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The town square was buzzing with conversation and bright lights, the festive mood so cheery it was impossible not to enjoy it. Clive found himself milling through the knots of people, his hand cradling Kate’s. He turned to look at her, felt his loins tighten at the sight of her.
The cold wind had bitten red splashes of color into her cheeks. Her red hair was loose, the top covered with a green knit cap, and a matching scarf swung around her throat. Her long wool pea coat swirled around her knees, the dark material swaying against her dark skirt and black boots in the breeze. But her smile was what made his body thrum. It was wide and full of humor, and when she turned it to him Clive felt as if he had been wrapped in a warm hug.
When had he gotten this sentimental? From the minute he’d seen her, he supposed. It had been inevitable, even back then, and he’d have known it if he’d listened to the little clicking inside his chest. There was something about her, something that was essential for him, and he couldn’t walk away from that. The truth had dawned on him last night as he’d lain in bed holding her, listening to her breathe, watching her sleep. Somehow, she’d managed to snatch his heart. It was a disconcerting feeling. It was also a freeing one.
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“Did you get your brownies?” She laughed quietly, which scattered his wayward thoughts, and held up the brightly bagged squares she’d been given. “Mrs. Gibbons does this every year, without fail.”
“Good advertising for her bakery.”
“Um, yes, but I think it’s more about competition. She couldn’t let Mr. Davies beat her with his popcorn.”
Clive turned to look at the man who was busily shoveling popcorn out of his old-fashioned popping machine, filling white bags full of the salty treat. “A competition between popcorn and brownies?”
“It’s our own, very watered-down version of the Hatfields and McCoys. Their kids decided to rain on their parade by falling in love and getting married.”
“But the tradition still holds.”
She lifted her eyebrows as if she were shocked. “Of course. The hot chocolate has no competitors, though.”
“Maybe we should’ve set up a hot cider table, get the Jaycees’ blood pressures jumping.”
She chuckled and bumped his hip with hers. “I don’t know. I’m sort of afraid of Mrs.
Hildabrass. She looks like she could take me.”
Happy with the teasing, enjoying the free moments with her, he hooked his arms around her shoulders and pulled her close. “Well, we can’t have that gorgeous face of yours messed up with cane marks, can we? I suppose we’ll just have to suffer through the hot chocolate.”
A smiling brunette jumped in front of them, her cheery smile so bright she nearly drown out the holiday lights. “Did you hang your ornament yet, Kate?”
“I did, Joan. And so did Clive.”
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The woman nodded, her blue eyes all curiosity as she stared at Clive. “Wonderful, wonderful. Now, you just remember what ornament you had this year, Dr. Thibodaux, and be sure to hang it next year. It’s supposed to bring good luck.”
“I’ll be sure to do that.” He gave her a wink and had to stifle a laugh when she blushed.
They watched her scurry away and melt into a crowd of chattering women. He knew he was about to be the hot topic of the local gossip circle. Kate laid her head on his shoulder, drawing his attention back.
“I can’t believe you told Mr. Burnside that you were a doctor. And that you’re writing another book.”
“He asked.”
“And I suppose it won’t hurt to build you up a bit. After all, they’ll never know.”
Her almost carefree attitude about what she supposed was a lie pricked his temper.
There was no reason for it, he knew, but it rankled that she would be so flippant about his career. Not that she knew he’d actually told the truth. Well, not that she knew yet. He had every intention of telling her. The problem was that he had to find the right time, the right place, to ease her into the idea that he was exactly who he was telling everyone he was.
Because there was no way he could start a long-term, serious relationship with her until he was honest with her. And that’s exactly what he wanted from her, and exactly what she needed from him. She just didn’t realize it yet.
She suddenly stopped, freezing in midstep. “Oh no.”
He looked at her, then followed her line of sight. Just a few feet away, almost directly in front of them, was a young couple. The tall, blond man, who was wearing a gray coat, beige pants, and loafers, was staring at them. Young executive just out of work, Clive thought, and shifted his gaze. The woman beside him, a petite, badly box-dyed blonde, was obviously pregnant, her bright red coat swaying around her protruding belly as she chatted with an older man.
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“Who is it?” He could feel the waves of anxiety rolling from Kate and squeezed her shoulders to give her comfort.
“It’s my ex-fiancé and his lovely wife.”
Her voice was low, but solid, with no wavering or uncertainty. She sounded more annoyed than hurt, and the knowledge eased a tightness he hadn’t known he’d been carrying. If her attitude was any indication, there was no affection left for this blond man.
He barely checked the impulse to breath out a sigh of relief.
“That’s Ethan?” Clive sized him up, meeting his eyes without a flinch. “Wave, sweetheart. Don’t let him think that he’s upsetting you.”
He felt her nod, knew the moment she waved by the puzzled look on the other man’s face. Obviously, good ol’ Ethan thought it was an invitation and moved toward them with purposeful strides. Clive kept his casually protective stance as the other man approached.
“Kate,” Ethan said, the word tight.
“Hello, Ethan.”
Clive’s smile widened at the cool, composed way Kate had replied. Just two words had conveyed the impression of boredom and forced cheerfulness.
“You must be Thibodaux, the man everyone’s talking about.”
Ignoring the narrowed, speculative gaze, he quirked an eyebrow. “I didn’t think I was that fascinating.”
“Clive, Ethan Cantrell. Ethan, Dr. Clive Thibodaux.” Kate made the introductions as quickly and efficiently as possible, not even bothering to use gestures.
“Dr. Thibodaux? But you aren’t a real doctor, are you? You’re a professor.”
Clive chuckled, wondering if the man knew how childish he sounded. “If you mean I don’t set stitches or delivery babies, then you’re right. Guilty as charged. I teach at the University in Elizabeth Falls.”
“A geek,” he scoffed.
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“A nerd, to be exact. Though I don’t dress up for Star Trek conventions. You ever been to one, Ethan?”
The other man bristled and turned his attention back to Kate. “You should have told me you were coming back to town. We could have…arranged something.”
The angry flush that crept into her face was clear warning that her temper was short.
“The only thing I’d arrange for you, Ethan, is an ambulance to the hospital when your wife goes into labor.”
With a mutinous look as he jammed his hands into his coat pockets. “Look, Kate, there’s no need to be that way. We were friends before…before Heather and I were married.”
Kate shook her head. “You’re right, Ethan. We were.”
His face brightened, obviously expecting a chance to be forgiven. “Well, then, why don’t you come and walk around with me. Heather is talking with her family. I’m sure…Thibodaux can find something to occupy himself.”
She sighed, the sound long and tired. “I’m done with you, Ethan. Just done. I’ve been over you for a long time now.”
“Kate.” He stopped, gave Clive an irritated look, and moved closer to Kate. “I really want to talk to you…in private. Just a few minutes.”
Clive felt his hand fist and bit back the sudden, animalistic desire to knock her ex on his ass. But the man wasn’t worth it, not when his actions might embarrass not just Kate, but her family, as well. So he brought his temper under control and sent the other man a brittle smile.
“I know it’s hard, Ethan. I mean, Kate is a beautiful woman, smart, funny, passionate…very passionate, actually. And if you’ve ever heard her play, you know it’s like the angels have come down to dance on her fingertips.” He slapped a friendly hand on Ethan’s shoulder. “It’s just too bad you didn’t have the sense to know when you’d hit the 60 Flesa Black
jackpot. But I’m not that stupid. So, why don’t you go take your neglected wife for that walk, and maybe talk about baby names, or what sport you’re going to enroll the baby in?”
Without waiting for a response, he steered Kate away in the opposite direction. He waited until they were a good distance away to speak.
“I’m sorry. I know that’s something you have to resolve on your own. I swear I was going to let you do that, but he really pissed me off.”
Kate sent him a dazzling smile, and he felt his heart skip and stumble. “Actually, I didn’t mind at all. To tell you the truth, I…”
He stopped and gave her a little shake. “Tell me the truth. It sounds like it might be interesting.”
She bit her bottom lip, tempting him with her delicate teeth and plump mouth. “All right. To tell you the truth, it sort of turned me on, to have you defend me like that. I know it’s probably old-fashioned, and God knows they’d come and take my feminist card if word got out. But seeing you ready to take his head off because of me was hot.”
Nothing she could have said would have been any more of an aphrodisiac. His cock twitched an immediate response, strained against his fly as it expanded, and demanded immediate attention.
“You know what turns me on?” He drew her closer, hovered a scant inch over her mouth with his own. “Watching you breathe. Watching you smile. Watching you speak.”
He brushed his lips against hers and greedily absorbed the shock the contact created.
He felt her melt from that one contact and pressed his advantage. Strengthening the kiss, he swiped his tongue across hers and drew a moan from her throat. She cuddled closer, bringing her pelvis hard against his thickening shaft. He tightened his grip, pulling into him, pressing his cock into her.
Desperation clawed like a wild animal at his insides, ripping at what little control he had. He needed her badly. He hadn’t known he was so close to the edge. He thought about Tinsel Town
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taking her back to the hotel. Her tongue wrapped around his as her hands grasped his hair, and he knew they wouldn’t make it out of the parking lot. Hell, he didn’t think they’d make it to the car.
He pulled away and stared down at her. When he saw the expression on her face, he knew she was feeling as crazed as he was. He smiled, grabbed her hand, and pulled her toward the buildings that ringed the town square.
“Clive…Clive, the car is --”
He turned his head long enough to show her the heat he knew was in his eyes. She gasped, her breathing accelerated, and her fingers flexed around his. He hurried across the sidewalk, checked for traffic before crossing the street. His blood was pounding through his head, blocking coherent thought before swarming down to harden his cock. There was a real danger that they might not make it to an alleyway, much less the shadows.
He finally found the perfect place, a narrow opening that led them back to a deep, double-sized doorway. He jerked her against him and attacked her mouth again. Nothing seemed to exist for him but her. Nothing was more important than sinking inside her, feeling her come around, hearing her lose control.
When she pushed at him, it took a few seconds for the action to register. He tore his lips from hers and stared down into her precious face. She looked dazed, wild, and confused.
“Clive, we can’t…we’re in public.”
He gave her a wolfish grin and rubbed his cock against her. “I know we are.”
Her eyes went wide, her mouth slightly slack, before she let out a quick breath. “Oh.”
And then they were at each other again. He bit and she bit back. He sucked on her tongue, and she sucked back. Her breasts were crushed against his chest, the soft curves of her lush body quivering underneath her coat. He cradled her head in one hand, his fingers tangling in the soft waves. His other hand was anchored on her ass, squeezing and caressing.
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She moved restlessly against him, making hot little mewing noises in his mouth. She was ready, he knew she was, and God knew he was so close that he was in pain. He quickly moved his hand from her bottom to her thigh, lifted it to hook it around his hip, and ran his fingers along the soft flesh.
“Thank God you wear thigh highs,” he managed, then fell back into the kiss.
He brushed his knuckles against the crotch of her panties and growled when he felt the moisture soak through. He ripped at the scrap of material, tearing the edges away to expose her. He cupped her wet lips in his palm, massaged her earnestly, and swallowed her gasp, He knew she was ready. The thrill of daring, the tantalizing idea of being in public, added a sweet edge to the passion. She felt it just like he did, and he was glad for it. Some women might have been hesitant, but not Kate. Never Kate.
With hurried fingers, he fumbled his zipper down, trying to be careful not to catch his erection. When he was finally free, he spun her around and pressed her against the metal doors. The idea that they could be caught was a strong aphrodisiac, which made the thought of sex just that more appealing.
“Hold on to me,” he rasped.
Holding on, she clung to his shoulders as he lifted her. She instinctively wrapped both legs around his waist, and he moaned at the heat that soaked through his jeans. She eased toward him as he positioned them. A moment later, she was sliding down his shaft, enveloping him with the fire of her tight, slick walls. He stood, sweating despite the cold, and let her adjust to him.
He wanted to let her set the pace. He could feel how swollen she was, how the little quakes inside her were building. Her body would know the best way to move to take her to her orgasm.
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Then she moved her hips and his good intentions dissolved like rock in lava. His need sizzled and popped like sap in a fire. There was no controlling it, no way to bank the inferno that was burning him alive.