And he was acutely disappointed, just the thought making him feel as though he’d lost a limb, even though he’d only known her for a day.
The children had disappeared to get into their pajamas and brush their teeth, then they’d each be able to pick one present from beneath the tree to open before getting cookies ready for Santa, carrots for his reindeer.
“I don’t envy their parents trying to get them to bed,” he murmured.
She stopped, turned to face him, and the sad in her eyes was intense. “They’re wonderful,” she said. “All of them. I—” A shake of her head. “I’ve never had that—never had a night like this. It’s . . .” Words trailing off, she rotated back around and started for the front door.
“Wait.”
He should let her go. Stop this before his draw to her grew to even more absurd proportions.
But . . . he didn’t want to.
“What is it?” she asked.
“I—”
His eyes flicked up, saw the sprig of green hanging overhead.
And he stopped thinking, especially when her eyes followed his, when their gazes came together, and he saw the heat there.
She stepped toward him.
Or maybe he stepped toward her.
Then their mouths met—and for more than a heartbeat this time.
Sweet, the taste of marshmallow on her tongue. Tart, the nip of his bottom lip as she moved closer and wound her arms around his neck. Pleasure slid down his spine, coiled in his middle. Winding his arms around her, he tugged her until her breasts were flush against his chest, until her scent was surrounding him like a thundercloud, until . . .
Voices in the hall.
They jumped back, breath coming in rapid gasps.
“I should go,” she began.
“Don’t.” He took her hand. “Just stay a little longer.”
Her lips parted, and he could see the protest in the depths of those rich brown eyes.
“Please?”
She released a shuddering breath, nodded. “Just a little longer.”
“Uncle Dale,” Max called, thundering toward them. “It’s present time!”
“One present time,” Melissa said, hurrying after him.
“Present time!” he yelled, running toward the big family room.
Melissa grinned and shook her head, following him. “You guys staying?”
Dale nodded. “For a bit more.”
“Great,” she said, her voice dropped to a whisper. “We’re having adult hot cocoa in a few. You guys want it?”
“That sounds lovely,” Elizabeth murmured.
“Yes, thanks, Miss,” he said.
“Anytime.” A beat, more laughter and pounding feet heading into the family room. “I’d better get in there before they start demolishing the tree.” Then she was gone, and they were alone in the hall.
“Why can’t you be a contact of Justin’s from northeast Utah?” he asked lightly.
“I know,” she murmured. “But maybe—”
“What?” he asked, when she didn’t finish the statement.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It does,” he said, just deciding to bare his soul, to go with his gut and put everything he was feeling out in the open. “Don’t tell me that you don’t feel this.” He cupped her cheek. “Don’t tell me this doesn’t feel more right than anything with anyone else.”
“It can’t be, Dale.”
“Why can’t we decide what it can or can’t be?” he asked, stepping closer, brushing his lips across hers. “Why can’t we take the time and—”
“Because we don’t have time,” she whispered. “Because we only have tonight.”
His heart sank, but instead of protesting, he walked to the coat rack, grabbed two jackets and handed one to her.
“What are you doing?”
“If we only have tonight,” he said. “Let’s make it count.”
Then he took her hand and led her out the front door.
Twelve
Elizabeth
He took her to look at the moon.
Traipsing through the hills in shoes that were definitely not designed for hiking.
“Wait,” he said, lifting her up onto his back when she slipped again. “Hang on tight.”
Then he carried her, piggy-back style, through those hills until they got to the top of one that gave a view of the entire valley.
A few bright lights from the houses below dotted the landscape, but most of the space was wide open, dimly lit from the moon shining overhead.
“I used to come out here when I was a kid,” he said in a hushed tone. “Well, not here, exactly, but outside, day or night, trying to clear my head, to find some quiet that wasn’t going to be interrupted by yelling or fighting or something worse.”
Her heart thudded in her chest.
“Did you do it a lot?”
He nodded, helping her find her feet and slipping an arm around her waist. “Yes, almost every night, and in the summer whenever I wasn’t at the garage. It was the only place that . . . I found peace.”
She rested her head on his shoulder. “I used to hide in a corner of my parents’ garden. There was a wall covered with vines and shadowed by a tree. I would go there and pretend to be a princess locked in a tower, waiting for someone to come free me.”
Only they never did.
And she couldn’t bring herself to give voice to that thought.
“You didn’t need them.”
“What?” she asked, glancing up.
“You didn’t need someone to come,” he said. “You were able to free yourself.”
Yes, she had.
“So, why do I still feel so trapped?” She shuddered. So alone. So empty.
“Just because you were able to free yourself doesn’t mean you should have.”
One sentence, and that jagged hole in her settled, its ragged edges softening. One sentence, and she wanted to forget about the business, about London. She wanted to stay here longer.
But . . . what if she ended up alone again?
She’d worked so hard to be her own person, to not need anyone else, so she couldn’t need this man, especially when she was so drawn to him after mere hours.
“I should get back,” she whispered. “I have an early flight in the morning.”
Fingers on her cheek, a warm arm tucking her closer.
For. One. More. Moment.
Then he scooped her up onto his back, piggy-back style again, and carried her to the bunkhouse. They only had the night, that was why she didn’t protest when he kissed her again.
At least, that was what she told herself.
Same reason as why she took his hand and drew him into her bedroom.
Why she kissed him, her fingers working at the zipper of his coat, tugging at the hem of his T-shirt, helping him bring it up over his head. Wanting one more moment is why she reached for her own coat and shrugged it off.
Why she let him kiss every inch of her body and why she returned the favor.
And that moment is why she pulled a condom from her makeup bag then reached for the button on his jeans.
“Are you—”
“Sure,” she finished, fingers on his lips. “Yes,” she whispered. “Let’s be together. At least for tonight.”