Holiday Man (15 page)

Shannon was surprised by how many there were, despite the fact that they’d only gotten together in person on scattered holiday weekends. But it was amazing how fast you could get to know someone if you were motivated…

Or, at least,
think
you’d gotten to know someone.

Nervousness made her almost turn away, but Bram was quick to open the door. Too quick.

“Hi,” he said, his voice deep and husky, his eyes trained on her face. His white dress shirt was unbuttoned all the way down the front, and his feet were bare below his black slacks.

“Hi,” she whispered back.

He motioned her inside the room. “What have you got there?”

Lost in the intensity of his stare, she’d almost forgotten the basket she was carrying. It was a gift of sorts, being that tonight was Christmas Eve and all.

“A present for you,” she replied, setting it down in a nearby corner. “For later.”

One of his dark eyebrows rose to mid-forehead and a smile tugged his lips upward. He closed the door behind them and then nodded at the table closest to the bed, where a gift-wrapped package sat prettily in wait.

“Got one of those for you, too. Thought we’d save it until Christmas morning, though.” He took a step toward her and pulled her into his arms with a smooth, proprietary movement. “Unless—well, unless you aren’t planning to be here then.” His voice held an unasked question.

She met his gaze and held it. “Bram, my plan was to stay with you tonight. Unless, of course, you’d rather—”

But he cut her off, blanketing her mouth with a kiss so passionate she felt its heat singe her toes.

Shannon wrapped her arms around him, underneath his open shirt so she could run her palms against his bare skin, and let herself be consumed by the flames of their reunion.

“That’s all I needed to know,” he said in her ear, a moment before he stripped off her red wool sweater and divested her of her bra, her skirt and her panties, too.

She, in turn, tugged off his dress shirt and got as far as unfastening his belt before his impatience got the better of him. He relieved her of that task, finishing it himself with a rapidity approaching the speed of light.

And before she could blink, he was on top of her. His bare chest against hers. His lean legs entangled with her own. Their lips and tongues connecting in a dance that merged their whole bodies together.

Shannon’s breath caught when he entered her with a graceful but powerful thrust. It felt destined for them to be as one. Like the fit of two interlocking puzzles pieces. And, yet, it was unsettling, too. She had already lost all notion of where her flesh ended and his began. More than ever, it felt dangerous to have her boundaries disintegrate like this. To have no control in his presence. No tangible sense of self. He effortlessly rendered her immobile, dependent and fuzzy-brained from lust.

Well, no.

It had become more than lust.

There was admiration, affection, respect, friendship and other qualities present there as well. Maybe it was too soon to confess to being in love with the man, but what Shannon felt when she was around Bram was far more than mere infatuation.

As much as she was thrilled by their physical compatibility, it was that rare feeling of oneness and contentment that he brought out in her when she was in his arms that challenged her the most. It convinced her that, for the first time in her life, she may have actually found The One.

Unfortunately, it was at exactly the time when, more than anything, she needed to be independent and unencumbered.

***

It was sometime after midnight when Bram awoke, having just had, perhaps, the best make-up sex of his life, followed by the deepest post-coital nap. But he wasn’t above doing it again a time or two before daybreak, just to make sure he’d really and truly reached a personal record.

One thing, though, kept nagging at him about the make-up sex—and it wasn’t the sex part that was cause for concern. He and Shannon still hadn’t spoken a word to each other about the Halloween blowup. It was this massive white elephant in the room, which might as well have been sitting on the loveseat like a gigantic Christmas present with a big red bow on its head.

The more Shannon avoided discussing the incident with him, the more worried about it he became. Not that he’d actually given her much of a chance to talk about anything that night.

“Hey,” she said, flipping toward him and smiling sleepily. “You’re up.”

He nestled against her, letting his hard shaft nudge at the space between her legs. “You could say that.”

She laughed. God, he loved that sound.

“You’re insatiable, Mr.
Hartwick
,” she murmured, but she didn’t pull away. One of her hands snaked around his hips and began to trace patterns on his butt cheeks. He felt himself getting even harder.

He moaned, but another involuntary sound competed for attention in their bed. The distinctive rumbled of his stomach. He hadn’t eaten in hours.

“Hey, you’re hungry,” Shannon said, pulling back. “We should get you some food.”

He tried to protest so he could keep her next to him. “Oh, no. You’re plenty delicious, Miss Quinn.” He sent her a wolfish grin and licked his lips. “I’ll make a meal out of you.”

She chuckled in return but, nevertheless, managed to escape his grasp. He watched as she slipped out of bed and padded naked across the room to the place she’d left her basket. Retrieving something from it, she returned, glanced at the clock and then offered him the wrapped object.

“Merry Christmas,” she said.

He took the proffered gift. “Thank you.”

Shannon motioned for him to open it. “It’s part one of your present. The edible part.”

He made quick work of ripping off the pretty gold paper and uncovered a sturdy cake box. When he opened the box, he found it contained a dense but delicious-looking confection. Familiar somehow, but in the dark he couldn’t easily place it.

“It’s from that Eastern European bakery we went to when we were in Madison,” she explained. “I special ordered it for you. Maybe you’ve had something like it before, but I thought it was interesting. It’s called
Cesnica
—the Serbian Christmas or ‘Money’ bread. There’s a silver coin baked inside, and it’s considered good luck to whoever finds it.”

Bram unwrapped the bread, broke off a piece with his fingers and took a healthy bite, chewing carefully to make sure he didn’t swallow a coin if he should happen to come across one. “
Mmm
,” he murmured. “It’s good.”

Then he broke off a bite-sized piece for Shannon and trailed it along her lower lip until she opened up for him. The look of delight on her face as she chewed was too much for him. He had to do this again.

He fed her another bite and another. She finally responded by pushing him down on the bed and dropping soft bread morsels into his mouth as she kissed his face, his jaw, his neck.

Then he got the brilliant idea of scattering breadcrumbs on her chest and devouring them one at a time—“I’m Hansel, you’re Gretel,” he murmured, “and this is the breadcrumb trail in the deep, dark forest”—but she returned the favor with such devilish enthusiasm that it made him pant with a different kind of hunger.

Her clever tongue caught bits of bread on its way to licking his torso clean. But he wasn’t done feasting on her yet, and it was he who finally found the lucky silver coin in a hunk of crumbled bread, somewhere in the region of her bellybutton.

He laid the coin on her heart. “I don’t need a token to tell me I’m a lucky man, Shannon. I already know.” Then he dipped his head to taste more of her—a part of her body that looked inviting enough for a banquet.

And so they played.

Bram thought if he could just keep her right here, in this very spot, he could make her happy forever. Was it too much to hope she’d want that, too?

***

Christmas morning was off to a rushed start as Bram watched Shannon hastily put on her clothes from the day before and smooth down her auburn hair with a grimace.

“The brunch begins in about an hour,” she told him. “I have to run back to my room to shower and dress, but I hope we can spend some time talking later today.”

“Hey, I’ll be here relaxing all week long,” he said with a contented grin, brushing away a few breadcrumbs still hiding between the sheets. “I’ll look forward to having you to myself again soon, but I’m not sure if I’ll make it down to the brunch. I’m still full from eating all of that Christmas bread.”

She laughed and sat beside him for a moment at the edge of the bed. “There’s another gift for you over there.” She waved her palm toward the basket. “You can open it up this morning, if you’d like. Sorry I have to leave so soon.”

“Don’t worry about it. I know it’s your job.”

A look of sadness crossed her face that Bram didn’t quite understand.

“I have something for you, too, before you go, and I’d really like to give it to you now,” he added, reaching across the bed to the table on the other side. He plucked up the wrapped package and handed it to her.

She pulled off the paper to reveal a full
Lathericious
gift set—shower gel, refreshing body mist, luxurious hand lotion and scented soap.

He waited and watched as she read the name of the fragrance, her eyes widening. “Bram, it says—” She pointed to the label.

“Shannon’s Gift,”
he supplied for her. “Yes, that’s what it’s called. It’s our brand-new bath and body line, named specifically for someone I know…”
And love
, he almost added, but he stopped himself just in time.

Her eyes grew even bigger. “Oh, Bram! You mean this wasn’t just a special label you put on these four items. That there’s
more
of them? And other people can order them, too?”

He got out of bed, hunted down his briefcase and pulled out the December
Lathericious
catalog. The “Shannon’s Gift” line was featured prominently on the cover. He handed it to her.

“I’ve been working on this for about six months, Shannon. And, yes, other people can order these specialized products. In fact, about 500,000 units shipped internationally just last week.”

She looked stunned but impressed. He grinned as she squirted some of the body mist into the air and inhaled deeply, taking in the aromatic citrus-ginger scent that had been the special blend he’d requested.

“
Mmm
…thank you. I love it,” she said.

“And I love
you
,” he whispered. He hadn’t meant to say the words aloud but, somehow, they slipped out anyway.

She stared at him with those huge blue eyes. Never had his heart been on pause like it was in that instant. He’d been in countless tense business situations—where one word would make the difference between sealing a multimillion-dollar deal or losing it—but this single silent moment was harder on his nerves than any of those had ever been.

Then he heard her voice.

“I love you, too,” she murmured, but she looked more melancholy about it than thrilled.

Never mind. He could be happy for the both of them. He pulled her into his arms, kissed her passionately—his heart finally beating again—and said, “That’s good news, right?”

She shot him a weak smile. “Right.” Then, “I should really go—”

But he didn’t want to let her go. Not now. Not yet.

“How about I open up your second present real quick? Then I’ll let you leave me to my quiet room and my breadcrumbs,” he joked. “There’s still forty minutes before the brunch.”

She nodded but eyed him apprehensively as he tore off the wrapping paper and unearthed a box beneath. The words “fragile” were written in big letters on each side of the box.

“I remember getting the edible gift last night, so I’m guessing this one is
not
edible, eh?” he asked with a laugh, opening up the top of the box and studying its contents with some puzzlement.

It was a vase. A very familiar-looking one.

He pulled it out in surprise and delight. It looked just like that beautiful, curvy, stained-glass vase that was in the inn’s display cabinet downstairs. “You found another one,” he exclaimed. “Did you have to go to an antique shop in New York to get this one, too?”

She shook her head. “It’s not a different vase. It’s the same one my parents bought. You said you thought it belonged elsewhere, in a private home. Maybe above the fireplace. Somewhere more personal than the hallway of an inn,” she reminded him. “I loved your idea, and I wanted you to do that with this vase.”

Bram didn’t entirely understand. “But this is special to you. You can’t just give it to me—”

“Of course I can,” she said with a gentle smile. “What else could I give the man who has everything?” She paused. “Besides, I want it to have a good home. The Bakers are going to be putting other items in the display case soon, so the vase had to come out anyway.”

He was getting more confused by the second. “The Bakers? Why are
they
decorating the case now?”

He saw Shannon take a shaky breath.

“They’re the new owners of the inn, Bram.” She squeezed his hand but, then, abruptly stepped back. “I sold Holiday Quinn to them. They’re officially taking over by the end of next month…and I’m leaving.”