Debbi Rawlins – Her Christmas Temptation: The Billionaire Who Bought Christmas / What She Really Wants for Christmas / Baby, It's Cold Outside (страница 20)

She freed her hands, and her arms wrapped tight around his neck. Her lips and tongue planted hot, wet kisses along his shoulder.

His mouth was jealous, so he cupped her chin, lining her up for a carnal kiss as his body found its rhythm. He teased her tongue, sucked on her lips, tasted the sweet nectar of her mouth.

Her hands squeezed tight on his biceps, her fingernails denting his skin. Sweat formed between them, slicking their skin, adding to the eroticism of their joining. He cupped her buttocks, drawing her tight against him, tighter, tighter, as he pumped harder and faster. He could feel her muscles tense. Her mewls of desire grew higher pitched, louder against his ear.

This was it. He was losing it.

He held on, held on, held on.

Then her keening cry and the convulsions of her body sent him crashing over the edge. Waves of release washed over him as he held her, reveling in the warm buzzing glow of satiation.

Reality was going to hit them like a freight train, he knew. But, for now, nothing mattered except the small sporadic twitches that told him Kristy was resting on the same plane of satisfaction as him. He inhaled the scent of her hair, stroked his hand over her full breast, tasted the salt of her skin.

Her breathing gradually relaxed, and he eased her sleeping body into a spoon against his own. Then he reached for his cell, and sent a quick text message to Simon.

No need to head for L.A. now. Jack had accomplished his mission.

He swallowed a sudden lump in his throat, his usual self-righteousness was battling an unfamiliar and unsettling slither of guilt. He told himself it had to be done. The family was his responsibility. And, anyway, Kristy had brought it on herself.

She had.

He hadn’t been given a choice.

Then she wriggled her bare bottom against him, and his arm spontaneously tightened around her. She turned her head to look up at him and smiled like an angel, even as the unmistakable glow of desire rose in her blue eyes.

He chuckled softly, brushing a lock of hair from her flushed cheek. “Again?”

She nodded, and he immediately kissed her swollen mouth.

His body sprang to attention. He flipped her onto her back, pressing her warmth and softness into the big, wide mattress. Just a little longer, he promised himself as desire and passion licked at the corners of his soul. Just a few more hours in paradise.

He’d be burning in hell soon enough.

CHAPTER SIX

JACK WAS awakened by Kristy’s cry of shock. She scooted out of his arms, flipping back the covers and letting in a blast of cold air.

He blinked his blurry eyes to see her leap from the bed and rush naked into the en suite.

“What?” he called out, sitting up and ruffling his hands through his messy hair. He could see her naked profile at the sink as she scrambled for the toothpaste. They’d made love into the early-morning hours, then slept soundly in each other’s arms. She couldn’t be shocked to find herself naked in his bed this morning.

She marched from the bathroom, a white robe draped around her shoulders, open in front, a toothbrush protruding from her mouth. She unceremoniously uncovered him. “We’re late!”

Jack rolled out of bed, slipping his arms into the other robe as a concrete block settled firmly in his stomach. They weren’t late, because they weren’t going to her meeting in California, and it was time for him to ‘fess up. He couldn’t postpone it any longer.

She trotted back to the sink, spitting out the toothpaste and rinsing her mouth. “Call Simon,” she commanded, above the sound of the running water. “Tell him to warm up the engines or something.”

Jack tried to frame up his confession, but he couldn’t find the correct words. Hell, he could barely command his vocal chords to work.

“Kristy,” he finally rasped.

She turned. “Why are you still standing there?”

His hands involuntarily closed into fists. “Because there’s no point in going to L.A.”

Her glance shot to the clock on the bedside table. It showed eight-fifteen, and her voice went hollow. “We could call Cleveland and explain.”

Jack jerked backward, his guilt turning to shock. “Explain that we got married?”

She nodded.

“And you think he’ll still want to see you?”

Her eyes went wide, giving her face a sweet, vulnerable look that almost got to him. But he ruthlessly reminded himself who she was and what she’d planned, and that she’d married him under as many false pretenses as he’d married her.

“He values punctuality that much?”

Jack shook his head, giving a dry chuckle. “I think he values fidelity that much.”

“Huh?”

“Kristy, you married me.” Jack jammed his thumb against the center of his chest. “Me, not him.”

She blinked, and her voice dropped to a confused whisper. “What are you talking about?”

Man, she was good. Sometimes he couldn’t believe just how good she was. He also couldn’t believe she’d keep the dumb act up for this long. What was the point?

He grabbed his slacks from the chair where he’d tossed them last night. He stuffed in one leg and then the other, watching her with a fatalistic curiosity.

“The jig is up, babe. You can’t get your hands on Cleveland’s money if you’re already married to me. And you can’t get your hands on mine because, one of those papers you signed last night was a pre-nup. And it’ll hold up in court.”

Kristy staggered back. For a second there, he thought her knees might give out beneath her. “What?”

“What?” he mimicked, sarcastically even as he fought the urge to pull her into his arms and offer comfort.

He hated himself for that weakness. And because of his inner battle, the response came out harsher than he intended. “You’re caught. You’re not going to be Mrs. Trophy-Wife-Cleveland-Osland-Number-Three. You’ll have to find another scheme to hawk those rags you call a spring collection.”

Her face turned pure white, and she groped to steady herself on the back of a chair.

Then his cell phone jangled on the table. He snagged it, hoping it was an emergency that would get him out of here and away from his unreasonable guilt.

“Yeah?” he barked.

“Where the hell are you?” his grandfather’s voice boomed.

Perfect. Could the moment get any worse?

“Vegas,” Jack answered, while Kristy blinked at him with big, round, accusatory, blue eyes. He was tempted to turn away from her censure. But he was in the right. She was the one who’d hatched the plan to get his family’s money.

He held his ground.

“Hunter tells me you’ve got Kristy.”

“Yeah,” said Jack, holding her gaze. “The two of us got married last night.”

“Well, get your asses to California. I’ve got seven people sitting around the boardroom table waiting for her.”

Gramps reaction threw Jack. “Didn’t you hear me? We got married last night.”

“Bully for you. Nanette and I bought a Ferrari last night.”

“Who’s Nanette.”

“My fiancée.”

The sensation of being sucker-punched was so strong that Jack actually flinched.

He stared at Kristy in horror as she held the oversized robe around her for protection—her confused eyes, her sleep-mussed hair, her over-kissed lips.

What had he done?

What had he done?

Stupid question.

He’d married the wrong woman.

HEARING JACK’S explanation, and listening to his side of the telephone conversation with Cleveland, it took Kristy about thirty seconds to put the pieces together. The whole thing was a fraud. Jack hadn’t been falling in love with her this weekend. He’d been making a preemptive strike against her.