alcohol and a genuine longing. But the woman who stood before him now was stone-cold sober, with a determined look in her eye. And an unrelenting desire.

  Evie adopted a falsely innocent look. “Apparently I mentioned kitchen utensils during my drunken stupor.”

  She passed the liquor cart—her face an incredible mix of sweet seduction, determination, and the tiniest hint of nerves—and picked up the ice tongs.

  He was totally screwed.

  His hips hit the marble counter on the bar behind him, halting his attempts at keeping her at a safe distance. Wes thought his heart would pound its way out of his chest.

  “I think this qualifies,” she said smoothly as she held up her tool of choice.

  And what the hell would she do with it?

  Body screaming to find out, he ignored the response and made the only argument that had a hope of swaying Evie. “Dan would skin me alive for taking advantage of you.”

  She tipped up her chin. “He thinks I’m a reckless little girl who doesn’t know her own mind.” She held up the tongs with a plea
sed light in her eyes as she stepped close enough for him to smell the citrus soap. “But I do, you know.”

  His brain was having trouble functioning. “Know what?”

  “Know my own mind,” she said calmly. “Like the fact that I want to make love to you tonight.”

  The word came out a heavy groan. “Evie—”

  “Listen,” she said as she met his gaze, as if taking her measure of the man. “I’ll make a deal with you.” She sounded remarkably matter-of-fact. “If I can get your clothes off, using nothing but the limited kitchen utensils in this hotel room, you’ll spend the night making love to me.”

  Stunned, Wes couldn’t move as he looked into the dark chocolate eyes that were making promises he shouldn’t want her to keep.

  And the idea was absurd.

  “That’s not possible,” he said, amazed he was able to sound logical.

  She looked up at him, wide-eyed. And if he’d been smart, he would have feared the overly innocent expression that looked so out of place on Evie Lee. Her scent, her beautiful, defiant face, and the gentle curves of her body called to him.

  A muscle in his jaw ticked, and he clenched his teeth.

  He needed her to step back. He needed her to remove herself from his presence.

  Because with Evie’s arrival back in his life, he was rapidly realizing how bland his world was. And if he started to dwell on just how tedious his life had become, who knew what he would do?

  “I’ll make you a promise,” she said. “If I’m unsuccessful at getting you naked with the kitchen utensils alone…”

  He ignored the heated blood coursing through his veins at the thought.

  She lifted a brow and went on. “I’ll let you keep my Hello Kitty underwear as a reminder of what you missed.”

  Wes should say no. But, damn it, he’d dreamed of her enough that, when she failed, he wanted something to remember this day by.

  So instead, he said, “I need to work tomorrow. Which means when you lose, you also have to leave me alone and let me get some sleep.”

  “Deal,” she said.

  Her quick agreement should have been the second sign that he was in trouble. But there was no way in hell a woman could get his clothes off with ice tongs.