The Billionaire's Christmas Desire
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“Enough of this,” he said. “Let’s break. I’ll go lift weights and do what I can do without involving my foot. We have treadmills or the track. Or an exercise bicycle. Nigel will be there because if any of us lift weights, he appears. He doesn’t want us alone if we’re working out with weights. That’s a long-standing rule and he walks around the track, which is probably good for him. If you prefer, you can sit in the family room and have a lemonade or a cup of hot tea or anything else you want.”
“Enough choices,” she said, putting down a letter. “I’ll change quickly and get on a treadmill. I’d rather sit on the terrace after work.”
“Good enough. See you in the gym.”
She left him, hurrying upstairs to change.
If only Zach felt about holidays the way Nigel felt about working out. That one shouldn’t go it alone.
With Nigel walking on the indoor track, Zach hoisted a bar, lifting it high and lowering it slowly when he saw Emma enter the gym. He set the bar in place and wiped his forehead with a towel while watching her. She wore blue shorts and a blue T-shirt that revealed lush curves, a tiny waist and heart-stopping long legs.
She smiled and waved, going to a treadmill to start it.
He should have let her go back to Dallas. She was a great secretary, as well as pure trouble. Their kisses were dynamite and the last kiss—when she wanted to prove their kisses couldn’t be called casual—had ignited fires that still blazed. Her sudden kiss had shocked and electrified him. It had been a spunky, devil-may-care, I’ll-show-you challenge that he would never have expected from her. If he could have burned to cinders from a kiss, he would have with that one. His reaction had definitely not been casual and she knew it. She had more than proven her point. She had driven it home with a wrecking ball.
She had a backbone and he suspected she was as strong-willed as he. Not his kind of woman in any manner except physically. She had been aghast over his plans for a solitary Christmas. He would bet the ranch he hadn’t heard the last on that one. She would want to take him home with her for Christmas. The whole thing would be humorous and he could ignore it easily, except she was getting to him in a manner he hadn’t thought possible. The hot kisses he had labeled “casual” blasted his peaceful life with constant fantasies about holding her and making love to her.
He wasn’t concentrating well on his work. It took real effort to avoid eating lunch or dinner with her. He had offered this exercise time when he should have left the office, worked out with only Nigel and let her continue with her secretarial duties. Common sense said to either practice more self-control or get rid of her.
His lusty body just wanted to seduce her.
Frustrated, he returned to working out.
At one point he paused, glancing over to see Emma running on the treadmill. She was going at good clip, had an easy stride and looked as if she had done this before. She looked fit and tempting. The T-shirt clung, the blue darker where it was damp with perspiration. She had a sexy bounce as she ran and her long legs were as shapely as he had imagined.
With a groan, he returned to his weights. When he stopped, she had finished and had a towel around her neck as she stood talking to Nigel. He smiled, glancing at Zach who waved Nigel away as a signal he was leaving the gym. Since Zach was finished, Nigel headed for the door and, without a glance, Emma followed close behind.
Zach hung behind. He hobbled out of the gym, wanting his foot to heal so he could get back to normal. He went to shower, wrapping his foot in a plastic boot and keeping it out of the shower to avoid getting it wet.
He constantly thought about taking her out when his foot healed and taking her to bed even sooner. If he didn’t want to complicate his life, that would not happen. She definitely would have her heart in an affair, something he had always avoided. In spite of what he knew he should refrain from doing, he could not keep from wanting to be with her and fantasizing about it.
Heat climbed, erotic images of Emma in his arms tormenting him. She was getting to him in ways no other woman ever had. So far, her resistance had been almost nil until he offered to double her salary. He suspected they both had acted impulsively. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing his excellent secretary and to be truthful to himself, he just didn’t want her to go out of his life yet. She hadn’t been able to resist because she was trying to save money to finish her college courses. Had part of her wanted to stay because of the attraction?
Out of the shower, he decided not to go back to the office. He could work somewhere else in the house the rest of the day and keep space between them.
He ate dinner alone as he had most nights of his adult life. He had had affairs, but they had usually been brief, casual, on-and-off relationships. His job added to his solitary life. Tonight, he was restless, still drowning in thoughts of Emma. Finally, he had enough of his own company and went to look for her, hoping she had not shut herself in her room for the night.
But she had. He had to remember it was for the best.
Four
Monday, they returned to their regular work routine. Late that day local meteorologists began to warn of a large, early storm from the west predicted to reach Texas on Thursday or Friday. Each day they checked the weather, Emma surprised that Zach ate lunch and dinner with her, flirting, friendly and heightening desire with every encounter.
By Thursday, pictures were coming in from the west of all the snow. “We’re ready for the storm, here at the ranch,” Zach told Emma. “We have supplies of every sort and enough food for weeks. I think you’re stuck, Emma, unless you want to take off work and head to Dallas this afternoon.” They both listened as the TV weatherman showed a massive storm dumping twelve inches of snow in the mountains in New Mexico and blanketing Interstate 40, closing it down.
“Now they’re predicting it’ll come in here Friday,” Zach repeated. “If you beat the storm home, you’ll be stuck there, which is fine if you want to do that.”
“I can miss one weekend at home,” she said. “Actually, I can go ahead and work and get more of the letters read and go through things.”
“If you’re sure. I’ve told Nigel and Rosie the same thing. Rosie’s cooking up a storm herself, but if we get what they’re predicting, neither of them will come in. I’ve told them to stay home.”
“I’ll stay here, Zach. I don’t want to get caught in bad weather. From what they’re predicting, it will come and go and be clear for me to go home for Thanksgiving next week.”
“If you decide to stay, I’ll pay you overtime.”
“That isn’t necessary. I’m happy to be out of the storm. Mom’s already called worrying about me.”
“Call her so she can stop worrying.”
“Thanks, Zach.”
“I wish I could take you out dancing Saturday night, but that’s out because of the storm and my foot. We can have a steak dinner—I’ll cook. We can have our own party here.”
She laughed. “Sounds great, but you don’t have to do that.”
His blue eyes held a lusty darkness and his voice lowered. “I want to. Even though it might not be the wisest thing for either one of us, a cozy evening in front of a fire while it snows outside sounds fun. Now I can’t wait for the first flakes to fall.”
Shaking her head, she smiled at him while her insides fluttered. Saturday night with Zach would not be the same as working together in a spacious office. “In the meantime, let’s go back to work,” she said, pulling her chair close to the open box of letters.
She read more letters—some were by his great-grandfather, most by his great-great-grandfather, all of them mixed together. She had trays she would place them in according to generation. She had made trays labeled by dates, water rights, and “boundary disputes.” She tried to sort them all the ways that would be helpful. If she had time before the job ended, she would put them in chronological order.
She had read five letters when she shoved her hand into the box to get more and felt a hard lump beneath the letters. She moved them carefully, placing them to one side in the box, and found two objects wrapped in cloth. “Zach, there are some things in this box. They’re wrapped in rags.” She carefully continued to remove letters as he crossed the room. He bent over to plunge his hand in.
“Zach, be careful with the letters.”
“Ah, Emma, these letters are not priceless heirlooms.”
“They may be to some of your family.”
“I’ll be damned,” he said, grasping something wrapped in cloth and pulling it out of the box. He tossed away the rags. “This is a Colt. It’s a beauty.” He checked to see if it was loaded—it wasn’t. “This is fantastic. You said there were two things.”
He placed the Colt on an empty chair and turned to reach into the box to withdraw the other object wrapped in cloth.
“It’s a rifle,” he said, unwrapping strips of rags that had yellowed with age. Zach tossed them into a trash basket and held the rifle in his hands, checking to be certain it was not loaded. “It’s a Henry. I’ll say my ancestors knew their weapons. A Colt revolver and a Henry rifle.” He raised it to aim toward the patio. “This is a find. Why would anyone stick these in with a bunch of letters? If I had been the only descendant, I would have pitched the boxes and never given them another thought.”
“Well, aren’t we all glad keeping the heirlooms was not left to you alone,” she said sweetly and he grinned.
“The Henry was a repeating rifle that came out about the time the Civil War began. This is fabulous,” he said, running his hand over it. “Now I can feel a tie with my ancestors with these two weapons. Ryan is going to love both of these. So will Will.”
“You make it sound as if all of you are gun-toting cowboys, which I know is not the case. Far from it. You’re a man of cities.”
“I still love this. It’s a beaut and Will and Ryan are going to love it. Garrett—he’s a family friend—won’t be so wound up over it, I don’t think. He’s the city person, which makes it funny that Dad willed this ranch to Garrett and not to any of his sons. It’s also why Garrett is in no rush to claim it. This Henry is something.”
She picked up an envelope. “If you’ll excuse me, you can go drool over your guns while I read.” She withdrew a letter. “Want me to read aloud?”
“I don’t think so, thank you,” he said, smiling. He picked up the revolver and carried a weapon in each hand back to place them on his desk. As soon as he sat, he called Will to tell him about the latest find.
They talked at length before he told Will goodbye and then called Ryan to tell him about the revolver and the rifle. She shook her head and bent over the latest letter, still thinking the letters were the real treasure.
It was an hour before he finished talking to both brothers. With his hands on his hips, he looked at the boxes. “Some of the boxes have objects of value. There’s one more box. I wonder if each one will hold its own treasure. I’ll start looking through this box,” he said, sitting down and pulling a box close. He took out a bunch of letters and put them on the floor.
“These letters are not packed away in any apparent order,” she said. “Put the letters in this box because it’s almost empty now. You’ll tear them up, dumping them out like that. I’ll help you.”
“The precious letters. I’ll take more care,” he said, and began to shift them to the box she had beside her. When his box was three-fourths empty, hers had been filled. He bent over his box and felt around. “I don’t feel anything, except letters.”
“Try reading a few,” she suggested.
He frowned slightly and picked up a letter to skim over it. “Nothing,” he said, tossing it into the discard box and taking another. After an hour, Zach was clearly tired of his fruitless search. “I can’t find anything worth keeping.”
“Maybe I should get in the car and go home now. It’s sort of tempting fate to stay.”
“You made a decision to stay. If you were going you should have left hours ago. You made your decision, so stick with it. If you leave now, you could get caught if the storm comes in early. You’d be in the snow in the dark. Not a good combination. Just stay.”
Stay, she’d have to.
On Friday the storm arrived as predicted, the first big flakes falling late morning. Emma went to the window. “Zach, this is beautiful. I have to go outside to look.” She left the office and went out the back to the patio to stand and watch huge flakes swirling and tumbling to earth. She stuck out her tongue, letting an icy flake melt in her mouth. She also held up her palm, watching for the briefest second as a beautiful flake hit her and then transformed into a drop of icy water.
In seconds she heard the door and glanced around to see Zach hurrying outside with a blanket tossed around his shoulders.
“I thought you might be cold,” he said, shaking it so it was around her and over her head as well as covering him. With his arm around her shoulders, he held the blanket in place. Shivering, she pressed closer, relishing the cozy warmth of Zach beside her.
“Isn’t this beautiful! I love the snow. It would be fun to have a white Christmas if it didn’t keep people from their families.”
“Your family will probably build snow forts and snowmen this weekend.”
She smiled. “Our yard will be filled with snow sculptures, bunnies, snow dogs, forts, tons of snowballs, snowmen. Our local paper came out one year and took pictures. We have sleds and everyone will go sledding if they can.”
“I guess in their own way, your family really enjoys life.”
“In the best way possible, they enjoy life,” she said, looking up at him. “Okay, I’m ready to go back in.” She tossed the blanket over his shoulder and dashed for the back door, feeling her cascade of hair swing as she ran.
Inside she stomped her feet to get the snow off and wiped her shoes on the mat. Zach appeared and did the same, best he could with his still-injured foot. “Want coffee, tea or hot chocolate to take back to the office?”
“Sure, hot chocolate.”
In minutes she had a mug and was at her desk, concentrating on work and trying to forget about Zach and how he had looked with big snowflakes in his thick brown hair and on his eyelashes.
“Emma,” Zach interrupted her during the afternoon. “Look outside now.”
She had been concentrating on work and forgotten the snow. The wind had picked up and when she glanced out, she gasped.
Snow was “falling” horizontally and the entire world was white. Everything in sight was buried in snow except the tall trees that were dark shadows as a blizzard raged.
“I didn’t notice. Oh, my word. I’m glad I didn’t get caught out in that.” She walked to the window and heard him coming to join her. Once again he draped his arm lightly across her shoulders.
“Tomorrow night, we’ll have our fancy steak dinners. Tonight it will be informal and cozy with Rosie’s Texas chili and homemade tamales. We can curl up by the fire and watch a movie or play chess or whatever you want to do. I can think of a few other possibilities,” he added in a huskier tone.
“Chess and a movie sound perfect. Forget the other possibilities. Stop flirting.”
“We’ll see what the evening brings,” he said, caressing her arm lightly. “And at the moment, I can’t resist flirting.”
“Try,” she said, taking a deep breath. She looked outside again, shivering just because the storm looked icy and hazardous. Once again she was thankful she wasn’t traveling. “I’m glad Rosie and Nigel are off. No one should be out in this. What about your livestock?”
“That’s who is out there fighting the elements and working—the cowboys who take care of that livestock at times like this. Just hope there’s nothing unusual happening with any of the stock.”
She nodded. “I’ll go back to work. I’ve received a text from Mom and all my family is home now except those who work close and they’ll be home soon. Some businesses have closed early.”
“Our Dallas office closed two hours ago. I have a policy with my CEO and with the vice presidents—whoever is in charge when I’m away—I don’t want anyone caught in this getting home. They’ve all had time to go home.”
“That’s nice, Zach,” she said as she returned to her desk.
They worked until five when Zach stood and stretched. “Time to quit, Emma. Actually past time to stop.”
“We’re out of the storm and I don’t mind continuing.”
“I mind. Come on—knock off and we’ll meet back down here for a drink and then dinner. Want to meet here at six?”
“Sure,” she said, shutting down her computer while he turned and left the room. She closed up and went to her room to shower and change. Dressing in a bright red sweater and matching slacks, she brushed her hair and tied it behind her head with a scarf.
Eagerly, she went downstairs to search for him. She followed enticing smells to the kitchen and found Zach stirring a steaming pot. He put the lid back in place. The minute she saw him, she forgot dinner. He wore a bulky navy sweater that made his shoulders appear broader than ever, and faded jeans that emphasized his narrow hips and long legs. He was in the health shoe and his loafer. Tangled curls were in their usual disarray. Zach’s eyes drifted slowly over her, an intense study that had the same results as a caress. Then his gaze locked with hers and her mouth went dry. She was held mesmerized while her heart became a drumbeat that she was certain he could hear. Captured by his look, she remained still while he stopped stirring and set aside the spoon to saunter toward her.
Her heart thudded as she tingled in a growing temptation. “Zach,” she whispered, uncertain if she protested or invited because she wanted to do both.
He reached for her, drawing her to him to kiss her.
Her stomach lurched while longing blazed. His passionate kiss demanded her response. Trembling, she returned his kisses, her tongue stroking his and going deep, exploring and tasting. He smelled of mint and deep woods. His lean body was hard planes against her softness, building her excitement.
Zach reached beneath her sweater, sliding his hand up to flick free her bra and then cup her breast as his thumb stroked her. Pleasure fluttered over her nerves and tickled her insides while she clung tightly to him. Finally, she looked up at him.
“Zach, this is exactly what I intended to avoid.”
“So did I,” he whispered. “It’s impossible. Just plain, downright impossible,” he added before kissing her.
Moaning with pleasure again, she twisted against him. He was aroused, ready to love. He unfastened her slacks, pushing them off, and they tumbled around her ankles. Kicking off her shoes, she stepped out of them.
Tearing herself away from his kiss, she gasped. “Zach, we’re crossing a line.”
“I told you, we crossed that line the day you walked into my office for this job. This was inevitable.”
“So ill matched and not what I want,” she said, looking into eyes that had darkened to a cobalt blue. “A total disaster.”
“You want this with all your being. You can’t stop,” he whispered. His mouth ended her argument. Knowing he was right, she wanted him and she wasn’t inclined to stop. She kissed him even though she’d declared their lovemaking a disaster and meant every word.
With deliberation he held her away to look at her and she stepped out of her pooled slacks. He pulled free her red sweater and her unfastened lacy bra went with it. His seductive gaze inched slowly over her, made her pulse race.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, caressing her breasts. Pausing, he tossed away his sweater and she inhaled deeply at the sight of his chest that tapered to a flat washboard belly ridged with muscles.
His hands rested on her hips as his gaze dallied over her, taking in the sight with measured thoroughness. “You’re gorgeous,” he whispered hoarsely. “You take my breath.”
She tingled beneath his sensual perusal. Wherever his gaze drifted, she reacted as if it were his fingers instead of eyes that trailed over her.
He untied her hair, pulling loose the delicate silk scarf, letting the free end slip down in a feathery whisper over her breast before he let go and the scarf fluttered away.
“Your hair is meant for a man’s fingers. I’ve thought that since I saw you get out of your car the first day.”
“Zach,” she whispered, shaking with need as she reached to pull him close. He resisted, catching her hands, finishing his study. Caresses followed with his fingers touching where he had looked.
“Zach,” she gasped, closing her eyes, trembling when she reached for him. He held her away, continuing his sweet torment. His feather strokes started at her throat, moving to her nape and down her back, up her side and then over her breasts, lingering, circling a taut point with his palm. She inhaled and moaned. “Zach,” she protested, tugging on his waist because she wanted to press against him and kiss him, to caress him. “We shouldn’t kiss.”
“Neither of us wants to stop. You want this and I want you. We’ve been headed for this moment from the first. Ah, Emma,” he whispered. His fingers slid over her belly, drawing light circles that tormented and heightened desire.
She throbbed with need. Hunger to love him built swiftly. His fingers slipped up the inside of her thigh and she gasped, spreading her legs. Then he caressed her intimately. Her heart pounded and her eyes flew open as she pulled him roughly to her and kissed him, pouring out her need.
With shaking fingers, she unfastened his belt and then his jeans, shoving them off.
“Your foot?”
“It’s protected by the shoe. Ignore it.” He yanked off his loafer and then his briefs followed.
She drew a deep breath at the sight of him.
His arms held her tightly. His rock-hard muscles pressed against her while his manhood thrust insistently. He picked her up to carry her in front of the fire, lowering her to an area rug. Flames warmed her side, but she barely noticed for looking into hungry blue eyes.
“You’re beautiful.” Kneeling, he showered kisses on her. She couldn’t stop. Couldn’t tell him no. A disaster was blowing in with the storm that raged outside. His hands strummed over her, building need. Her pulse thundered in her ears as she wrapped her arms around his neck, wanting to devour him.
As his hands stroked her, her hips arched to meet him. She wanted more, had to have his hands on her. He stretched out beside her, turning her into his arms while he kissed her and his hand stroked her thighs, moving between them to heighten her pleasure.
“Zach,” she breathed, sitting up and leaning over him. She trailed her fingers over the hard muscles, tangling her hand in his chest hair, showering kisses on his shoulder and down over his chest to his belly, moving lower.
As she kissed and caressed him, Zach combed his fingers through her hair. In minutes he sat up to roll her over while he kissed her.
“Zach, I’m not protected,” she whispered.
“I’ll be right back,” he whispered, his tongue trailing over the curve of her ear, stirring waves of sensation while his hand drifted down over her. He rolled away and stood, crossing to get something from the pocket of his jeans and return. He came down to hold her and kiss her, loving her until once again she thrashed beneath him.
Kneeling between her legs, he picked up a packet he had laid aside earlier. She drank in the sight of him while her heart thudded with longing. She had gone beyond the point of saying no, caught up in passion, wanting him.
Stroking his thighs, rough brown curls were an erotic sensation against her palms. He lowered himself, kissing her. His tongue went deep into her mouth, stroking her while she returned his kiss and clung to him. He eased into her, pausing, driving her to a desperate need as he thrust slowly.
Her pounding heart deafened her. Consumed by passion, she wanted him, longed to give herself to him. She had shut off thought earlier and was steeped in sensation, knowing only Zach’s body and his loving.