Free The Christmas Bride by Heather Graham Pozzessere

Again he offered her every escape.
    â€œI know.”
    â€œIs it the champagne?”
    â€œIt helps, I’m sure,” Cary admitted.
    She felt him stiffen. He would walk away now, if she chose. But she didn’t choose. She moistened her lips and tightened her arms around him. “Please…” she murmured.
    He didn’t make her say more. They stepped from the Jacuzzi and walked across the pool area to a door that led to a private stairway. It led, she realized, from the pool area straight to his bedroom.
    One light was on. It cast a soft, dim glow over the black comforter that covered the large bed, the mountain prints on the wall, the black and brass and glass of the furniture. Cary saw very little of it, for she kept her gaze on Jason McCready, on the green eyes that remained locked with hers. She shivered suddenly, violently, for despite the heat indoors, she had come wet from the Jacuzzi into the air, and now her flesh was chilled. Not for long. For when he had laid her down, he covered her with the warmth of his own form. His kiss seared her with heat again, and his caress became a touch of fire.
    Once more, his gaze caught hers, and he offered her a last escape. “Will you stay?”
    She wanted to speak, but she couldn’t. She nodded, closed her eyes and wound her arms around him, burying her face against him.
    â€œOpen your eyes,” he commanded her, drawing her away. And she did so, meeting his gaze. “Tell me that you want me. Say my name.”
    â€œI want you.”
    â€œMy name.”
    â€œMr. McCready.”
    â€œMy first name!” He laughed, and she smiled.
    She managed to whisper, “Jason. I want you, Jason.”
    Then he asked nothing more of her, and the magic began.
    He touched her…just where she longed to be touched.
    And he kissed her…just where she longed to be kissed.
    Fires rose in the night, the flames sending little licks of sensation to tease and torment and bring sweet pleasure to her. She saw his eyes in the dim magical glow of the night. And she saw his hands, so bronze, so large, so masculine and wonderful, against the pale hue of her own flesh.
    And she kissed him. Touched the bare skin of his shoulder with the tip of her tongue, just as she had dreamed of doing.
    It had been so long. So achingly long…
    And what he offered her was good. So beautifully, perfectly good.
    For he made love. He took nothing that he didn’t give. He demanded; he shared; he held her; he caressed her. He touched her…so tenderly. And so passionately.
    Almost as if he could love her.
    And when the sweet whirl of heat and fever rose from pitch to pitch, when the cascade of need and hunger and wanting came swirling to a peak, it burst upon them both with a volatile climax.
    The sensations were so strong, so sweet, that Cary’s world went black. And when the light came again, she was still trembling, still drifting. Held in his arms, she shook time and time again with the aftermath of pleasure.
    And shock.
    It wasn’t that she was suddenly horrified by what she had done. She had done it with her eyes wide open.
    But she had done it without thinking. And though she still lay in his arms with the soft glow of the night a sweet shield around them, the garish rays of daylight would come streaking down upon her tomorrow, and she would have the future to live with.
    She bit her lip, thinking that her suit was lying by the bed. Was there any way to slip into it without feeling awkward? Should she say thank you very much what a wonderful time and try to slip casually to her own room?
    Good God, how could she ever go to work again? She had to quit! Unless he fired her. No—it was getting so close to Christmas. She couldn’t quit. Danny wanted a computer.
    She was thinking about a computer at a time like this?
    She started to move, but his hold on her tightened. “I—I have to go back,” she said in near panic. “Danny