Red Letter Nights

by Alison Kent; Karen Anders; Jeanie London

  “I do want to touch you. I think you know how much.” Placing a finger beneath her chin, he willed her to see how deeply he meant what he said, how seriously he took them.

  “I want to make up for lost time,” he admitted. “I want to know all about the beautiful woman you’ve grown up to be. I want to know if you’re wearing your hair down because I wrote that I liked it. I want to know if you’re wearing the lingerie I sent beneath your pretty dress.”

  He lifted her chin higher and leaned forward to whisper in her ear. “I want to know how much you want me.”

  She trembled, a full-bodied motion that belied her bold look. “Yes, I’m wearing my hair down for you, Max, but I won’t tell you what’s under my dress. That’s a surprise.”

  Stepping out of his reach with a jaunty toss of her head, she left him staring after her with his heart pounding too hard. “We’ll talk if that’s what you want. May I get you something to drink first?”

  “I put a bottle of wine in your fridge.”

  “Thanks. I haven’t made it into the kitchen yet. I was too busy dressing to entice you into undressing me.”

  She took off toward the kitchen, her backside swaying under all that creamy silk. He forced his feet into motion to follow, to grab wineglasses from the china cabinet.

  She met him in the dining room, and he opened the bottle and poured, then cornered her against the table to press a glass into her hand. “A toast, Josette.”

  “To Christmas?”

  “To us.” Tapping his glass to hers, he met her gaze over the rim. “To finding things where we didn’t expect them.”

  “I’m glad you found me, Max.”

  “Me, too.”

  Bringing the glass to her lips, she sipped, a move he followed with his gaze. The possibilities of the night ahead turned each sip into a visual feast of moist lips, darting tongues and the promise of sex. The moment was exciting and tentative. This was all so new between them.

  “What made you perform for me that first night?”

  She eyed him over her glass. “I saw you across the alley and was just annoyed enough to want a reaction.”

  “Annoyed? Why?”

  “Because you were unfriendly. I talked to you at Nana’s service then you left town without saying goodbye and came back without saying hello. You’ve been holed up inside your place night and day. Madame Alain has been the only person you’ve chatted with.”

  And not because he’d been in the chatting mood. But to explain why he’d holed up inside his place would mean explaining how far he’d traveled from Court du Chaud in the years since he’d left and how he’d been reevaluating every choice he’d made. Now wasn’t the time for confessions, not when he was trying to figure out what she wanted.

  “I’m sorry, Josie. I—”

  Lifting her fingers to his mouth, she stopped him with a touch, pressed until he could taste her warm skin on a breath. “No apology necessary. We’ve moved past reality, remember? We’re all about fantasy now.”

  He caught her wrist and watched, satisfied, as her eyes widened in surprise. Then he lifted her hand so he could trail an openmouthed kiss down her fingers, along her palm.

  Josie sighed.

  “Is that all that you want from me? A fantasy?”

  “I want you to touch me. That’s what you said you wanted, too. Or would you rather talk?” She turned her face enough to brush those velvet lips against his fingers. “What else is there for us, Max? You’re only home for a visit. I think this is the perfect opportunity to explore how we feel.”

  “What about Lucas?”

  “My brother doesn’t belong in bed with us.”

  Max chuckled softly. “Agreed, but he’s between us in or out of bed. I’d rather deal with him up front.”

  “Whatever happened between you and Lucas is over. I’m not interested in reality when we can enjoy a fantasy.”

  “You want to keep our involvement a secret?”

  “If you haven’t noticed, I’m the only one left in New Orleans. I don’t usually call my family to announce every man I get involved with.” She waved a hand dismissively. “And what would be the point? Madame Alain told me you were leaving right after Christmas. I respect the kind of life you lead now, Max. I know you date high-powered corporate women who aren’t looking for commitments. I don’t have any problem with that. Tonight can be our denouement.”

  “You read about my dates in the business section?”

  “No, the society column. They cover all those corporate fund-raisers. I want you to know that I can play by the rules. Let’s just enjoy our night. No Lucas, no parents, no strings. When you’re ready to leave town, I’ll blow you a kiss and say au revoir. We’ll both have enjoyed our time together and have some really great memories.”

  It took a moment for her proposal to register. Josie thought she understood the way he operated.

  The kicker…she did.

  At least the way he’d operated until he’d returned home to start taking stock of his life.

  “We’re both consenting adults who know the rules.” She extended her hand. “So what do you say? Want to shake and seal the deal?”

  Notre nuit pour la fantaisie.

  Looked as though Josie wasn’t interested in reality at all, which meant Max now had a problem.

  There was no place for temporary in his seduction. He wanted Josie more than he’d ever wanted anyone before and temporary wouldn’t work when her family and the past still lay between them. Not to mention his promise to Lucas to come clean.

  So Max didn’t shake to conclude their transaction, but drew her toward him until she pressed those sleek curves close and was forced to tip her head back to meet his gaze.

  “Actually, Josie, I’d rather kiss you.”

  He’d have to convince her she wanted more than one night, and he had only one night to convince her.

  3

  MAX’S HUNGRY EXPRESSION might have been straight from Josie’s imagination, but when he lowered his face to hers, he was no longer a fantasy. Her mouth parted instinctively, and, in a whole-bodied motion, she pressed herself against him, wrapped her arms around his neck, felt every inch of his hard body against hers.

  His hands were suddenly on her, too, fingers threading through her hair, anchoring her head so he could slant his mouth across hers to deepen their kiss.

  Their tongues tangled. Their breaths collided. But it was the strength of his hunger that stole her breath.

  This man was passion…want. His kiss wasn’t all the steamy fun fantasy she’d expected but an intense hunger that sexy performances and provocative gift-giving had honed to a fine edge.

  He kissed her as if he’d waited forever for the privilege, as if he was determined to overwhelm her and shut out everything in her world except for him.

  And he did.

  Josie could still envision the expression on his handsome face, even though her eyes had long since closed. She tasted his warm mouth, stole his breath and offered hers in return.

  This was the Max of her fantasies, the object of her desires for as far back as she could remember. A little older and a lot sexier.

  Threading her fingers into his hair, she anchored him close and hung on, her own need an ache inside, fueling a desire that had waited to be satisfied for so long.

  She drank in the taste of his mouth against hers, the way their tongues tangled together hungrily, each sexy stroke stirring a reply deep inside. She could feel him everywhere as he skimmed his hands down the curve of her neck, molded her shoulders, moved down her back with complete freedom.

  Arching against him, she invited him to explore to his heart’s content, thrilled to finally get on with their night and didn’t become aware of the knocking until he groaned, a low rumble that tasted of needy male and sounded like pure frustration.

  “Dinner,” he whispered against her mouth when the knocking grew more insistent.

  His mouth lingered on hers until she gathered her wits enough to let
him loose. Then he stepped away and all she could do was stare back as his warm gaze poured over her, a look of possessive male.

  She watched him head to the door, taking in his broad shoulders, trim waist and very nice butt. He looked so different from the man who’d returned home not so long ago, and Josie liked the changes. His clean business haircut had gone the way of his custom-tailored suits, and sometime during the weeks between the services and packing up Nana’s things, his hair had filled in enough to wave at his nape.

  The man she’d been reading about had been on the fast track to a heart attack. Making time to relax and have some fun had done him good, she decided.

  A night of fantasy would do him one better.

  When two waiters from Commodore Pete’s seafood restaurant marched into her house, Josie retreated into the living room. She turned on a sultry jazz version of Christmas tunes and dimmed all the lights until only the tree and the winter village lit the shadows with jeweled brilliance.

  Pleased by the effect, she half sat on the edge of the sofa and listened to Max giving directions to the waiters, who proceeded to create a candlelit fantasy dinner for two in her dining room.

  He hadn’t missed a trick to make their night together special, and that fluttery place deep inside thrilled with excitement for the night ahead. She smiled when the waiters finally headed past her with polite nods.

  Max saw them out and returned. “Hungry?”

  “Starved. But I had no idea Commodore Pete delivered. It usually takes weeks to get a reservation at his place.”

  “Does it? Pete’s an old friend from school.”

  She nodded, liking that he’d made contact with someone else from his past, another connection to home after such a long time away. Nana would have been pleased, too.

  “So I chose well?” He extended his hand, and she slipped her fingers into his, let him lead her to the table.

  “Absolutely. With school and work, I never know what I’m doing from one minute to the next, let alone long enough ahead to book a reservation at Commodore Pete’s. The only time I go is when my boss Courtney takes me out for my annual birthday dinner. I think she’s a friend of his, too.”

  “She obviously knows how much you love seafood.”

  “You remembered?”

  He nodded, and the knowing look in his gaze made the years between the past and the present melt like sugar on a hot beignet. They’d known each other so well, and that knowledge translated into a comfort level that let them segue easily into provocative performances and sexy gifts.

  Now that knowledge would span the alley.

  They sat down to a meal that typified all the yummy reasons why Commodore Pete had a backlist for tables, and chatted about routine things while they ate. Her family. His work. New York where he based his firm. New Orleans and how much it had changed in the past ten years.

  He was the Max she remembered. He smiled easily and made her laugh with his dry observations about life. Compared to her control-freak brother, he’d always been the more laid-back of the pair, the one who could go with the flow.

  Talking with him brought back so many memories, reminded her of why she’d always been so enamored. He’d put his charm to good use in his fast-track social life according to the newspaper, and he put that charm to work now.

  After the baked oysters “la Louisiane” and crab chops “à la nouvelle,” Josie was practically bursting to get on with their night and claim another kiss.

  They’d caught up so the past was officially over and all they had to think about was now.

  “I hope you saved some room for dessert.” She finally slipped away from the table and headed to the Christmas tree where she’d left a package.

  Max sat back in his chair and eyed her curiously.

  “A Christmas gift.” She presented him with a string-tied box.

  “Thank you.”

  Kneeling before him, Josie spread out her skirt and trailed her gaze up the well-toned terrain of his body. He untied the string, lifted the box top and peered in at the neatly layered sugar cookies inside.

  “Nana always baked you those big sugar cookies and wrote love notes in icing for every holiday,” she said softly. “I didn’t want this to be your first Christmas without them.”

  He arched an eyebrow. “Love notes? She wrote messages on them.”

  “Pshaw. If they weren’t love notes, you wouldn’t have been so stingy with them.”

  “I shared.”

  “Only the broken ones.”

  He laughed, and she felt a thrill skitter through her when he caressed her with his deep gaze.

  “I recognize this box. These are the same cookies my grandmother had been sending me lately,” he said. “I guessed she wasn’t baking them herself, but I didn’t want to ask.”

  Josie couldn’t miss the way he softened around the edges and slipped her hand over his. For quite some time, she’d been the one placing the orders at Café Eros and mailing the packages at Nana’s request, ever since getting around had become too difficult and tiring for Nana.

  “Wait a second….” Max poked around inside. “These are not the same cookies. My grandmother never sent me any cookie that said undress me. This one says—Undress For Me.”

  When he laughed, Josie dared a peek inside the box to find a cookie bearing two simple numbers in scrolling red and green icing that read the same whether she viewed it right side up or upside down….

  69.

  “My pleasure.” He captured her gaze with a look that was all naughty male.

  Her belly swooped wildly in reply, and she couldn’t decide if she should kiss or kill Chloe. She’d placed an order for romantic and tasteful cookies, not X-rated.

  But X-rated did seem to be moving things along. And when Josie got down to it, who was she to argue with a woman who’d made a career of whipping up sexy recipes for her clients?

  “Since you’ve given me my gift, Josette, I’m going to enjoy it.” He held up a cookie that read: Dance With Me. “Not to be confused with ‘Dance For Me,’ which I was hoping you’d do for me tonight, too. That’s my fantasy.”

  Her breath fluttered crazily inside, a reaction to the promise in his words and the sound of her full name in that hint-of-the-Deep-South drawl. “You’ve been busy. Between spending your nights staring into my bedroom window and writing sexy letters and shopping for all my lovely gifts, when did you have time to fantasize?”

  Sliding his chair back, he stood and drew her to her feet. “You’d be surprised at how much time I’ve found to fantasize about you.”

  And as he led her out of the dining room, there was something so earnest about him that Josie didn’t doubt his claim for a second. She was his fantasy and found irony tasted as sweet as Chloe’s cookies.

  He slipped his arms around her and fitted her against him more perfectly than imagination could have ever allowed, his cheek against her temple, fingers twined, thighs brushing. His groin grazed her as they moved, a suggestive heat that proved he was affected by their closeness, too.

  She exhaled a satisfied sigh and pressed her face to his shoulder. With each breath, she enjoyed his scent, the crisp smell of his shirt, the warm male ambrosia of the skin below.

  Her body rode softly against his as they moved to the sultry music, his touch guiding her in their dance.

  “Tell me about your fascination with Christmas.” He brushed her hair with a kiss and the moment took on a dreamlike quality with the sound of his throaty voice and the multihued Christmas lights twinkling. “I’ve always known how much you loved it, but I can’t remember ever hearing why.”

  “No special reason, really. The season of hope and promise and tradition. I just love the magic of it all.”

  “So you believe in magic?”

  “Of course, don’t you?” How could she answer otherwise while standing in his arms?

  “Once.”

  That one word summed up all his years away from Court du Chaud. Suddenly, the life he’d been li
ving didn’t seem as fast or glamorous as the business section made it out to be. Josie was struck again by that same sense of loneliness she’d felt in him that first night he’d shown up in Nana’s bedroom, and she wanted to reassure him that magic did exist. She could prove it—she’d been living out her fantasy for weeks now with him across the alley.

  She wanted him to know that he still had someone who cared, but Josie wouldn’t admit to her girlhood crush. That was a secret from her past, and she’d insisted on keeping the past out of their fantasy. Tonight was their night alone. No family, nothing but the two of them. “Maybe you’ve just forgotten, Max. You’ve been gone a long time.”

  “You think the magic has to do with being here.”

  “Court du Chaud is magic in a lot of ways, you know that. Not only do we have history, voodoo curses and ghosts, but being surrounded by people who love you is magical, too. You work so much that you haven’t been home in too long.”

  “I thought you didn’t believe everything you read in the paper.”

  “I believe what I see.” She resisted the urge to glance up, didn’t want him to glimpse any disapproval for the choices he’d made. “If it’s any consolation, I’ve been accused of the same thing and couldn’t deny it. Losing Nana and seeing you again has had me looking at my own life. That’s one of the reasons I decided to dance for you that night. I knew you weren’t home for long, so I didn’t want to let the opportunity pass.”

  “And you were annoyed with me.”

  She smiled into his shirt. “And that.”

  “So what does that make me, Josette? A Christmas gift? Or a New Year’s resolution? Are you turning over a new leaf to spend more time having fun?”

  A new leaf? Chloe thought she needed to turn over a new one, but Josie hadn’t thought much about her personal life until Max had come home. She hadn’t had time.

  Her career with social services was a passion, and that passion crept into her free time, too. She hoped to step into her boss’s position as the president of the local Big Buddies chapter once Courtney’s term ended. Right now she was the president of Krewe du Chaud and the homeowner’s association, too. As soon as the new year began, school would start, and she’d wrap up her graduate program to start working on her doctorate.