Misbehaving Under the Mistletoe. Heidi Rice

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parted lips. Her hands braced against his chest, but instead of shoving him back, as she’d intended, her fingers curled into the soft sweater, the forceful strokes of his tongue igniting the heat at her core, and sending it burning through her system like a forest fire.

      When he finally lifted his head, both of them were breathing heavily.

      He dropped his hand, looking as shocked as she felt at the instant and violent attraction that had blazed to life in seconds.

      Last night had been fun, flirty and intense, but only ever in a sexual sense. Why should a simple kiss feel more intimate?

      ‘I’m sorry,’ he murmured, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket. ‘That was out of order. I guess I was more pissed off than I realised.’

      ‘That’s okay,’ she said, feeling both stunned and wary. Although it wasn’t okay. Not really, but not for the reasons he thought. She’d welcomed the kiss, her body reacting instinctively to it. So how on earth was she going to get her jitterbugging hormones back under control now? And how was she going to persuade herself that she didn’t care what she was giving up, when her body would probably never stop reminding her?

      ‘It was rude of me to leave without saying anything,’ she whispered.

      He propped his butt on the edge of the sofa. Hitched his shoulders as he shoved his fists deeper into his pockets. ‘You never gave me an answer.’ A crooked smile lifted his lips. ‘I guess I’m not used to women doing that. I wasn’t expecting you to be gone this morning.’

      It was as she suspected. His ego had been dented. Nothing more dramatic than that.

      He levered himself off the sofa. ‘Let me ask again, the way I should have done when I walked in. Instead of giving you a hard time.’

      And a kiss that had nearly blown the top of her head off, Cassie added silently as he took one hand out of his pocket and touched her cheek.

      She shivered, the contact as electric as it had been a moment ago, even though he was barely touching her.

      He stroked his thumb across her lips. ‘How do you feel about hanging out with me, till I go back to New York on New Year’s Day?’

      ‘You live in New York?’ she said a bit inanely.

      ‘Haven’t I mentioned that already?’

      She shook her head.

      He smiled. ‘Seems like we’ve got some catching up to do. We’ve kind of done this thing backwards, haven’t we?’

      What thing? They didn’t have a thing, she thought, her panic button tripping again.

      ‘So do I get an answer this time?’ he prompted.

      But he didn’t sound nearly as sure of himself as he had yesterday. The thought made her feel a little less wary of him. That cast-iron control had slipped when he’d kissed her. If only for a moment. And it made him seem a tiny bit less overpowering.

      She took a steady breath and opted to tell him the truth. ‘My answer is, I’m not sure.’

      He tilted his head to one side, rubbed one of her curls between his thumb and forefinger. ‘What’s not to be sure about?’ he asked.

      ‘I don’t know you.’

      ‘We’ll get to know each other.’ His lips curved into a rueful smile. ‘As much as I’d like to spend the next ten days making nonstop love to you, even I have my limits. And we’ll probably have to eat occasionally. Which means we’ll no doubt have to talk to each other.’

      She stepped back, tucked her hands into the back pockets of her jeans, impossibly tempted by the chance to get to know him better. But she would have to tell him the rest first.

      She met his eyes. ‘I got hurt. Nine months ago. When my last relationship ended. And I don’t want to get involved with anyone right now.’

      ‘Involved?’ His eyebrows shot up. ‘How does ten days of small talk and great sex equal involved?’

      ‘It doesn’t,’ she corrected quickly. She didn’t want him thinking she was a romantic fool. Because she wasn’t. Not any more. ‘I know it doesn’t. Which is a good thing. Because that’s definitely not what I want.’

      He slipped his hand round her waist, hauled her against him. ‘Then there isn’t a problem.’ He kissed her, lingering on her lips this time, making her sex ache and her breasts swell and tighten. ‘Is there?’

      Could it really be that simple?

      The crooked smile became even more charming. ‘You know, Cassidy, you’re being a bit of a girl about this.’

      ‘That’s possibly because I am a girl,’ she pointed out, not sure whether to laugh at the statement or be affronted.

      ‘I know.’ He kissed her again. ‘And that’s a very good point. But why don’t I give you a guy’s perspective?’ he said, as if he were humouring her. ‘To help clarify things.’

      ‘Okay,’ she said, intrigued to see where this was going.

      ‘The truth is,’ he began, ‘I’m not the sort of guy anyone gets involved with. And for a very good reason. I’m not remotely reliable,’ he said, not sounding in the least bit ashamed of his lack of constancy.

      ‘You got involved with your wife, didn’t you?’ she countered.

      He cleared his throat. ‘She’s my ex-wife. Which sort of proves my point.’

      ‘Fair enough.’

      ‘So as I was saying, before I was so rudely interrupted,’ he admonished, his eyes twinkling. ‘You don’t need to worry about me expecting more from this relationship than you want to give me. Because I can guarantee you. I won’t want more than I’ve asked for, which is—’

      ‘Great sex and small talk,’ she finished for him.

      ‘Exactly!’ he said as if she were a brilliant student and he the teacher. ‘You see, guys are very straightforward. We want what we say on the tin. There is hardly ever a hidden subtext. And there certainly isn’t one here.’

      ‘And what does your tin say?’ she asked, unable to stifle a grin.

      The man was a complete rogue where women were concerned. And while she probably shouldn’t find his lack of scruples refreshing, somehow she did. David and Lance had both pretended to be something they weren’t. Namely dependable and reliable and in the market for a real relationship when they never had been. While Jace, for all his wicked ways, had been honest about what he wanted. And what he didn’t.

      Nessa had told her he wasn’t a cheater. And she’d been spot on.

      He smiled as the desire in his eyes intensified. He pressed against her, the rigid arousal making her hormones do a very happy dance indeed. ‘My tin says that I don’t get involved.’ He sank his fingers into her hair, framing her face. ‘But I do have some other fine qualities that we can explore at our leisure for eleven whole days.’

      He

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