Red Hot Christmas (14 page)

Gabby froze as the deep voice sent shivers up her spine.

“Or maybe you’d prefer a soy hot chocolate after all that cheese.”

Gabby turned, pulling her robe closer around her. Nicolas leant against a wall, arms crossed across his chest, head to one side, a picture of a man at ease. But faced with him standing there in his chosen sleeping attire, Gabby felt anything but at ease.
 

Don’t look down, don’t look down.
Gabby’s eyes betrayed her instruction and she scanned him from mussed bed-hair head, to tanned naked toe. In just a pair of black cotton boxers, his bare biceps taut and his stomach a not quite firm six pack given that he sat behind a desk most of the day, Nicolas Morganti could have sprung from a dream.
 

You’ve seen it all before. No big deal.
But the pause his sudden appearance gave her heart belied reasoning. Seeing Nicolas Morganti barely dressed was never a non-event and standing in her PJs, knowing that she was sleeping in the room next to him with no possibility of escape, was something Gabby wasn’t ready to deal with right at that moment.

“I’m sorry. Did I give you a fright? You’ve gone quite pale.”

Pull it together.
“No, I’m fine.” She paused, trying to channel her inner calm. “I didn’t mean to wake you. I guess I didn’t eat much at dinner. I’m a bit distracted at the moment, what with the grotto opening this weekend. Don’t want to let the team down.”
You idiot. You sound like a hapless cheerleader.

“I was already awake. Things on my mind too. Everything okay? Other than being hungry?”

“Yes. Yes, of course. Your place is amazing,” she gushed.
 
Again with the cheerleader bit. Act normal Ms. Philips.

“Shall I make us that hot chocolate then?” He moved towards the stove but as Gabby shuffled to get out of the way she ended up pressed in-between him and the oven. His hands reached behind her and she inhaled his personal scent. Warm citrus, soap, the hint of something musky.
Oh, man.
 

“I can think of another way to help you sleep,” he whispered in her ear and the words prickled her skin into goose bumps.
 

Leaning back against the stove top Gabby put her hands on his chest to ward him off. Big mistake
.
She might as well have put her hands on the range behind her and turned it up full. His skin was hot, not just warm, sizzling, as if it was him that had been soaking in a hot tub for the best part of the last hour. The heat pulsed through her hands, radiating down her forearms to her elbows and as it coursed through her body she took in a long steadying breath. She was a professional woman, a mother, the manager of a large department. She could handle this. Couldn’t she?

Taking her hands off his pecks Gabby inhaled, trying to suck in as much of her body as she could so she didn’t have to touch him again. The movement undid the tie on her gown and it fell open, revealing her pink flannel PJs, the words, ‘Take me I’m yours’, emblazed across the front.

“I was thinking that it might be more of a mutual thing. But I can take you if you like?”

Gabby blushed. She’d chosen these PJ’s because they covered every single bit of her in thick flannel and made her feel about as sexy as a wet towel. She hadn’t even thought about the writing etched across the front.

“I take it by your silence you’re not adverse to the idea. And seeing as we’re here...” Nicolas bent his head and brought his lips tantalizingly close to hers.
 

Naïve? Hopeful? How about plain stupid?
All of those, but she couldn’t help herself and
nudged at his lips with her. He was gentle, softer than she expected and the tenderness of the gesture made her try and ignore the warning bells in her head.

Taking his time, apparently luxuriating in tasting and taunting her mouth, Nicolas pushed his hands under her robe and drew her to him. Even through the thick flannel and his cotton boxers she could feel that his kisses belied the need that was charging though him. He was hard. Ready.

“What about Fraser?”

He pulled back and seared her with a look that would have befitted a Norse storm god. “Does he usually wake up?”

She shook her head.
 

“Well then. He interrupted us last time.” He gave her a wicked grin. “Nowhere to run to this time.”

 
“Exactly.” She pushed against his chest again. “I can’t afford for you to decide this isn’t working out. We really don’t have anywhere to go.”

“Who said anything about it not working out? If I remember correctly, this is the part we were really good at.”

His mouth swooped over hers and this time it was anything but gentle. Releasing the little moan trapped at the back of her throat, Gabby wanted to let everything go, to fall into the kiss. To fall into the man.
It feels so perfect. We fit.
He was right when he said they were good together sexually. There had been no one that made her lose it like this. No one that even came close. And on the night when Fraser was conceived… “Fraser might wake up tonight though. First night in a strange place. You know…”

“Wouldn’t want him to see you in a compromised position.” Nicolas growled then scooped her up in one swift movement and carried her down the hall and into his bedroom, kicking the door which shut with a silent swoosh.

Woah. Gabby caught a brief glimpse of a turquoise sofa and sleek gold fittings before she was deposited on a giant white bed. Unlike the flimsy draped version in her room, this one was low to the floor, a modern spin on a traditional Japanese futon. But before she noticed anything else her attention was stolen as Nicolas kneeled above her and began undoing the buttons of her PJs.
 

She was greedy for him, all of him. Ignoring the voice and clanging warning bells in her head that warned of impending doom, Gabby pulled at the waist band of his boxers, trying to tug them off and drag him closer at the same time.

“That’s more like it,” he said.
 
With the last button undone he exposed her chest and ran his tongue along her collarbone and up the side of her neck so she arched under him. Looking her dead in the eye he said, “The room is soundproofed. Don’t hold back.”

His gaze was so hot, so male, so proprietary, Gabby felt a surge of emotion leap to her throat. She didn’t want to hold back. She didn’t want to hold
anything
back from him. “Nicolas,” she began but he hushed her with a kiss that sent all thought scrambling from her mind.

Depositing her PJs in a pile on the floor Nicolas gazed down at her. “This week’s getting better and better.” Dipping his head, he took her whole small breast in his mouth and the contact sent fire down her spine. There really was nothing to stop them this time and the look on Nicolas’s face said he’d destroy anything or anyone that tried.
 

She ran her hands down his back, raking him with her nails as she moved beneath him, so hot, so ready. He shuddered in response and bit her sharply on the ear lobe. Oh, man but he did things to her that surely weren’t legal.
 

His head moved down her body, his tongue leaving a trail of heat as it licked and loved it way to the top of her thighs.
 

“No. I want all of you this time. I’m ready. Now. Please.”

He didn’t wait for another invitation and hauled her down the bed. “All of me you shall have.” Grabbing a condom from the night table and expertly sheathing himself he pulled her up to meet him and plunged himself inside with one deep thrust.
 

The air whooshed out as Gabby fought for control. Arching her spine she threw her head back trying not to dissolve, trying to take in the girth of him. Even though the evidence had been right in front of her, she’d forgotten how big he was, how he filled every part of her. When she finally found her breath she discovered him with his eyes screwed shut, concentration written large on his face. “At least I’m not the only one ready to explode,” she managed, her voice raw.

“Don’t speak too soon.” He spoke through gritted teeth and began to pull out—slow, deliberate, delicious.
 

Any words that might have been ready to spar with him were lost, her entire focus honed in on the point where their bodies met. He thrust back in, making her breath hitch in her throat, then pulled out slowly again, his control firmly reinstated and the smile on his face showing his pleasure at her reaction.
 

Her internal muscles began to milk him as he plunged in, and out, each time with more connection, each time driving her on towards climax. She had no words left. There was only movement, the meeting of their bodies, the crush of their souls as this most intimate of acts reeled them closer and closer together.
 

This is how it’s supposed to be. How it’s always been with you.
“Oh, Nicolas.”

“Stay with me.” He pushed her further into the mattress, his rhythm building until her tremors began to spiral out of her control. Her body clenched against his and she reached up to pull his mouth to hers, using it to stifle the cries that threatened to shatter her world. With a low groan, he let go, riding the rush she’d begun.

For a moment neither of them moved. Neither of them uttered a sound except for the ragged drawing of breath.
 

“That was…”

“Amazing,” he said and kissed her. Unlike during their love making this was a lingering kiss. Deep, long, slow and gentle. As he pulled back he looked her right in the face and if it hadn’t already been racing, Gabby’s heart would have taken off. Gone was the storm cloud malice, and instead his gaze was filled with a tenderness she’d never seen in anyone other than a mother with her child.

Maybe he—what? Felt a little of what she felt? And what, exactly, was that?
 

Gabby didn’t want to break eye contact, didn’t want to move in case the spell they’d created shattered and the world returned to its complicated, messy self.

As if he shared her innermost thoughts, Nicolas blinked slowly and smiled. “Don’t move.” With a reluctant sigh he rolled off her and stepped lightly towards the bathroom.
Another
en-suite. How big was this place?

The water running turned into a soothing hum and without meaning to, Gabby’s eyes started to droop. Pulling at the edge of the duvet she partially covered herself and snuggled in, ready for Nicolas to return.

The bed was so warm, so soft. Shifting her head she inhaled the smell of him from the pillow. Perfect.

She shut her eyes for just a moment, just while she waited.

 
Rubbing her face, Gabby looked around for Nicolas and then froze. There was a different quality of light in the room. They hadn’t closed the curtains last night. Was it dawn sunlight? She
couldn’t have—Could she?
 

She sat up. “Nicolas?”

No answer.
 

Searching the room for a clock she spied a white—obviously—dish on the wall, no numbers, just hands moving a slow dance around it’s frame. It was hard to read but even if she was out an hour, it was definitely morning. “Oh my god. I slept in his bed.”
 

Figuring there was no way Nicolas was going to let her be late for work, she fell back in the downy pillows and luxuriated a moment. Pulling the covers up to her chin she let the memory of their night together recoat her skin. His hands had been hot, his tongue wicked, his eyes—that had been the best part—the way Nicolas looked at her last night was how she’d always dreamed he would. Devoted. Dedicated. Drunk. “Drunk on love,” she whispered.
 

“Oh no, Fraser.” Jumping out of bed she scanned the room for her clothes. Damn and blast, what had she been thinking. How was she going to explain this to Fraser? Moving and changing babysitters was enough for him to deal with in one day. Donning her PJs and robe in record time she tiptoed down the hall, then scolded herself and walked briskly to Fraser’s room. He didn’t even stir when she peeked in.

“I didn’t have the heart to wake you.” The words were a whisper, but made her jump nonetheless. Not ready to look at Nicolas while he watched over his sleeping son she shut the door and gestured him away from the room into the neutral ground of the kitchen.

He moved back to the stove top and Gabby had to dig her nails into the palm of her hands to stop the groan that bubbled up when she looked at him deftly stirring eggs on the element. He would have had her against that bench if she hadn’t made him stop, she was sure of it. This kitchen wasn’t so neutral after all, but then neither was the lounge, and his bedroom…

“I don’t know how you take your eggs these days, but I’m doing scrambled.”

“What time is it?”

“Just after half six. You’ve got plenty of time for breakfast. My driver can run you in if you don’t fancy the walk.”

Of course. His apartment was a brisk ten minutes away from Able’s. No more subway. Heaven. “Sounds good,” she managed to chirp brightly.
 

His cell buzzed on the kitchen bench.

“Early?”

He shrugged. “Normal.”

You didn’t get to the top by sleeping in.
 

He dished up two plates of eggs over fresh bagels and passed one to her while he checked his cell. “I’m sorry. I’m going to have to get this.”