to spend the day reading, chopping wood or watching television.
However, his plan to reconnect with Alexandra Cole thwarted the inclination to fall back into what was familiar when he packed enough clothes for a two-week stay in the Capitol District. And he never questioned or second-guessed himself once heâd checked into the Hyatt.
Sharing dinner with Alex had become an enjoyable event. Her exquisite culinary skills were only surpassed by her delightful companionship. Dinner had begun with shrimp cocktail with a piquant cocktail sauce, a salad of endive stuffed with lump crabmeat, marinated pork tenderloin stuffed with spinach and corn bread. A pale blush wine had become the perfect complement to the differing flavors that had lingered on his palate.
Heâd offered to help her clean up, but sheâd refused with the excuse that she didnât like anyone in her kitchen. It was apparent she liked being in control.
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Alex walked into the living room to find Merrick stretched out on the rug in front of the fire, his head cradled on folded arms. She smiled. Heâd truly made himself at home.
Closing the distance between them, she lay down beside him. She didnât have time to catch her breath when he reached out and pulled her into an embrace. Shifting to her right, she rested her head on his shoulder as if it was something theyâd done countless times before, feeling safe, protected in his arms. His warmth and the lingering scent from his cologne urged her closer.
âItâs still snowing,â she said softly. Sheâd turned on the under-the-counter television in the kitchen to the Weather Channel; the snow totals for the D.C. region had surpassed fourteen inches.
âWeâll probably get two feet before itâs over,â Merrick drawled, not opening his eyes.
âI hope youâre not thinking of trying to make it back to your hotel tonight.â
He opened his eyes. âItâs not that far.â
âItâs too far for you to walk in a blizzard, Merrick. I have a spare bedroom. Youâre about the same height as my brother Jason, so you wonât have an excuse that you donât have anything to wear.â
He chuckled softly. âYouâre the second woman within the span of a week who has invited me to stay with her.â
Alex went completely still, her heart pounding a runaway rhythm as she held her breath until she felt her lungs burning. Had Merrick lied when he told her that he wasnât involved with a woman?
âYou stayed with a woman in Florida?â
Tightening his hold around her waist, Merrick pulled her closer to his length. âItâs not like that, Ali. Rachelâs someone I used to work with. She threatened me with bodily harm if I didnât check out of a Key West hotel and stay with her.â
Some of the tension left her. âWhat did she threaten to do? Shoot you?â He nodded. Tilting her chin, Alex stared up at Merrick staring down at her. âWould she have shot you?â
âOf course not. Why are you taking what Iâm saying so seriously?â
Vertical lines appeared between her eyes. âItâs just that I donât need some crazy-ass woman looking to cap me because she believes Iâm hitting on her man.â
âThat will never happen because Iâm not involved with anyone. Tell me how it was growing up a Cole,â he asked, deftly changing the topic.
âThat all depends on which Cole household youâre talking about. I believe mine was the most unconventional. My uncle Martin is rather traditional, and so are his children. My aunts Nancy and Josephine were raised believing they were Afro-Cuban royalty, so they passed their values down to their children and grandchildren. The Cole-Thomases and Wilsons have this air of entitlement that can really work my nerves. My uncle Joshua is quite conservative, but that comes from a career in the military.
âPerhaps
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