Once Upon a Christmas (19 page)

“It’s December in Arizona,” he reminded her. “We
live in the desert, remember?”

“It’s still too cold for swimming.”

He shrugged. “The water’s probably heated.”

“The hotel pool is for hotel guests only. They’re very
strict about that here,” Holly argued. “They have security, you know.
Besides, we’d have to go home first and get swimsuits.”

“Who said anything about swimsuits?”

She put both hands on her hips. “My dress is new, and
your tux is a rental. You’ll forfeit your deposit if you take a dip.”

Sam grabbed his tie and yanked it free. “Who said
anything about wearing clothes?”

Five minutes later, Sam was as naked as the day he was born,
chest-deep in the warm water of the hotel pool. Feeling carefree, he ducked his
head underwater and came up shaking drops of it from his hair.

“Come on in. The water’s fine,” he called to
Holly.

She shook her head and held her ground at the edge of the
pool. He couldn’t read her expression, but the moonlight caught every sexy
curve beneath her white dress, teasing him with her nearness. So close and yet
so far.

“Don’t make me come over there and get you,” he
warned with a grin.

She didn’t budge. Sam swam closer.

“You wouldn’t dare,” Holly said when he was
halfway there.

“I wouldn’t?”

He stood, making rivulets of water run from his body into
the pool. Holly developed a sudden, apparently overwhelming interest in the
lush bougainvilleas that secluded the pool area from the rest of the hotel. She
crossed her arms over her chest, staring fixedly into the distance. On a lounge
chair just behind her, his dress shoes, tuxedo and shirt lay where he’d dropped
them—now folded neatly, thanks to Holly.

“Nobody’s around.” Sam started toward her through
the shallow end, goose bumps prickling his skin. It was a lot warmer in the
water than out of it. “Come on. It’s fun.”

“I never said I’d go skinny-dipping with you,”
Holly reminded him, pushing her bare toes against the pool deck. She’d taken
off her shoes while his back was turned, and stowed her strappy sandals on the
lounge chair beside his clothes.

She chewed her lip, looking vaguely guilty. “I’m not…
Well, you might as well know the truth. I’m not really the spontaneous type. It
was all an act.”

“You’re kidding.”

“It’s true. I can’t help it.”

Sam came closer. She backed up.

“I even planned the whole spontaneity thing,” she
confessed.

“If you’re trying to scare me off, it won’t work. I’m
already hooked.” He smiled. “I’m at your mercy.”

Her eyebrows lifted. Holly did look at him then, but only at
his face. She studiously avoided the bare-naked rest of him. “You’re at my
mercy?”

“Absolutely.”

He reached the steps, almost close enough to grab her.
Almost close enough to drip pool water on her bare feet. Sam was laying himself
bare for her, naked in every way. The idea of that was enough to send a sane
man screaming to the hills, but he wanted Holly to know the man who loved her.
If that made him crazy, then Sam didn’t care.

“Okay, then.” She narrowed her eyes at him in a
contemplative, amused look. “If you’re really at my mercy, prove it.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Stand back. I’m afraid you’re going to toss me in the
water.”

He laughed, moving closer. “Very perceptive. The idea
had crossed my mind.”

“Well?”

“Anything but that.” He scooped her in his arms
and carried her toward the pool.

“Let me go!”

“If you don’t quit kicking and wriggling, I just might
drop you.” Sam stopped at the pool’s edge. He grinned at the woman in his
arms. “Well?”

“Okay, okay,” Holly relented. “Just let me
down first.”

“No way. You’ll chicken out.”

“I won’t. I promise. Look! I’ll prove it.” Giving
him an unreadable glance, she unwound her scarf from her throat. The sheer
fabric fluttered as she tossed it to the lounge chair. “See? I’m all ready
to go.”

He decided to risk trusting her. “That makes two of us.”

Taut with anticipation, Sam lowered her to the steps. At the
first lap of water over her toes Holly shivered, but she was as good as her
word. Biting her lip, she held his biceps for balance and waded farther. Her
white dress dampened by inches, clinging to her thighs and hips, highlighting
each subtle curve and intriguing hollow. Too quickly, pool water enveloped her
from the waist down.

Surprise lit her features. “It
is
warm!”

To his astonishment, she dived underwater, dress and all.

In the pool lights he glimpsed her movements, fluid and
graceful as she swam. Her red hair was a dark cloud around her face; her dress
a whispery white trail. Moments later, she’d made it to the opposite end of the
pool.

Naturally enough, Sam realized, she was making him chase her
for every inch of progress.

He did, swimming after her with powerful strokes. Catching
Holly with both hands around her waist, he drew them both to the surface. She
laughed, her skin sparkling with dampness. Her dress molded wetly to her
body—to his hands—as though it had been designed exactly for this. Her face
shone with elation, framed by her chlorine-scented, slicked-back hair.

“I didn’t think you’d do it,” Sam said, panting a
little.

“I’m braver than you think,” she informed him, wriggling
slightly as she clutched his bare shoulders. “I’ve been doing all sorts of
risky things lately.”

“Oh, yeah?”

A grin. “Yeah.”

“Risk this.”
Digging one hand in her hair,
Sam tipped her head back and kissed her, hard.

She welcomed him with a ferocity that matched his own. Damn,
but he wanted her. He dragged Holly closer, loving the feel of her tight
against him, the feel of her breasts pressed against his bare chest.

They drifted in the water, mouths still exploring, and all
he wanted was to never stop touching her. With a groan he kissed her
neck—small, deliberate bites, then tongue-sweet kisses along the base of her
throat. Holly moaned, the low, husky sounds she made as potent as wine. They
sent desire shivering through him. She felt it, too, felt and breathed desire
with every sigh, savored it with every bite of her fingernails against his
back.

“Oh, Sam…”

It was too much and not enough, all at once. He cupped her
breasts, making the water eddy between them, and through her soaked dress her
nipples rose to meet his thumbs. He stroked slowly, slower, making the good
feelings last. Holly made him feel something beyond simple desire, beyond
anything he’d experienced before. He wanted to strip away her dress, wanted to
take her there in the water, on a lounge chair, on the pool deck. He wanted
somebody to shut off the lights that were blinding him.

Sam squinted past Holly. At the pool’s edge, an
industrial-strength flashlight was trained directly on them. Beyond the
brightness, he saw the silhouetted figure of a uniformed, pot-bellied man.

“Break it up, folks,” the man drawled. “Or
get a room, at least.” He chuckled. “This here’s a private pool, and
it’s closed for the night.”

The hotel security guard—Sam realized that had to be who it
was, judging by the uniform—motioned with his flashlight.

“I’d hate to have to arrest you both for indecent
exposure, too, along with the trespassing charge,” he said without a trace
of regret. “So you’d best put your clothes on, sonny.”

“I can’t believe he actually had us arrested.”

Shaking her head, Holly gripped the cold bars of the holding
cell issued to her and Sam at the county jail. She peered down the dank
corridor leading to the front of the jail. No action there. Except for the
snoring of the drunk who’d been asleep in the adjacent cell when they arrived,
everything was quiet.

Behind her, one of the gray metal cots squeaked as Sam sat
on it. He rested his forearms on his thighs and loosely clasped his hands
together, looking almost as relaxed as he had in the middle of the pool at the Cheshire hotel. He was dressed now, except for his tuxedo jacket and tie. They lay where he’d
tossed them at the foot of the cot’s mattress.

“I feel like a criminal,” Holly complained,
brushing vainly at her wrinkled, still-damp dress. Its matching scarf hung
limply around her neck. She ran her tongue over her teeth, wishing fervently
for a toothbrush.

She headed for the cot—barefoot, because they’d kept her
high-heels for some inexplicable reason—and stopped in front of Sam. There was
no way she’d actually sit on the mattress. Who knew what kind of people had
used that thing?

“But then I guess I have a criminal record now, don’t
I?” Holly went on. “I’ve been arrested and booked into jail.”

Booked into jail. “Booked into” sounded wrong, as
if she’d made reservations at an exclusive resort. Sure—
Casa de la Criminal
.

None of this seemed to be making a dent with Sam. Holly
waved her arm wildly at him.

“Into jail!” she wailed, feeling slightly
hysterical. “Do you know I’ve never even been
inside
a place like
this before, much less been thrown into one?” She paced across the gritty
concrete floor. “Here I am, in jail,” she muttered, halfway to
herself. “The slammer, the joint, the hoosegow. Dear Lord, what am I
doing
here?”

Sam gazed calmly back at her. “It’s only a trespassing
charge. The hotel decided to get tough with us, thanks to the vandalism
problems they’ve had lately.”

She frowned, remembering the lecture they’d endured in the
office of the hotel manager while waiting for the Saguaro Vista police to
arrive. As if
she,
a perfectly upstanding citizen, were likely to
vandalize lounge chairs, dump paint in the water, or paint graffiti on the pool
deck. The very idea rankled.

“So it’s a night in jail, no sleep, and a fine,”
Sam continued. “It’s no big deal.”

Holly gaped at him. “What are you, a career criminal?”

“I’ve had my share of scrapes with the law.”

“What?”

This was what she got for being spontaneous. She’d become
involved with a wanted man. A felon. An ex-con, maybe. It sounded like a bad
late-night “B” movie.
Babes Behind Bars, Part Two—Sam Returns.
Holly grabbed the cell bars again and gazed toward the door leading to freedom.
She might have known changing her life would lead to disaster.

“It wasn’t anything serious,” Sam said. “Some
stupid high-school pranks, a couple of drunk-and-disorderly charges. I’ve
changed my ways since then.”

He tried a grin. Holly wasn’t having it. Sure he was
charming—the dangerous ones always were, weren’t they?

“I’ll just bet you’ve changed your ways! Changed them
right into jail again, you mean. Why didn’t you tell me you’d been arrested
before?”

“It never came up.” He shrugged. “This will
blow over in no time, you’ll see. Don’t worry. Everything will be fine.”

“Fine? No, it won’t be fine.”

She felt like shrieking at him, but she didn’t. She was
afraid they’d put her and Sam in separate cells if they argued too loudly. The
only thing worse than being locked up in a jail cell would be being locked up
in a jail cell without Sam.

She was still mad, though. Mad and scared. Holly jabbed her
forefinger at his chest.

“This
is what comes of being irresponsible,”
she told him. “This is what comes of crazy stunts like skinny-dipping in a
private pool at midnight.
This”
—she paused for emphasis—“is
what happens when you don’t plan ahead.”

Her point made, Holly stomped to the other end of their
cell. She crossed her arms over her chest, not looking at him. Wait until the
people at her office heard about this. She’d probably be fired on the spot.
After all her hard work, too.

It just wasn’t fair. Why, oh why, had she let Sam talk her
into going swimming with him?

“You can’t plan your whole life.” He crossed the
cell, then stopped behind her. His hands lowered to her shoulders, warm against
her bare skin. “You can’t plan who you fall in love with.” He kissed
her shoulder. “Life happens to you. You have to take the good with the
bad.”

Holly whirled to face him. “Oh, no, I don’t. I’m not
standing by waiting for life to take its chances with me. Only a fool does
that. Everything I’ve gotten, I’ve gotten because I worked my tail off for it.
I’ve done a damned good job of it, too!”

Her eyes filled with tears. Why did that always have to
happen when she got mad? Angrily, she blinked them away.

“So don’t you tell me to just take what life hands me,”
she cried. “Because I won’t do it.”

“So now I’m a fool, then?” Sam stepped back. “Now
I’m the stupid one, because I’m not a neurotic, compulsive Felix Unger wannabe
with a retirement plan and a set of matching towels?”

She gasped. “I should never have told you about that!”

“About which, the retirement plan or the towels?”

“Neither!”

“You tell ‘em, sister!” the drunk from the next
cell shouted. He’d awakened during their argument and now had his grizzled old
face pushed halfway through the bars to watch the final round. He waved his
fist in encouragement, then winked at Holly.

“Give ‘em what for, honey,” he slurred.

Sam’s eyes narrowed. His face darkened. Holly had never seen
him mad before—it was an education. Their whole relationship was an education
in mistakes
not
to repeat again.

Sam nodded toward the drunk. “Friend of yours?”

Holly glared at him.

“No, wait. You wouldn’t have anything to do with
someone who wasn’t
perfect,
would you?” Sam asked. “You can’t
be bothered with somebody who’s made a few mistakes.”

“Somebody such as…an ex-felon like yourself?”
she inquired with a lift of her eyebrows. “I know better now.”

Hurting too much to look at him any longer, she turned away.
Sam didn’t try to stop her. Stony silence descended upon their cell, only to be
broken by the scrape of a key in the door at the end of the corridor. They both
looked expectantly toward it.