'Tis the Season to Be Tempted

by Aimee Carson

  Blinking back the surge of gratitude, she held his sexy gaze.

  “We might have made it out if we’d left right away,” he went on. “Unfortunately, we’re stuck here until the weather improves.”

  She blew out a quiet breath. Hadn’t she humiliated herself enough? Was she to endure more?

  “It’s only an hour commute,” she said. “I’ll take my chances on the road.”

  Not that she was in any hurry to face her family.

  “No, you won’t,” he said. “While you were sleeping, I called Dan. He said the roads were impassable. And I promised your brother I wouldn’t let you do anything reckless.” He paused, as if waiting for her to object—to what, she wasn’t sure. To his unilateral decision? His use of the word reckless? Evie worked hard to keep the embarrassment from showing on her face. “As soon as I heard the news,” he said, “I got us the last hotel room within walking distance.”

  If he’d been anyone else Evie would’ve suspected a lead-up to a seduction. With Wes, she was as safe as they came.

  And after a brief moment of reflection, she felt a piercing pain of disappointment.

  Wes stood, towering over her—she’d forgotten how tall he was. “Tomorrow is going to be a busy day at work,” he said. “And now that you’re awake, I’d really like to get to the room.”

  The potentially suggestive words skittered across her senses like a caress. Ignoring the surprising pulse of awareness, she studied him closely. For the first time she noted the fatigue in his eyes. Obviously his New Year’s Eve celebration had ended late. If he hadn’t felt the need to stand guard over her, he would be sleeping in his own bed about now.

  Guilt hit hard. He wouldn’t let her risk braving the storm to get home, and the longer she resisted the longer he had to wait to catch some sleep. With a sigh, she stood and tossed her cup in the trash, glad the coffee and rest had cured most of her hangover.

  “Okay, let’s go,” she said. “If I attempted the commute, you’d feel obligated to follow, just to make sure I arrived safely.”

  And the thought briefly warmed her heart.

  “True,” he said slowly. He tipped his head. “But that wouldn’t have stopped you before.”

  Those gorgeous hazel eyes studied her for moment, as if seeing her in a new light. She was certainly seeing him differently, with his ruffled hair and fine, powerful physique. But, after all these years, it appeared their first encounter hadn’t left him with the best of impressions. Normally her fear of flying would have been easier to handle. Unfortunately, after her recent run of bad luck, a plane crash had seemed a very real possibility.

  “Don’t be too impressed,” she said, biting back a cynical smile. “After my recent string of catastrophes, I figured we both would have wound up dead in a snow-filled ditch somewhere.”

  “Then I guess we’ll have to be extra careful on our walk to the hotel.” The answering crinkle of humor bracketing his mouth added to his appeal, leaving her longing for the possibility their destination brought.

  Great.

  A cold walk outside was definitely in order.

  …

  Carrying both suitcases was difficult as Wes trudged through the bitter wind and blowing snow, the lamp-lit sidewalk leading to the hotel almost knee-deep in the cold white stuff. His dress shoes were hardly appropriate, his feet freezing, but the knee-high black boots Evie was wearing were worse. Her leather jacket was ridiculously inadequate, as were the knit gloves with the cut-out fingers. And her knit hat was more for show than warmth. Twice she’d slipped and fallen in the snow. Twice Wes had helped her to her feet and offered her his coat, only to be refused.

  Her stubborn insistence was no surprise, but the fact that she hadn’t fought him about heading out onto the road was. Time and experience had changed her. The old Evie would have stormed off, fueled by his declaration that he wasn’t about to let her go. Because the surest method to get her to do something had been to tell her she couldn’t.

  But the new Evie had simply studied him, a newfound wisdom in her gaze that was both unexpected and disturbing. And, like the hint of vulnerability, added to the complexity of her allure.

  A gust of icy wind stung his face, but Wes wasn’t cold enough. Because the fire that the sexy little vixen had started on the plane had persisted—her sloppy yet seductive come-ons totally adorable.

  And incredibly erotic.

  Wes tamped down the memories, glad his frigid feet were available to cool the heated blood in his veins. Any hotter and he could melt a path between here and the hotel.

  “What did you say to Dan when you talked to him?” she said.

  “That I’d run into you on the plane,” he said. The worried look on her face was entertaining, and he couldn’t resist letting a slight smile slip. “I didn’t share your attempt to seduce me.”

  She stopped on the sidewalk and narrowed her gaze at him. “Did I really mention kitchen utensils?”

  Wes halted beside her. The skeptical look on her face bunched her brow in a way that was too charming for comfort. No, the culinary tools had been the result of his own overly imaginative libido. But since she’d subjected him to the torture of offering him something he couldn’t have, it had only seemed fair to pay her back.

  And he wasn’t ready to let her off the hook so easily, not when he was still revved up from her intoxicated seduction attempts.

  He continued up the sidewalk. “Are you really wearing Hello Kitty underwear?” He brushed off the crackling sizzle the question created in his body.

  She huffed out a breath and trudged on beside him, clearly declaring the topic an impasse. After a few more moments filled with the sound of whipping wind, the sting of pelting snowflakes, and a pregnant silence, she said, “What else did you tell Dan?”

  His heart pinched a touch, and he gave up the teasing tone. “I didn’t mention the part where you passed out.”

  “Thank you,” she said, and then she winced. “He would have told Mom and Dad. And my return home is going to be difficult enough.”

  He tried for an encouraging tone. “They’ll simply be happy to see you.”

  But Wes knew her father well enough to know there would be rough times ahead. Through the years, Wes had witnessed enough of the man’s tendency to fire disapproving words at his daughter. In truth, Wes had always admired the way she’d stood up for herself, refusing to change in the face of overwhelming pressure on all fronts. At home. At the exclusive private school. By the very town she’d been raised in. If she’d lived somewhere else, with a different family, he doubted she would have been quite so obstinate.

  He glanced at her set face and let out a silent scoff. Or maybe she would have.

  “Happy to see me?” Evie’s brow furrowed with pure skepticism. “I doubt that.”

  “They love you,” he said.

  “Not as much as they love you.”

  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-stocke
d 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.