Cathy Yardley – Baby, It's Cold Outside (страница 4)

That fascination seemed to be alive and well, he noted with some amusement.

They drove past the town square and up the hill to where the fancier houses stood, legacies of days past, when several tycoons had had hunting lodges here. The Stanfield mansion was one of the most opulent and, decked out with Christmas lights, it looked downright regal. “Wow,” he said, taking in the picture-perfect scene.

She parked the car, sending him a quicksilver smile that caused his stomach to tighten unexpectedly. “Thanks. This hotel’s my life.”

“It shows.” She’d obviously lavished a lot of love on the place.

For a brief, puzzling second, he envied the brick building.

Okay, you’re losing it.

That was why he hated the holidays, he thought as he hefted his bags and headed for the front door. They made a guy maudlin. He lived his life exactly the way he wanted it—full of adventure, with something new happening almost every day. He had no regrets. And right now the last thing he needed was to have some confusing, sentimental thoughts about a girl he hadn’t seen in years.

The large foyer had a curving staircase to the second floor. “Evening, Phillip,” she greeted a guy in a suit who stood behind an oak reception desk. “I’m going to need a key for Mr. Reese, here. For room twelve.”

The guy—Phillip—looked ruffled. “That’s going to be a problem,” he said. “The Rivers party showed up after all. They decided to brave the weather and have the vacation.”

“Oh?” Emily looked nonplussed for a second, then she turned to Colin, her expression apologetic. “I guess there’s no room at the inn after all.”

He winced. There was no way in hell he was going back to his parents’ house. “Considering the season, I don’t suppose you’ve got a manger or something,” he joked, feeling a little desperate. “I don’t take up much room.”

She shook her head. “Even the garage is filled up with cars. Sorry, Colin. I’ll drive you back.”

“Wait a second,” he said, pulling her aside, away from the inquisitive Phillip. “Seriously. Isn’t there anyplace you could stick me? Maid’s room? Good-size pantry? I’d even be happy with a broom closet.”

She sighed. “I’d love to help you out, but…”

“You don’t understand,” he interrupted. “My six-year-old niece has been waking me up at five-thirty every morning to watch Sesame Street. My eight-year-old nephew, who’s sharing my room, has been keeping me up until two because he’s convinced that there are monsters. I’ve been crammed onto an army cot.” He could see that it wasn’t getting through to her…that no matter what his plea, she was the type who could withstand it.

He swallowed hard and played his trump card.

“My mother’s been asking me why I haven’t gotten married yet,” he said. “At every. Single. Meal.”

Emily’s eyes widened. Then she laughed—a soft, rich sound that made him feel as though he’d just been brushed by mink.

“Knowing Ava, I can only imagine. I love her, but she is…” She grinned mischievously. “Shall we say, persistent.”

“As a Sherman tank.”

She looked up at the ceiling as if mentally debating something. Then she sighed. “Okay, tell you what—I converted the attic to my own private apartment,” she said. “You can crash on my couch for tonight. But just for tonight. Tomorrow we’ll think of something else.”

Gratitude washed over him. “I owe you for this. Big-time.”

She nodded absently, then went back to the desk. “I’m going to have Mr. Reese here stay with me,” she said, and Colin watched as a look of calculation and a slow smirk crossed the clerk’s face.

“On her couch,” Colin emphasized.

“Of course,” Phillip returned blandly.

“One other thing, Phillip?” Emily asked, her voice going soft. “Did a J. P. Webster check in?”

“At around six,” Phillip said. “Room five.”

“Perfect. Thank you.”

There was an edge of excitement in her voice, Colin noticed. Unexpectedly he felt irritation. Who the hell was J. P. Webster? And why did she suddenly sound so thrilled?

“Colin, why don’t you follow me and I’ll get you settled in.”

Colin followed her to a small private elevator, taking it up to her apartment. It was roomier than he’d expected. There was a small kitchen, a living room, a bathroom and the bedroom. There was even a small fireplace. It was well decorated and obviously expensive, but it still looked cozy and inviting. To his surprise, he felt tension start to ebb out of his body.

“This is it,” she said artlessly. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to change really quickly, then I need to go downstairs for a while. Business.”

But that breathless quality in her voice suggested it had nothing to do with business. That irritation that Colin had felt before doubled.

“Mind if I light a fire?” he asked to give himself something to do besides ruminate on what exactly her business might be.

“Please do,” she said before shutting the bedroom door behind her.

Within minutes he had a small fire going in the hearth. The room smelled like spiced apple cider. He’d probably be asleep in minutes, he realized. He hadn’t felt this relaxed since he’d returned to Tall Pines.

He heard the bedroom door open and he turned. “I can’t thank you enough…”

His words died on his lips.

She’d changed, all right.

Emily’s hair tumbled in loose auburn waves, dancing slightly below her shoulders. She was wearing a rich red velvet robe with Stanfield Arms embroidered on the crest. He wondered absently if she was wearing anything under the robe.

Just like that, his body went hard as steel and all thoughts of sleep fled. He bit back a groan. “That must be some business.”

Her ivory cheeks flooded with color, and she avoided his gaze. “It’s nine o’clock at night. I just want to make sure that one of my…special guests…is comfortable.”

Colin didn’t say a word.

“Sheets, blankets and pillows are in the cupboard in the hallway there.” She pointed, still not looking at him. “The fridge is stocked if you’re hungry, and if you need anything, just dial eight for the front desk.”

“When will you be back?” he asked.

Finally she met his gaze.

The heat in her eyes could have set the room on fire.

“I don’t know when I’ll be back,” she said quietly. “So don’t wait up.”

IT WAS RISKY. Possibly even stupid, Emily thought as she belted her robe tighter around her waist. But she was going to do it anyway.

She was going to J. P. Webster’s room wearing only a silk shortie nightgown and one of the hotel robes and—if everything went perfectly—she was going to have sex.

She could only imagine what Colin was thinking of her little announcement. She’d done everything but say, “Make yourself at home, I’m off to get laid.” The look he’d given her as she’d shut the door was one of shock mixed with something else she couldn’t quite identify. She hoped it wasn’t shame on her behalf. Still, Colin was a world-famous hotshot architect now, and if rumors were true, he had romanced women all over the continent. Several continents, actually, if his mother’s complaints were to be believed. “Always with a different girl every month,” she’d griped loudly at the last Otter Lodge pancake breakfast. “Last month, a lawyer from Hong Kong…the month before, a model from Brazil….” So she’d be damned if she let herself be judged by Mr. Commitmentphobic, especially since this was going to be her first fling ever.

Emily felt heat on her cheeks. She was blushing. She knew it.

Please, please let him be cute and let me go through with this. She couldn’t face another restless night. She wanted to feel the delicious release that only a man could provide—even if it was only temporary.

She got to room five and knocked on the door. “J.P.?”

The door opened slowly. She took a deep breath.

A beautiful blond woman, also in a robe, was standing there. “Can I help you?”

Emily goggled momentarily. This she hadn’t anticipated.

“I’m sorry.” Of course he would have brought his girlfriend! God, I’m an idiot! “I was looking for J. P. Webster. I didn’t mean for it to be so late….”

“That’s quite all right,” the woman said genially. “You’ve found her.”

“Her?”

“J.P. stands for Joy Patricia. My friends call me Joy.” She held out her hand, and, dumbstruck, Emily shook it. “I’m sorry…what’s your name?”

“Oh. Right. I’m Emily Stanfield, the owner of the hotel.” And a moron. “I just wanted to stop by and make sure that you had everything you needed.”

Unfortunately J.P. did not have anything Emily needed.

“Emily! It’s so nice to finally meet you in person. And thank you again for suggesting I stay at your inn instead of spending the holiday alone while my family was in Bermuda. I got in and fell in love with this place,” Joy enthused, seeming not to notice Emily’s discomfort. “It’s everything you said it was and more.”

“Well, that is high praise,” Emily said. “And I’m glad it’s made such a good impression. I’m sure you’re exhausted. I’ll just say good night and let you sleep….”