Christmas Eve (16 page)

With Croupier practically applauding and cheering Eve on, Nick handed the piece to her.

She took only a moment to fit the piece into place, then slid off his lap to place both feet on the floor. Standing, she leaned across the table for a better view.

His wasn't bad either. Eve in all her glory. Now he better understood Adam's fall from grace. Croupier was doing "up periscope," in an unsuccessful attempt to locate Eve.

Patience. I'll get her back for you.

"Nick, look! Does this picture make any sense to you?"

Standing, he leaned around Eve for a closer look. "No, I don't see a surprise, either."

"All I see is what may be arms and legs, but those seem to be upside down," Eve complained.

"Maybe..." Nick bent over the table, then swallowed a smile. "Let's have a look from the other side." Barely able to keep a straight face, he unbent, tugging Eve's hand.

Like an innocent lamb she followed him around the table and stopped when the rest of the puzzle was upside down and the contents of the picture frame the only part right side up.

"Now." He stood back, giving Eve first look.

She bent to study the picture more closely. then.

"My. Word." She jumped back with a shocked expression

Nick bent double, the laughter he'd been holding back shaking him.

"They're... Did you... I can't believe anybody would..."

Eve continued to sputter, clearly shocked at the obscene position the three oriental lovers in the framed picture had struck.

Once her initial dismay had worn off she asked, "Your...
secretary
gave you this?"

"That she did. Ruth is full of surprises."

"Where did she... No, don't tell me." Eve covered her eyes. "I don't want to know."

Nick had hold of his control by a slender thread. The position of the lovers, his conversation with Eve, but most of all her bare butt swishing back and forth against his naked thighs and
other
parts of his anatomy had him so horny he could barely stand erect.

She studied the puzzle a long moment. When her shocked gaze shifted to him, his breath caught in his throat.

"Nick." The quiet word wavered. "Can a couple really—"

He grabbed her hand and raced with her down the hall, so randy he feared he would explode the minute Eve locked her ankles around his neck.

"I have no idea. Want to find out?"

Chapter Fifteen

Seated in front of his laptop, enjoying his second cup of coffee the following morning, Nick rubbed his forehead, wishing now that he had stayed in bed, too. Most days he took pride in beating the sunrise, but for once, he would have liked to wake after Eve. See what she'd do and say. See how she'd look.

He jumped when the phone rang, then grabbed it, not wanting Eve's sleep interrupted. He'd disturbed her rest plenty during the night.

"Hello." He kept his voice low.

"I'm calling from Sunset Gas and Tires. Someone at this number still in need of a tow?"

"That's right." Nick glanced out the window for the first time since it had grown light. The bright sun glared off the melting snow, hurting his eyes.

"Tow truck's on the way."

The sudden buzz of the dial tone startled Nick. He thoughtfully cradled the phone, lifted the coffee cup to his lips. He had dressed in jeans and a warm sweater before leaving his room at dawn, in anticipation of the tow truck's promised arrival. Now, he strode to the kitchen to retrieve his boots.

He was tying the last shoestring when he heard the loud squeal of truck brakes. Grabbing a coat and Eve's car keys, Nick hurried out.

"Morning." A cloud of mist rose with that softly spoken word. The truck driver looked around, clearly puzzled. "My name is Chuck. I was told your car slid in the ditch."

"It's in the ditch that parallels the driveway next door." Suddenly all business, Nick was anxious to get this over with and go back inside to Eve. "You might want to take a look first and decide what's the best way to go about this."

Chuck eyed him curiously. Nick didn't give a damn. He doubted there was another car like Eve's still on the road and nothing was going to happen to her priceless classic. Not while he stood watch.

The driver walked around the hedge and stopped dead in his tracks. "Whooeee," he said. "Is this baby real?"

"As real as they come. I'm surprised it's not already in some antique auto museum." Nick allowed his own admiring gaze to lovingly survey Eve's car. "So, can you get it out of that ditch without scratching the paint, or should I call someone else?"

Chuck paced to the front end of the car, studied the width of the drive, compared it to the width of his truck, then ran hands stained by motor oil through his hair.

"Well... it would be better to pull it out the way it went in, but this drive is way too narrow. There's not room to drive the truck around to the front end without risking scraping the fender."

"And if you fasten a winch to the rear axle, you'll drag this dandy car right through that row of bushes before you get it back onto level ground," Nick finished. "So... What
do
you suggest?"

"This baby doesn't look all that heavy. Why don't we try pushing it out?"

"My idea exactly. Come on. Let's get it back on the road."

Nick unlocked the car and carefully opened the door. Chuck's grin grew even wider as the entire driver's side swung up and winged out.

Grinning to himself, Nick released the brake. Then he shoved the shift into neutral, reached up and rolled down the window so he could get his hand inside to turn the wheel after he closed the door. "I'll take this side. Here, your hands look greasy. Put on my gloves and let me know when you're ready to push."

After a cursory glance at his motor-oil-enriched hands, Chuck slipped on Nick's gloves, then made his way to the back of the car. "Okay, push."

Chuck's feet slipped in the deep snow, but the car didn't budge, and he stomped his feet. "Okay, again."

The little Mercedes creaked. Moved an inch. Rolled back.

"Again, harder."

Nick pushed with all his might , while yanking the steering wheel to the left with one hand. Slowly, the front wheel returned to the drive and he jerked the steering wheel back to the right. The car leveled out. "Hold it. That's good," he yelled.

Chuck brushed snow from his pants with a gloved hand, then stripped off the gloves and returned them to Nick. "You want to start the motor and make sure this baby's battery has a charge before I leave?"

"Yeah, I thought I'd move it into my drive."

"Good," Chuck said, his grin wide. "I'll watch."

Nick smiled to himself in anticipation as he climbed in and pulled the door closed. He inserted the key in the ignition and, with a slight turn of his hand, was rewarded with the engine's quiet purr. Backing out, he made sure to stay clear of the ditch on either side.

As he parked Eve's car in his drive, he enjoyed a momentary swell of pride. If only it
were
his, every man's dream. He carefully set the brake, rolled up the window and stepped out.

"Can you charge this trip to my card instead of the lady's?"

"Sure thing."

Nick remained in Eve's car until Chuck brought him the completed work order to sign.

Chuck would probably have helped push for nothing, just for the opportunity of touching Eve's car
. Nick gave him a healthy tip anyway.

Back inside, Nick dropped Eve's keys on the table, his mind still on her car as he returned to the dining room where he'd left his work.

Unless she had been a kept woman, mistress to some old geezer now deceased — Nick did not want to even consider that possibility — he could not imagine how Eve came to possess that car.

He knew of at least ten private collectors of classic cars who would gladly fork over a small fortune just to sit behind the wheel.

Eve interrupted his thoughts as she walked in at that moment, wearing a wide smile and one of his shirts. It ended right about where heaven began and Croupier unfolded like he was taking flight.

Nick locked his appreciative gaze on her firm thighs. "Your car is now safely parked in my drive."

"Thanks. Have you been up long?"

"Long enough to have coffee ready. Want some?"

"Is that all you're offering? I'm starved."

Reaching out, Nick wrapped his arm around her waist and as she stood, pulled her close for a lengthy kiss. "Mmm, you feel good. I'll see what's left in the refrigerator."

"Brrr." Eve shivered. "Your hands are like ice."

"Sorry. For your vehicle's protection I loaned the tow truck driver my gloves. Come on, let's stir up some chow."

Once in the kitchen, Eve headed for the sink. Nick opened the refrigerator door and set out a sealed container of sliced fruit. He turned back just as she reached for the soap.

The hem of her shirt crept up, giving him a tempting glimpse of her butt.
Wouldn't take much effort to shove that damn shirt aside to reveal the rest
.

But if he did, they'd never eat. "Want eggs?" His words were choked.

"Do you like French toast?"

"Sure." His hesitation made Eve laugh.

"Why don't I cook?" Moving to stand beside him, she nudged him aside, then bent over in search of the eggs on a lower shelf.

The tail of her shirt slid higher, revealing temptingly curved buns. Nick's temperature shot up at least ten degrees. Maybe more.

He sucked in a breath. Heat flowed throughout his body like warm honey. To keep from dragging Eve back to his lair before breakfast, he rammed his hands in the pockets of his jeans.

"Bread?"

Eve's question brought an end to his heated fantasies. "In there." He indicated a bread drawer, then set the table.

She found the griddle — a search that to his delight required another deep bend —then began cracking eggs into a bowl.

He liked the whipping part best. While adding milk, Eve stirred the eggs briskly with a fork, making her butt shimmy beneath the shirt. He saw no need to look away.

Turning, she gave him a funny look. "Plates?"

Had she guessed the direction of his stare?

He readied two plates and watched as Eve dipped thick slices of bread into the egg mixture, then slipped each onto the heated griddle. His fingers curled and uncurled and his mouth felt dry.

"Wh-what else can I get for you?"

"Syrup. Butter. Warm the syrup in the microwave if you like. Twenty seconds. And would you mind filling my coffee cup?"

"As long as you give me time to fill mine, too." Nick started the syrup heating, poured steaming coffee into their cups, then turned back for another tempting eyeful of Eve standing at the stove.

He set her coffee on the counter beside her, then resumed his appreciative observation. She juggled her coffee mug, a spatula and the dripping bread in a kind of sensual ballet that went straight to his head. And his easily excited glands down south.

Alive with desire, he pondered the possibility of taking Eve right where she stood, then thought better of it. Instead, he grabbed the bowl of fruit, flatware and napkins to make ready for their soon to be hot-off-the-griddle repast. Not as much sensory fun as watching Eve, but she needed to eat. He needed her strength, her endurance in his bed. "Do you want to eat in here?"

"Yes. I need to be near the stove, you might want more."

She had
that
right. He set the breakfast bar, then topped off her cup while she stacked French toast on his plate. Her plate held only two slices.

"I thought you said you were hungry?" he said, removing the syrup from the microwave before he sat down.

"This is just a starter. I'll make more." He watched as she drizzled syrup over her slices and dug in like some half-starved animal denied food for a day.

Nick grinned. "Good appetite. I like that." He doused his own food with syrup, then heaped fruit onto his plate. "Want some?"

"Not yet," she said around a bite.

For the next few moments he heard only the comforting clink of forks and knives. Then Eve leaned back with a satisfied sigh.

"That was good, even if I was the cook."

"Ready for that fruit now?" he asked with a laugh, offering her the bowl.

She spooned a healthy serving onto her plate. "Want me to put more on the griddle for you?"

"Stay where you are. I think I can do it. I've been watching you."

Oh, yeah. Really watching you
. He slid off his stool and turned the gas back on under the griddle.

Dipping the bread was the easy part, he discovered. Getting it to the griddle without making a mess was hard. How had Eve managed? His short stint in the hotel kitchen had taught him how difficult food spilled on a hot stove was to remove.

After a moment, Nick turned the egg-saturated bread over and looked up in time to catch Eve watching him. His body tightened. Every muscle he possessed grew painfully hard. He couldn't remember a woman ever affecting him the way Eve could.

His French toast began to steam. Nick knew just how that bread must feel. He felt as if Eve had struck a match to his heels.

He transferred the food to their plates and returned to his seat at the bar, his need for food overridden by the overwhelming desire to take the bewitching woman beside him into his arms.

Fighting the urge, he gripped his plate instead. What the Hell had come over him? It seemed he couldn't allow an hour to tick by without needing to make love to Eve.

"Nick? Is something wrong?" As she set down her fork, her slender fingers touched his. Nick's tenuous resistance crumbled like dry sand.

Damn, he thought, but by then Eve was already in his arms. He carried her back to the rumpled bed, laid her gently on it, then stripped off his clothes. Watching him with a trusting look, her cheeks warmed as he unbuttoned her shirt.

He took her hard and hot, delighting in her small cries of pleasure. She met each thrust with her own, reached her peak and moaned. But as she milked the last drop of semen from his body, he was surprised to discover tears running down her cheeks.