Free Just Curious by Jude Devereaux Page A

room seemed very far away.
    As he pulled her down to his level, as his face came next to hers and as his lips touched hers, he whispered, “Kids. Christmas. You know how they are.”
    â€œI was an only child. I had breakfast before opening my presents.”
    â€œMmmmm,” was all he said as he kissed her, kissed her warmly, softly.
    With the touch of his lips it was as though time fell away: to be in bed with a warm, sleepy man as he pulled her into his arms felt so very familiar. And so very right. It was easy to slide down so her body was stretched alongside his, to slip her arms about his neck and return his kiss with all the enthusiasm she felt.
    Suddenly, the door flew open and in rushed two kids holding toys aloft, brandishing them over the heads of the couple in bed. Bewildered, Karen pulled her face away from Mac’s and looked up at the toys the children were waving in the air. The girl had a Barbie doll in an outrageous dress with a handful of accessories worthy of any call girl, while the boy held a box full of trains.
    In spite of this confusion, Mac was still kissing her neck while Karen was half on top of him and trying to look at the children’s new toys.
    Before she could make a suitable comment, because Mac was kissing her throat, a third child came tearing in through the open door with an airplane in his hand, whereupon he crashed into the other two children and sent them flying. Everything—dolls, trains, children—landed on Mac’s head.
    Instantly the little girl started screaming that her doll washurt, while the two boys tumbled to the floor in a fistfight over who had pushed whom. Getting out of bed, Karen scrambled to find the missing pieces belonging to the toys, but it was several minutes before she could find everything and get the children settled.
    â€œWait,” she said to Mac as she picked toys out of the covers, “there seems to be a red high heel in your ear.”
    â€œIt’s not the first time,” he muttered, annoyed that the children had interrupted them.
    Giving him a quelling look, Karen rounded up the children and pushed them out the door.
    Once they were alone again, Mac put his hands behind his head and watched her move about the room as she gathered her clothes. “Our kids will have better manners.”
    Karen was looking for her belt. “I hope our kids are just as happy and excited as they are and that they—” With a red face, she broke off, glanced at him lying there, grinning at her, then she scurried into the bathroom to get dressed.
    But Mac bounded out of the bed and caught her before she could close the door. “Come on, Only Child, you’re going to miss all the fun.”
    â€œI can’t go downstairs in my nightgown and robe!”
    â€œEveryone else will be,” he said, pulling her, grabbing a T-shirt as he passed a chair.
    Mac was right. Downstairs under the Christmas tree was chaos, with an ocean of torn wrapping paper and children everywhere. Adults were sitting in the midst of everything, exchanging gifts and laughing—and ignoring the children as best they could.
    â€œAh, the lovebirds,” someone called. “You’d better get over here and see what Santa brought you.”
    â€œBy the looks of them, I think Santa’s already delivered,” someone else called, making Karen drop Mac’s hand, which she had been holding rather tightly.
    It didn’t take her long before she plunged into the middle of the paper and the people, and sat on the carpet beside a red wagon with a ribbon tied about its handle. She was pleased that no one had yet opened the gifts she and Mac had purchased and she could have the pleasure of seeingtheir faces. However, she was surprised when people began heaping gifts into her lap. Each one had a tag telling who had given her the gift, but when she thanked them she saw a look of surprise on their faces, then they’d glance at Mac.
    It