Man Under the Mistletoe Page 9

  “Common sense should tell you that.”

  “So it’s not actually policy? So actually I can do anything I damn well want.”

  Unrestrained anger flared in his eyes. “How did Perry manage to make it in on time? Or perhaps you got stuck with the breakfast dishes. A friendly word of advice—English men aren’t terribly liberated.”

  She clenched her hands until the nails dug into her palms. “Before you go any further, you’d better get your facts straight.”

  She was shaking with emotion as she turned to go, then abruptly turned back. Her pride wouldn’t let her refute the accusation, but she couldn’t walk away without telling him how wrong he was. Despite everything, it still mattered what he thought of her.

  She strode around the table and jabbed at the polished surface. “And just for your information, I don’t make a habit of going to bed with men I’ve only known for a day.”

  “Then where the hell was he all night?”

  He leaned toward her, only inches away, the heat from his body wreaking havoc on her. She felt utterly defeated by her response to him, despite everything. She felt like bursting into tears, but she’d rather be drawn and quartered than show that kind of weakness.

  “You’ll have to ask Perry,” she said quietly. It wasn’t until this moment that she realized he must have stayed with Anya.

  The sudden silence seemed to reverberate with her words as he stared down at her.

  “You know I won’t do that.”

  “Why?” she asked acidly. “Would that be a breach of some gentleman’s code of honor?”

  “Something like that” came the terse reply.

  “Oh, I see. You won’t insult Perry by giving him the third degree, but I guess I just don’t matter.” The tears burned hot behind her eyes, and she struggled to fight them back. She snapped her fingers in his face. “Well, that’s how much I care about your stupid code!” Her vision blurred as she snapped her fingers again. “And that’s how much I care about you!”

  She began to spin away from him. The next thing she knew his fingers had curled around her upper arm in a painful grip and he was pulling her toward him. She struggled to get away, blinded by tears, but his lips came down hard on hers. It took less than a moment for her anger to change to a burning, overwhelming desire that made the hands that had tried to push him away curl into his chest.

  She thought he whispered her name against her mouth. It sounded like a plea, but she wasn’t sure—the sound of her own heartbeat was drowning out everything else.

  At the very first touch, her body caught fire. With a little moan she opened her mouth to his, moving closer, molding herself against the length of him. He gave a deep, shuddering sigh as his arms went around her, lifting her almost off her feet

  He lifted her higher, kissing the line of her jaw, her throat, rapidly descending until she felt his mouth hot and feverish on the swell of her breast through the silk blouse.

  “If only you knew,” he groaned, “how often I’ve dreamed...of you, like this....” With a frustrated moan he lowered her until she stood on tiptoe, and sought her mouth again. “And more,” he murmured against her lips, pulling her tightly to him while his mouth ground against hers, hard and hungry, almost punishing.

  Nothing mattered now but Michael, his hot, demanding mouth on hers filling her with a heady, intoxicating lethargy.

  Arms wrapped tightly around him, she clung to him, feeling the muscles of his back under her hands, sensing the restraint that battled with his hunger. She returned his kiss with a matching need and passion.

  His hands ran over her, arousing every sensitized inch of her body. His lean fingers kneaded her breast through the silk, ran down her back to cup her bottom and pull her closer. She could feel him against her stomach, and a moist, demanding pressure surged between her thighs, urging her against him. She ached to feel him closer, harder and more completely. She wanted everything.... She reached down and ran her hand over his arousal.

  He went very still, closing his lips against hers. A sickening, painful jolt shot through her and she strained away from him.

  Slowly he lowered her to her feet. She stared at the buttons on his crisp white shirt, unable to look at him, painfully conscious of his tension, his stillness. Ever since they met she’d been playing with fire, and she only had herself to blame for what had happened.

  “Sabrina.” His voice was low and strained, but in control.

  “Please, Michael, don’t say anything.” She moved away, casting a quick glance at his face to see a dull red staining his cheekbones. “And you needn’t be afraid I’ll start yelling sexual harassment.”

  “Please. I’ve regretted that stupid accusation ever since I uttered it.”

  “That’s a relief. So that’s the end of that. There’s nothing more to say.”

  “No, damn it!” He closed his eyes and took a deep, shaky breath, then opened them and frowned at her. “What happened between us a moment ago—”

  “Should be forgotten,” she interrupted, “and the sooner the better.”

  “It’s not that simple.” He let out a frustrated sigh and turned away from her, smoothing a hand over the short hairs on his nape. Her lips trembled to caress the spot. “I thought I could keep this attraction under control.”

  His low words made her stomach muscles clench in a painful knot. “Don’t blame yourself. It takes two hands to clap.”

  He spun around. “It would spell disaster for both of us if we allowed ourselves to get...involved.”

  “I agree.”

  “The reason I’ve steered clear of involvements of any kind is because I don’t know of any woman who would willingly take a back seat to my job. Unless you’re interested in a one-night stand, which I don’t think you are, I suggest we don’t take this any further.”

  “You’re right.” Her voice sounded surprisingly calm, betraying little of her pain and turmoil churning. And she could add a few reasons of her own why anything between them could never work.

  They had nothing in common, except this mutual physical attraction. They came from two different worlds. She already knew that she wouldn’t be satisfied with just sex, and more than that, she couldn’t have.

  He watched her for a long moment, a distant frown in his eyes, his expression unreadable. “I’m glad we see eye to eye on this. Makes life so much less complicated, don’t you agree?”

  “Yes.” She gave him a numb smile. He was attracted to her, but only in the physical sense. “Now if you don’t mind, I’ve got stacks of work waiting for me. I’d better get to it.”

  “Me, too.” He gave her another long searching look, and holding it was the hardest thing she had ever done. “Perhaps it would be better for you to consult with Jonathan from now on, if you have any questions about these new display ideas. It would make things much easier.”

  “Yes, I agree.”

  She turned to leave. Yes, it would make things easier, but not seeing him, not having the chance to be close to him for even a few fleeting moments, would be heart wrenching.

  She made it back to her office, locked the door behind her and flung herself into the chair. Sinking her head on her hands, she finally let the hot tears flow.

  This must be what it felt like when your heart was breaking, she thought. And she couldn’t bear it. She had fallen in love with Michael Worth.

  5

  THAT EVENING, Sabrina walked slowly down her quiet tree-lined street in the warm summer breeze, paying scant attention to the familiar sight due south—the wooden boardwalk, the swathe of sand and then the glittering blue of Lake Ontario.

  She had been lost in thought as she came home from work on the streetcar, to her pleasant Beaches neighborhood in the east end. Again and again, she replayed those moments in the boardroom and came to the same conclusion: she was in love.

  As she drew closer to her tiny redbrick duplex, she was surprised to see Colin sitting on the porch. He spotted her and came bounding down the steps.
<
br />   “Hello, Colin. What are you doing here?” She smiled up at him, seeing him somehow differently now. He was Michael’s son. And being in love with Michael made Colin even more precious to her.

  “I’ve been waiting for you.” He grinned, vibrating with pent-up excitement. “Aren’t you going to ask me why I’m here?” Colin shifted his lanky frame from foot to foot, obviously so excited, he could hardly keep still.

  “I did, but I’ll ask you again. What are you doing here?” She smiled at him with an indulgent surge of affection.

  “I’ve got a surprise for you. Come and see.” He grabbed her arm.

  “Hey, easy on. That arm happens to be attached to the rest of me.” With a good-natured laugh, she pulled out of his grasp.

  “I have a surprise for you that just can’t wait. Please, Sabrina.” He tugged at her hand impatiently.

  “Okay.” She grinned. “What have you got to show me?”

  Colin pulled her a little farther along the sidewalk, then stopped. “Well?” He stood back with a satisfied smile curving his lips, like the cat who’d got the cream.

  “Well, what?” She stared at him, mystified.

  “Well...do you like it?” He beamed from ear to ear and patted the roof of the green Miata parked in front of his black Porsche that was a present from his indulgent grandmother.

  Sabrina glanced at the little sports car, then turned back with a smile. “It’s very nice.”

  He stood grinning at her for a moment as if he were about to explode with excitement. “Well, it’s yours!”

  He dug into his pocket and pulled out a set of keys, dangling them in front of her.

  Sabrina could only gasp. “What?”

  “It’s yours.” His eyes bright and expectant, he waited to enjoy her reaction.

  “What do you mean, it’s mine?” A sick churning began in her stomach.

  “That’s my surprise. I bought it for you.” He took her unresisting hand and led her around to the front. “See!” He pointed proudly to the license plate that read SABRINA.

  “You bought it for me?” She gaped at the plate, horror-struck.

  “Uh-huh. Do you like it?”

  Maybe this was all a bad dream. Aghast, she shook her head for a moment. Colin grinned, immensely pleased with himself. Only his action of pressing the keys into her hand finally galvanized her into speech.

  “No.” She threw them back as if they were red-hot. “Colin...” She put a hand to her brow, not even sure where to begin.

  “What’s the matter, Sabrina?” His smile faded as he began to look baffled. “Don’t you like it? If you don’t like the color, we can trade it in for—”

  “No!” She took a deep breath to calm herself. “It’s a terrific car. The color’s fine.” She stared helplessly at the expression on his young face, confusion vying with a heart-wrenching expectation of approval. “This is a very sweet gesture, but I can’t accept it from you.”

  “Why not?” The excitement slowly died in his eyes.

  No matter how much she hated to hurt his feelings, this had gone too far. It was vitally important that he understand, and there was only one way to do it.

  “Colin...what you have for me is a schoolboy crush—nothing more, nothing less.” She knew how much this would hurt him, but it had to be said. “One day you’ll look back and wonder what you ever saw in me....”

  “That’s not true!”

  “To make any more of it than that is nonsensical.” She persevered, keeping her tone as ruthlessly cool and matter-of-fact as she could make it.

  He didn’t reply for a moment, looking past her to stare fixedly down toward the lake as raw pain filled his eyes. She ached for him, but it had to be done this way.

  Finally he said with quiet dignity, “I’ll call the dealership and get them to come and pick up the car.” She could hear the effort it took to keep his voice from quivering. He slid into the front seat of the Porsche and picked up the car phone.

  Right now it didn’t help to know that she’d tried everything else. Her heart ached for his wounded pride, and she worried about the damage to his fragile ego. But he would get over it, and probably sooner than he thought at the moment.

  After a brief conversation he stepped partway out of the car and leaned an elbow on top of the open door. He refused to meet her eyes, except for a brief glance.

  “The guy will be here this evening to pick it up, but they can’t send anyone until after ten.”

  “Thank you,” she murmured gently. “You know, it was a very sweet thought, even if I can’t accept it.”

  Now he did meet her eyes. “I just thought it would make you happy.”

  He looked so hurt and dejected that she felt like comforting him with a hug, but instead she said softly, “Just being friends with you makes me happy.”

  He swallowed hard and his eyes were moist as he gave a wry little smile. “What did you have to go and say a thing like that for? Makes it hard for a guy to hate you.”

  A little relieved, she laughed softly, “I’m glad to hear that.”

  He stood there a moment longer, his expression strangely old on such a young face. “You’re also a difficult person to love.”

  He got in and drove away, leaving her standing on the sidewalk looking after him. It was only when the black car turned onto busy Queen Street and finally disappeared that she walked up the steps.

  She hated having to hurt him, remembering all too well how painful a teenage crush could be. Still, she had managed to survive her own adolescent traumas, and tried to cheer herself with the thought that Colin would, too.

  * * *

  SITTING ON THE TOP STEP of her front porch, Sabrina sank her chin on one hand and stared at the small, green car gleaming in the dusk. The sooner it was gone, the better.

  From somewhere down the street came the sound of Edith Piaf’s throaty voice. The scent of roses hung on the balmy evening air and a few houses down, beyond the boardwalk and the strip of beach, the newly risen moon hung swollen and golden over the lake.

  But she couldn’t even take any pleasure in the incredible beauty of the summer evening.

  This whole business with Colin had left her with a heavy heart. He would get over it, but it worried her that he didn’t have any close friends he could talk to, and he certainly wouldn’t talk to Michael.

  All this could only further complicate her feelings for his father, feelings she hadn’t even got used to herself. Conflicting impulses and emotions spun crazily round and round in her brain until she felt overwhelmed and heaved a deep, dejected sigh.

  Why did life have to be so complicated? No, her life had become complicated, in a way it had never been before. She gave another sigh and turned a little to lean back against the porch pillar.

  Down the street on the nearly empty boardwalk a few couples strolled hand in hand, and beyond the beach the lake shimmered in the moonlight. She tried to let the peace of the evening calm her.

  A car pulled up at the curb, the soft purr of the engine ceased, but she paid it little attention until the door slammed. Turning her head, she saw with a shock that it was Michael. Abruptly she stood up, helpless to keep the excitement from building inside as he walked toward her.

  “Good evening, Sabrina.”

  He paused at the bottom of the path and looked up at her. Only the glow of the lamp in the living room window illuminated the dusky porch. His white shorts and T-shirt gleamed softly in the deep twilight.

  “Michael...?” She felt suddenly uncertain as he remained silent. The smile of welcome died on her lips.

  He ascended the steps until his face was level with hers and then she saw a hardness in his expression that made her stomach tighten into a painful knot.

  “I apologize for this late visit but I needed to talk to you and I took a chance that you’d still be up.” The chill formality in his voice made her shiver.

  “Shall we go inside, then?”

  As she began to turn away, he put a hand on her a
rm to stop her. The feeling of his strong, hard fingers on her skin made another kind of shiver go racing through her body.

  “No. I can’t stay long.”

  He could feel her trembling as she slowly turned toward him, and he quickly released her arm. Damn Colin. Damn this whole bloody situation.

  She took a seat on the top step, clasped her hands between her knees and stared out at the street. He sank down beside her, all-too-aware of the heat of her body next to his, her delicate fragrance on the warm night air.

  He wanted to take her in his arms, feel every inch of her soft body pressed against him once more. He wanted to carry her inside and make love to her and then he wanted to do it all over again and to hell with duty.

  He gritted his teeth till his jaw ached. He had to forget this morning, forget how she made him feel.

  “Sabrina, I want you to leave my son alone.”

  He spoke quietly, then turned to look at her, his face as implacable as granite.

  “I’m afraid I’m putting this very bluntly, but try as I might, I couldn’t think of any other way to say it.” His remorseless gaze remained fixed on her. “I want you to end your association with Colin.”

  It wasn’t that she didn’t understand the flat, ruthless statement, but she couldn’t quite prevent herself from echoing him. “My association?” Surely this was a bad dream and she’d soon wake up.

  “Okay...your friendship.” He spoke with impatience and stood up, dusting off his white shorts, every line of his lean body hard with tension and strain.

  She rose to face him. “What’s this all about, Michael?” She didn’t mean to plead, but she couldn’t believe they were having this conversation. “Look, if it’s about the car...”

  “It’s not just the car,” he burst out harshly, then stopped, as if searching for control. Moving a few paces away, he leaned on the porch railing to look out onto the street. “Even a little encouragement is all a teenage boy needs to—”

  “Just a minute!” She stepped toward him, feeling the first traces of anger. “I haven’t been encouraging Colin. You should know that.”