Mistletoe Hero

was too alert now, too aware of the sensual softness of her, the crush of her breasts against him, the teasing scent of her shampoo. The kisses they’d shared earlier came back to him in excruciating detail.

He fidgeted, restless and trying to get more comfortable as his arousal spiked to new levels.

“Mmm.” Arianne burrowed closer, and he almost laughed. How could she feel so addictively good yet be torturing him at the same time?

The phone shrilled, and Arianne’s eyes popped open, going wide as they met his. “Oh!”

He suspected that if there were enough light in the room he’d be watching her blush.

She started to roll away, but he hugged her first, just long enough to let her know he wasn’t sorry she was there. When their gazes locked again, she no longer looked embarrassed at finding herself sprawled in such a position. Shadows fell across her features, but he could sense a new emotion in her. Dare he hope, desire?

He slid his hands from her back down to the curve of her butt. She moved against him, the friction overwhelming, even through his jeans.

“What about the phone?” she whispered, propping herself on one elbow.

The phone was the least of his problems. He wanted-needed-to kiss her again. But they weren’t in Mistletoe town square now. They were alone in his bed. If they got carried away by the same passions they’d kindled in each other earlier, there was no question of how this would end. He would make love to Arianne Waide.

And then what? His conscience tried to make itself heard over his libido. Gabe’s only affairs in the past decade had been with women who either lived in neighboring towns or women who, like Nicole, wouldn’t be in Mistletoe long. Arianne would probably be here for the rest of his life. What kind of bastard would seduce a woman like her, then leave without a backward glance? While Gabe thought Shane McIntyre was largely a horse’s behind, the man had been accurate when he said Gabe wasn’t worthy of her.

“Gabe?” His name was a husky caress on her lips.

“You were right,” he said halfheartedly, dropping his hands to his sides. “I should get the ph-”

“It stopped ringing.” She used his horizontal position to mitigate the difference in their height, moving up to nip at his neck and then his bottom lip.

His body tensed in piercing pleasure. “Arianne-”

“Kiss me,” she said against his mouth.

God, yes. “Wait, I-”

She froze. “I’m so selfish! I’m hurting you, aren’t I? Is your vision still blurred?”

How could he tell? He was nearly cross-eyed with lust anyway.

“You aren’t hurting me.” At least not in the way she meant. “But you don’t know me well enough to do this.”

“Shouldn’t I get to decide that?” She poked him lightly in the chest.

“Not if you don’t have all the facts,” he countered.

Shushing his protests, she pressed two fingers against his mouth, then drew them down so that her index finger slipped between his lips. He sucked on the tip, reveling in the way her breathing sped up. Arianne was never shy about expressing herself. Making love to her would be-

“I know enough,” she pledged, swiveling her hips so that she was astride him. “And I want you.”

He surprised a gasp out of her when he pushed himself upright, gathering her to him for a searing, openmouthed kiss that burned away the last of his qualms. Plunging his fingers through her hair, he slanted his mouth over hers. The clip she’d been wearing clattered to the hardwood floor and long blond waves fell forward, curtaining them.

Arianne burned with need. No one had ever kissed her like this. She felt dangerously, exhilaratingly out of control. She was greedy for more, wanted to explore the hollows and planes of his hard body. She started to pull back so that she could remove his T-shirt, and gasped when the motion rocked her against him, the sensation so exquisite that she rolled her hips a second time with slow deliberation.

He swore softly, then grabbed her waist, hauling her to him and kissing her breathless. Somehow he managed to unbutton the top half of her long shirt using only one hand, shoving the material backward so that it dropped away from her body. The cool air was a sensual balm against her overheated skin. Under the lacy cups of her bra, her nipples beaded into tight points.

She was unprepared for Gabe to roll them over suddenly, pinning her beneath him. Should a man with a head injury be moving so qui-? Oh! She inhaled sharply as he kissed her through the lace. The pleasure was nearly unbearable-she couldn’t tell if she wanted him to keep going or if she needed a second to catch her breath.

Almost as if reading her mind, he gave her a moment’s respite, stopping just long enough to pull his shirt over his head. Wow. Even in the darkened room, she could appreciate how his well-muscled arms tapered to a movie-screen-worthy chest and a stomach indented with a straight line down the middle, ringed with the faint outline of abs. Next to that kind of physical perfection, Arianne should probably feel self-conscious about how rarely she exercised, but instead the only feeling she experienced was giddiness at the thought of being able to touch him.

She trailed her fingers over the flat dip of his navel, toward the waistband of his jeans. Her fingers shook as she undid the button and the zipper. Gabe held himself as still as a predatory cat right before it pounced.

When she rubbed him through the cotton of the boxer-briefs, his head fell back, his expression strained and indefinably erotic. “Arianne.”

He said her name like a pagan prayer. He made a pilgrimage of her body, worshipping with his hands and his lips. Her denim capris and then her bra vanished beneath his expert touch. By the time he slid a finger over the satiny material between her thighs, she was practically writhing with need. When he opened the nightstand drawer to get a condom, she almost sobbed with relief, long past ready to take him inside her.

She stroked him one last time, guided him to her center, her body bucking upward when he thrust into her. He braced himself above her, his muscles rigid with exertion as he watched her. She met his gaze as long as she could, until the intensity became too much, and she had to look away as the tremors built inside her. She closed her eyes, spasmed around him and let go, the ripples escalating into shock waves. Gabe finished with a wordless shout, then rolled flat onto his back, reaching for her hand among the tangled sheets and blanket. They lay there panting with their fingers entwined.

When Arianne noticed that he was pressing his temple with his free hand, she experienced a twinge of contrition. “Are you all right?”

“I could use some more of those pills,” he admitted. “Other than that, I’m perfect.”

Yes, you were. “I’ll be right back,” she said, shrugging into the shirt she’d worn earlier. She padded down the hall to the kitchen where she scooped the acetaminophen off the counter and poured a glass of water for Gabe. Standing in front of the refrigerator, she realized that she was famished.

“Thank you,” Gabe told her when she returned. He’d flipped on the nightstand lamp, the soft golden glow bathing his skin.

She dropped the pills in his palm. “It’s the least I can do.” What had she been thinking, attacking a concussed guy? This probably had not been what the doctor had in mind when he’d instructed her to wake Gabe every few hours and check for a response.

“I only hope I didn’t do you irreparable harm,” she said ruefully.

A smile flirted around the corners of his mouth. “If you did, I forgive you. It was worth it.”

She sat next to him, tucking her feet under her. “Any chance you’re hungry? We never did have lunch, and I’m pretty sure we missed dinner, too.”

He paused, as if taking stock. “Earlier I was nauseous, but now that you mention it, I’m starving.”

“I could make us dinner,” she volunteered, the offer making her incongruously bashful. The man had just seen her naked, but there was a different kind of intimacy in fixing him a meal in his home. It just felt so uncharacteristically domestic. “Although I should warn you, I’m not a very accomplished chef. My mother, bless her heart, tried to teach me, but I always wanted to be playing basketball out on the driveway or riding bikes with my brothers.”

“Arianne, right now, you could serve me a burned grilled cheese sandwich made with stale bread, and I’d still think you were a goddess. The problem is I doubt I have much in the way of groceries. I stock up on the weekend and had planned to go later today.”

She considered this, too hungry to get dressed and drive into town in search of sustenance. “Well, there’s ice