The Holiday Hoax
Page 4

Aidan remained quiet, but his fingers reached out to snag hers. The comforting warmth settled the memories and she pushed on. “We began to seriously date. His name was Mike, and I fell pretty hard for him. I was fine with taking it slow for the first few months, but then I realized he still hadn’t introduced me to his family. Kept me away from most of his friends. He’d whisk me away for romantic weekends, or late evening dinners, but we never did the ordinary things that couples usually do when they’re building a relationship. So, I began getting suspicious. Thought maybe he was cheating on me. Even asked if he had a wife.”
Isabella shook her head. “He denied it all. One evening, he made excuses why he couldn’t go out and said he was sick. Said he didn’t want me to come over, just wanted to sleep. I decided to drive over to his house. Imagine my surprise when he came out dressed in a tuxedo.”
Aidan winced. “This doesn’t sound very good.”
“Gets better. I followed him to an extremely lush country club. Hell, I couldn’t even get through the gates. I ended up spying through the bushes like a cheap tramp while I watched him mingle with his family and close friends. When I left, I realized there was a huge part of him I hadn’t even known existed.”
“What happened?”
Isabella sighed. “I confronted him the next day with the truth. He looked devastated, and finally confessed. He was an up-and-coming executive in his father’s business, and his family owned half of Wall Street. Seems there were only certain women good enough to be his wife. Women of breeding, power, elegance, money.” She fought the dark spot on her heart that still ached at not being good enough for someone she loved. “But not me. My family was poor and I didn’t even have a real job.” She shrugged. “I just wasn’t worth the fight to him. My heart was broken, and in a way, I understood. So, I came home.”
The comforting warmth of his hand on hers suddenly turned. Fire simmered along her nerve endings as his grip tightened. She caught her breath as her belly dipped, then his hands slid into the heavy length of her hair to gently tug her head back. Her neck arched. The delicious scents of coffee and male hunger rose to her nostrils, and Isabella realized she wanted him.
“He was an asshole,” he growled against her lips. “I’d fight for you.”
Then his lips took hers.
This time, he claimed her mouth like a marauding warrior bent on capture. His tongue swept in and took over, stroking every dark, wet crevice. The hard length of him pressed against her thigh, and his obvious arousal caused a fierce satisfaction to course through her, urging her on. She met him stroke for stroke as her arms wrapped around his shoulders and hung on. Her nipples rose and tightened against her sweater, and with a low groan, he slipped one hand out of her hair and under the soft fabric.
The breath hissed through her lips as his fingers tugged down her bra to cup her bare breast, his thumb urging her nipple to tighten further. Isabella fought the drowning waves of heat and dug her nails into his shoulders. Mindless pleasure drove her on, and she offered herself up to him, moaning as he stroked her breast with knowledgeable fingers.
His teeth nipped at her swollen lower lip as his thumb teased the turgid nub. Round and round he circled her nipple, then carefully grasped the peak between his fingers.
And tugged.
Fire speared straight down to, and burned between, her thighs. “Aidan!”
He shuddered in her arms. Then with slow, deliberate movements, he removed his hand and eased down her sweater. Amber eyes burned with lust and determination as he stared into her face. “I want you, Isabella. But it’s too soon. I want you to trust me.”
She realized in that moment she would have regret sleeping with him this first night. Who was this incredible man who knew more about her in a few hours than most men she dated? He could have swept her into the bedroom and she wouldn’t have denied him. Instead, he delayed his own pleasure for her trust.
Isabella reached up and traced the strong line of his jaw. The words ripped from her throat. “Thank you.”
A smile touched carved lips. “Welcome. But I don’t think I could do it again.”
She laughed and tried to change the subject. “You heard my sob story. What about you? Where did you grow up?”
His face drained of emotion. She blinked at the sudden change and he shifted in discomfort. “I grew up in the city,” he said carefully. “I never had a choice, though. I finished college and went straight into the family business.”
“What does your family do?”
Another uncomfortable pause. “They own a restaurant.”
Isabella wondered why he seemed a bit nervous. “There’s much more pressure on kids when their parents already have their life set up for them.” Her gaze probed his, searching for answers. “Did you leave the business? Is that why you’re now doing odd jobs, trying to find what you really want?”
He opened his mouth and Isabella felt like he was going to say something important. Instead, a flash of grief shone in his eyes, then was quickly gone. “I can never leave the business. I’m only taking a break for a while.”
She let his words settle, then reached out and took his hand again. His warm skin closed around hers and chased away the cold. For some reason, he battled some demons and needed time. Isabella went with her gut that told her he’d tell her the truth when he was ready. “Then you’ll just find your way.”
He pulled her close. Tucking her body against his, he put his arm around her and they watched the lights on Charlie Brown twinkle as the snow fell outside.
Isabella knew something had happened tonight. Something wonderful.
She hugged the thought tight and gave herself up to his embrace.
****
Isabella glanced at the door nervously, then chastised herself for even thinking he’d come. The few men she’d dated in her past steered clear of anything to do with her classroom or extracurricular activities. This included, but was not limited to, tricky trays, penny auctions, and recitals. But the number one event to avoid at all costs occurred once a year. Tonight.
The Christmas pageant.
A tiny part of her completely agreed it was almost masochistic for a man to actually attend when he had no children on the stage, but Izzy believed this was a precursor to a good father. Also a great excuse to end a relationship that bordered on the line of boring. Like she’d done twice before.
Nope. Aidan Hunter probably talked a good game, but he’d never appear. He’d cite work, family emergency, or a hair washing, then maybe offer dinner at a later date. She couldn’t even blame him. Heck, if she wasn’t friends with Liz, there’d be no way she’d volunteer to corral sixty five-year-olds to put on some form of a decent production.
“Miss Summers, my wings broke!” Ava broke into tears and showed a torn wing. Izzy grabbed the ever present box of tissues and mopped up her face, then whipped out a safety pin.
“All fixed, sweetie. Now go with Mrs. Johnson, we’re lining up.”
She brushed the sweat from her forehead, grabbed two small stragglers, and urged them up to the stage. A shepherd’s staff rammed into her head, and she tripped on a fallen angel. Izzy grit her teeth, fought past the pain, and got them all lined up in a halfcocked way.
Liz gave her a thumbs-up signal. Izzy looked around and quickly flashed her the finger.
Her best friend hooted with laughter, and Izzy climbed down the stage to block the right corner. Her job now consisted of pulling off crying kids, whispering forgotten lines, and making sure no children made a break for it.
God, she needed a drink.
She turned the corner and rammed into a solid wall of carved muscle. Hard hands grabbed her upper arms and righted her. She opened her mouth to firmly chide the straggling father, but the words died on her lips.
Amber eyes speared hers. Thick blond hair fell over his brow and she reached up without thinking to push it back. Her fingers tingled at the silky feel of the curl, and she yanked her hand back as if burned.
He smiled down at her, took in her disheveled appearance, and God bless him, still looked interested. “Hi,” he said. “Were you gonna yell at me?”
Izzy grinned back. “Yep. What are you doing here?”
He frowned and looked adorably confused. “I’m sorry. Didn’t you invite me to the play?”
“Yeah. You said you’d try to make it, but that’s always code for you had to cut your toenails tonight.”
His eyes sparkled with humor. And heat. “Damn, that’s sexy.”
She pursed her lips and lowered her voice. “I got much more in my arsenal. Watch out.” A tiny toddler waddled over, diaper hanging, and she scooped him up without blinking. “Ooops, a runaway. Where’s Mama?”
The toddler stuck a drooly hand and grasped a loose curl. “Eeeee!”
Izzy sighed and wished for a wet wipe. Damn, that was sticky. His mother flashed in front of her and she handed him off without pause. “I can’t believe you came,” she said again. Izzy blushed. God, she was lame. Now she sounded as if she was so desperately happy that a man showed up. Not cool. “I mean, it didn’t matter, but I’m happy to see you.”
“Didn’t matter?”
Her blush deepened. “I mean—”
Aidan grabbed the sticky curl. “I’m just teasing you, Ms. Summers. I had such a good time the other night, I wanted the chance to check out your school. See you in action. As long as you promise not to yell at me again.”
Giddiness skipped through her body. She actually believed him. Her gut screamed he wasn’t coming to the play just to sleep with her, but that would’ve been fine too. Because she wanted to sleep with him. Eventually.
“Thanks,” she said softly.
“Can I take you for something to eat afterward?”
Izzy nodded. “Yes. On one condition.”
“Name it.”
“The restaurant must supply wine. I’m going to need it after this.”
On cue, the auditorium darkened and the spotlight focused on the stage. Aidan bent toward her. The delicious scent of lemon and soap teased her nostrils.
“Done,” he whispered in her ear. “I have one condition myself.”
“I’m a flexible woman.”
“Dessert must be included. Hopefully something chocolate.”
In that moment, her heart melted.
A man who loved sweets was at the top of her list in qualities needed in a mate.
She nodded her assent, and turned toward the stage.
As the children began to sing “Silent Night,” and the energy of love in the crowd pulled to her, Izzy clasped her fingers within his and felt as if she was finally home.
Chapter Three
Two weeks later, they stood together and took in the scene before them. “Are you sure about this?”
Aidan looked down at her face and fought back his instinct to throw her in the snow and ravish her. Cheeks pink from the cold, aqua eyes bright, a frown marred her brow as she took in the giant hill before them. The sounds of screams and laughter echoed through the air.
Instead, he chucked her under the chin and issued his challenge. “You’re not scared, are you?”