Bedding Down, A Collection of Winter Erotica (4 page)

cuse me? Aunt? I didn’t think you girls had any family attending the wedding.”

Susannah was still smiling when she sailed out the front door

with Liz’s car keys in hand. There was two inches of snow on

the ground and the heavy, low-hanging clouds promised more

of the same. She shivered from the chill, but even the lack of a proper coat couldn’t dim her good spirits. Her smile faded the

minute she saw Derrick’s car pull up in front of the house. He

got out and walked toward her, looking heartbreakingly sexy in

a gray wool coat over a crisp white shirt and black trousers.

“I’ve been thinking about you all night,” he said, his words

falling as softly as the snow.

“I’m sure,” she said, brushing past him. “Have a good day.”

He caught her by the arm and pulled her around to face him.

“What’s with you?”

She stared at him as if he’d lost his mind. “What’s with
me
?

Do you remember last night?”

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His thumb rubbed her forearm and, even through her blouse

and leather jacket, she shivered at the familiarity of his touch.

“Of course I remember. Why do you think I’m smiling?”

he asked, his voice low and seductive. “Judging by the smile on your face a minute ago, you remember, too.”

“I wasn’t smiling about that,” she said, though part of her

wondered if he was right. Were those few stolen moments with

Derrick what had put her in such a good mood? She wanted to

believe it was because she was getting away from him for the rest of the day, but she wasn’t so sure.

“I’m sure,” he said mockingly, as he released her. “Where are

you off to in such a hurry?”

“The inn. Liz needs me to hold down the fort there while

she takes care of things here,” she said, the normalcy of their conversation feeling surreal. “What about you?”

She could have kicked herself for asking, especially when he

smiled that all-too-familiar feral grin.

“Why? Want company?”

“Hell, no,” she said. “I’d rather be alone.”

He shrugged. “Have it your way. I guess I’ll hang out here

and make ribbon bows with your sister.”

“Aren’t you helpful?” Susannah couldn’t keep the snide tone

out of her voice. It was jealousy, she realized with a jolt—pure, raw jealousy that Liz would get to spend time with Derrick

while she was alone at the inn.

“Not really,” he said, turning on his heel. “The crinkle of the ribbon will remind me of last night on the couch.” Susannah

stared after him until the front door closed behind him. Despite the cold, she felt warm in a place she had thought had long since frozen over. Her heart.

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*

*

*

Six hours and several frustrating conversations later, Susannah decided being the batty old aunt was overrated and becoming

a wedding planner was definitely not a viable career option for her. The florist had arrived with the wrong flowers, followed by several out-of-town guests who seemed to think Susannah was

their personal tour guide. She tried to explain she hadn’t lived in Minerva in several years and no, she did not know the best place to get coffee or quiche or the latest best seller. Thankfully, the innkeepers were there to take the pressure off her and leave her to sort out the floral mess while she figured out a way to tell Liz that her white roses were peach and the greenery she’d ordered

had turned brown.

The worst part was that the snow was coming down harder,

and by five o’clock, there was a good four inches on the road

with no sign of it stopping. The picturesque setting the coun-

try inn had presented for a late fall wedding now seemed omi-

nous and reminiscent of a Stephen King novel. Minerva had

one snowplow, and it was unlikely it would make it out to

the two-lane road that led to the Calloway Inn. Liz had cho-

sen the inn for the reception because the public rooms were

large enough to accommodate a wedding reception and the

Methodist church where she and Brad were getting married

was less than a quarter-mile away. Of course, in order to get

married and have a wedding reception, there had to be a bride

and groom and wedding guests and Susannah was starting

to think it was going to be her and Brad’s extended family

celebrating alone.

She was staring out the picture window at the steadily falling

snow when her cell phone rang.

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“Hey, big sister,” Liz said brightly when she answered. “The

flowers get there okay?”

Susannah thought of the beautiful sprays of flowers that were

now tucked away in the inn’s refrigerator. Flowers that weren’t exactly the right color and surrounded by brown leaves. She

could fix the greenery, but she was hoping Liz would overlook

the mistake with the roses. “They’re here and awaiting your ap-

proval. When are you getting here?”

There was silence on the line and Susannah thought she’d

lost signal. “Liz?”

“I’m here,” Liz said. “Listen, don’t be mad, okay?”

Susannah could feel a headache beginning directly behind

her right eye. Nothing good ever came out of Liz saying, “Don’t be mad, okay?” It was a phrase dating back twenty years when a

three-year-old Liz had cut the hair off Susannah’s favorite doll, thinking it would grow back.

“What, Lizard?”

Liz made an indignant sound. “Don’t sound like that. It’s not

that bad. It’s just that I won’t be out there tonight.”

“Oh, that’s fine,” Susannah said. Though she’d promised Liz

a girls’ night, the wedding was going to take every ounce of energy she had and she was leaving on a red-eye for Seattle as soon as the reception was over. “It’s cozy here. Just me and Brad’s

little old aunties and the neighborhood ax murderer taking ad-

vantage of stranded, snowbound women.”

Liz laughed. “Okay, now I feel guilty. But there’s one other

thing . . .”

Susannah didn’t need Liz to tell her what the “one other

thing” was because she could see Derrick’s black BMW pulling

up the long, snow-covered drive.

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“Liz,” she said, putting as much ominous threat into that one

syllable as she could muster. “What’s going on?”

“He’ll explain,” Liz said quickly. “Bye.”

Susannah was still staring at the blank screen on her cell

phone when the front door opened and Derrick came in, a dust-

ing of snow on his shoulders and in his dark, tousled hair. He

carried a box filled with white lace bows.

“Let me guess,” she said dryly. “You volunteered to deliver

the bows.”

Derrick didn’t crack a smile. “I had absolutely no desire to

come out in this mess, but Liz asked me and I couldn’t very well say no.”

Disappointment, sharp and painful, lodged behind her

breastbone. “Okay, fine. Give them to me.”

He held onto the box as she reached for it. “I can help you,

Susannah.”

Whatever response she might have thrown back at him died

on her lips when she saw his expression. She kept trying to

force him into the mold that her memory clung to, but he just

wouldn’t fit.

She gave him a grudging smile. “Fine. I need to decorate the

tables in the great room and cut some greenery before it gets

dark.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Greenery?”

She explained about the mishap with the f lorist and

glanced past him. It had gotten late. “I guess I’ll go do that

now.”

He put the box on the floor in the foyer and opened the door.

“I’ll go with you.”

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“It’s okay,” she said. “I’ll be fine.”

“Susannah,” he said, and it was almost a warning. “I’m
going
to help you.”

She shrugged and carefully made her way down the long

drive with Derrick trailing behind her. She veered off onto the snow-covered lawn, kitchen shears in hand, and began trimming

branches from the evergreen shrubs that lined the drive. Silently, she handed them to Derrick, who bundled them together. They

worked quickly as darkness fell until Derrick finally stopped

her.

“I think we have enough,” he said from behind a wall of green

foliage.

She laughed. “Sorry, I got carried away. I hope the Calloways

won’t notice.”

He held out an elbow for her to hang onto as they picked

their way over the slick, uneven ground and back to the inn.

“Don’t worry. By the time they notice, you’ll be long gone.”

Something about the way he said it made her pause. She

looked up at him in the near darkness, seeing the snow glint-

ing on his hair and eyelashes, and her heart ached. “There’s no reason to stay,” she said.

“Isn’t there?”

She shivered, unable to respond. Afraid to speak, to hope.

“C’mon,” he said, giving her a little nudge with his elbow. “It’s cold out here. This weather is crazy.”

She looked up at the overcast evening sky and laughed as the

snow continued to fall. “It’s winter, Derrick. It shouldn’t be, but it is.” She laughed, feeling something cold and tight loosen inside her. “It makes me think anything is possible.”

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He followed her into the inn and back to the kitchen, where

Mrs. Calloway had left a pot of coffee brewing for them. Der-

rick hung up their coats and put their wet shoes by the back

door while Susannah deposited the greenery in the refrigerator

along with the rest of the flowers. The tables could wait until the morning. What she was feeling—and the look in Derrick’s

eyes as he leaned against the counter watching her—wouldn’t

wait for anything.

“Want some coffee?”

He shook his head. “I could go for something a little

stronger.”

She pulled a bottle of champagne out of the refrigerator. “I’m

afraid this is as strong as we’ve got.”

“I guess it’ll have to do,” he said, his gaze unwavering.

She blushed, though she didn’t know why, and turned her

back on him to look for champagne glasses. With a trembling

hand, she poured the champagne and handed him a glass. She

cocked her head to the side, eyeing him speculatively.

“What should we toast?”

He clinked his glass to hers. “To possibilities.”

“To possibilities,” she said, with a nod.

The champagne was sweet and cold. She shivered, still chilled

from being outdoors, and met Derrick’s steady, uncompromis-

ing gaze as she licked her bottom lip. Anticipation hung heavy

in the air like the scent of evergreens.

They drank their champagne silently, facing each other like

they might dance—or duel—at any moment. She refilled their

glasses a second time, her hand brushing his wrist as she poured.

He was warm, so warm. She put the bottle on the counter a

little harder than she intended and the sound jolted her.

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“Nervous?” he asked. She shook her head. “Why would I

be?”

“Because you know it’s time to deal with this thing between

us.”

She laughed, but it sounded high-pitched and shrill. “This

‘thing’ is just sexual tension. If we slept together, it would fade away.”

“Is that what you really think?” He put his empty glass on

the counter and stared at her. “One night with me and that look in your eyes would be gone?”

His confrontational tone made her feel rebellious. She nod-

ded. “Absolutely.”

“Fine, then,” he said, taking the glass from her hand and put-

ting it next to his. “Let’s test your theory.”

“I’m married.”

“My body doesn’t care about marital status, does yours?”

She shook her head, her pulse jumping as he wrapped his

fingers around her wrist and pulled her toward the stairs. Still, she hesitated. “That’s it? One night?”

He looked down at her, his eyes reflecting her image. “One

night, Susannah,” he said. “You can go back to Seattle tomor-

row and forget all about me.”

One night. All night. It would be enough. It had to be.

Chapter 4

“No more games,” he said, once the bedroom door closed be-

hind them.

“No more games,” she agreed, as she helped him strip off

his shirt. She’d had enough games. What she wanted was pas-

sion, passion with Derrick. All the passion she remembered and

more. Enough passion to get her home to Seattle without feeling any pain.

“I’m glad we agree,” he said, amusement lacing his voice. “I

thought I might have to remind you how amazing it can be

between us.”

She looked up into his eyes, trying to keep her gaze from

reflecting her real emotions. “I had good intentions of turning you down,” she said lightly.

“The road to hell is paved with good intentions, babe,” he

said, slipping his fingers under the waistband of her pants and into her panties. “Let me show you the way.”

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She gasped as his fingers found her clitoris, plump and wet

beneath his touch. “I’ve always had a pretty good sense of direction. Maybe I should take the lead.”