The Billionaire's Christmas Desire
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She arched, moaning, crying out until his mouth covered hers again and his kiss muffled sounds she made.
Zach maintained control. Sweat beaded his brow as he continued to thrust slowly. Dimly, she was aware he held back to heighten her pleasure, a sensual torment that made her want more. Urgency tore at her. As she clung tightly to him, beneath her desire ran a current of awareness that she bonded with Zach during this snowy night. This would be a forever event, always in her memory, burning deeply into her life no matter what he felt.
She tossed wildly beneath him until his control vanished. Zach pumped frantically, thrusting deep, his hips moving swiftly.
She arched, stiffened and cried out, her hips moving while ecstasy burst over her, showering her with release.
He shuddered while she clung to him, moving with him, for once both of them, in this moment, well matched. Maybe the only such time. Rapture spread in every vein, running in streams of satisfaction. Sex was breathtaking, incredible, earthshaking in her world.
She could no longer turn back time or erase the occasion. Zach had just become a facet of her life. He could disappear tomorrow, but this night had happened.
“How did we get here?” she whispered, stroking damp curls off his forehead.
“We walked in here with our eyes open. We’re where we both wanted to be. You can’t deny that.”
She kissed his shoulder lightly. “No, I can’t,” she said, smiling at him and winding her arms around his neck. Tonight she had made him significant in her life, something she shouldn’t have done.
“I think it’s the perfect place to be,” he said, combing long strands of her hair away from her face. “Snow outside, cozy and warm in here, you in my arms, wild lusty love. Totally gorgeous. Best sex ever. I couldn’t ask for anything more.”
“At the moment, I have to agree.”
“For the first time, I’m glad I hurt my foot. Otherwise, our paths would have never crossed. If I had passed you in the Dallas office, I would have noticed you, but I wouldn’t have gotten to know you. Not unless you had become my secretary there.”
“Not likely. This Friday night hasn’t gone according to plan.”
“It definitely changed for the better,” he whispered, showering kisses on her face and caressing her. “How about a hot tub together?”
“I think that’s a great suggestion, but I thought you had to keep your foot out of water.”
“I do. I’ve gotten very adept at hanging my foot out of the shower. I’m sure I can prop it on the edge of the tub.”
“You can’t hop into a tub,” she said, laughing.
He laughed and stood, scooping her into his arms. “I’ll carry you to a hot shower instead.”
“No,” she said, alarmed. “Zach, put me down. You’ll hurt your foot.”
“Nonsense. I carried you earlier and I didn’t hear a protest. We’ll do it this time the same way,” he said, kissing her and ending her argument.
Carrying her to a bedroom with an adjoining shower, he set her down. He had to give up showering together. As soon as they returned to bed, he pulled her into his embrace to kiss her.
Past midnight Zach held her close. “Ready now for some of Rosie’s chili?”
Emma stretched lazily, kissed his cheek and smiled at him. “I think I’ve lost my appetite.”
“I’ve found mine. Let’s go and when you smell it, you’ll probably want some. Want a glass of wine or one of my margaritas first?”
“Seems like this is the way we started the evening,” she said, wrapped in contentment. She suspected she had already complicated her life and she refused to worry about it on a wonderful night that had turned special. Tomorrow’s worries would come soon enough.
“I think you’re right.”
He stepped out of bed, went to a closet and returned wearing a navy robe. He handed her a dark brown robe. “For you, although I definitely prefer you without it.”
“No way, for dinner.”
Zach placed his arm around her shoulders as they walked to the kitchen.
“The chili has cooked on low all evening, so it’s ready,” he said, getting out a covered dish. “I’ll get our margaritas, build a fire and we’ll eat when we’re ready.”
In minutes he had drinks mixed and logs stacked to get a fire blazing. He turned out the lights, leaving just firelight and the snowy view outside.
She walked to the window. “Zach, it looks even more beautiful than earlier today. Tomorrow morning we have to build a snowman if it’s wet snow.”
“Don’t count on it. This is a cold night outside. It couldn’t be hotter in here,” he added in a husky voice.
She smiled at him. “When did you last build a snowman?”
“Probably when I was five. I don’t remember exactly, but we did when we were little. A bunch of little boys—of course, we did.”
She smiled and he walked to her, carrying their drinks.
“Here’s to the very best night ever.”
Surprised, she touched his glass with hers. “I’ll drink to that and I agree,” she said. She sipped the margarita and looked at the snow. “It’s beautiful out there, but I’m ready to sit by the fire.”
“In front of the fire is much cozier than here by cold windows.”
Tossing a bunch of pillows from the sofa to the floor in front of the fire, he held out his arm. “Come here and enjoy the warmth.”
She sat on the floor and he drew her back against him. “This is great, Zach.”
He curled a lock of her hair in his fingers. “When do you plan to go back to college?”
“I’m saving money and this job helps. I hope to start again next September. I’ll take night or Saturday classes or on the computer.”
“You can’t just take a year off to go back to college?”
“I like my job at your office. I hate to leave it.”
“I can promise you it’ll be there if you want to come back.”
She smiled at him. “Thanks, but I probably need the income, too. I don’t think I can save that much.”
“Do you have to get presents for that enormous family of yours?”
“The adults draw names. We all give to Mom and Dad. Right now we don’t draw names for the kids because there aren’t that many and they’re little, so they’re easy, but I expect the year to come when they do draw kids’ names. Our family is growing and two of us are still single.”
He took her drink and placed it on the table. One look in his eyes and her pulse jumped while he drew her to him.
“Zach,” she said with longing. Sliding her hands over his muscled shoulders, she wrapped her arms around him to kiss him as he pulled her down on the pillows.
Hours later Zach emerged from his bathroom and went to the kitchen. Emma wasn’t there and the fire was dying embers. The longer he had been with her, the more he had wanted her. Now he felt insatiable. Lovemaking should have cooled him. He had broken his own rules to avoid emotional and physical entanglements with employees. With Emma, he couldn’t turn back time and now he didn’t want to. Last night had been fantastic, red-hot and unforgettable, making him want her more than ever. He grew hot just thinking about her. She excited him beyond measure and was unbearably sexy. He hoped she didn’t expect more than he could give because she was sentimental, someone he never expected to become involved with.
She was totally the type of woman he had always avoided going out with. Always, until now. They were captives of circumstances that placed them in the same room, close proximity day and night. There were too many sparks between them to avoid fire. When had he been unable to use more control or maintain his cool resistance and good judgment?
“Here I am,” she said, coming through the door.
“You changed,” he said, looking at her jeans and thick blue sweater. “You look great.”
“I was just going to tell you that. And you also changed. I like your black sweater. And your tight jeans,” she said, wriggling her hips.
“You’ll never get dinner if you keep that up,” he said, a husky note creeping into his voice as his temperature jumped just watching her twist her hips.
She held up a hand. “No, no. I get to eat.”
“I know what I want.”
“Let’s try chili right now. If it isn’t cooked beyond the point of being edible.”
“Not at all. Cooker on low, remember? Rosie left us salads in the fridge. I’ll get them before I serve the chili. Want a glass of wine or margarita first?”
She laughed. “I think we’ve done that before. We can’t seem to get past it to dinner.”
“It wasn’t the drinks that interrupted. We’ll try again. Do you want wine?”
“I’ll take the margarita. Maybe this time, I’ll actually drink one.”
He left to mix her drink and she followed him to the bar.
“Before I forget,” he said, “let me go get something that came in the mail earlier.” He set down his bottle of beer and left to return with a large envelope. “Since you like family so much, here are pictures of our half sister’s wedding to Garrett, our CFO and a longtime family friend. Bring your drink and we’ll look at the pictures together.”
She sat down on the sofa, and Zach sat beside her, removing a book of bound pictures from the envelope.
“Garrett has married Sophia, our half sister. We didn’t know we had a half sister until the reading of Dad’s will. You can imagine the shock, particularly to my mother. I thought we might have to call an ambulance and I’m not joking about it. She had no clue. No one could understand my dad. Not any of us, definitely not my mother. I don’t think she even tried. Maybe Sophia’s mother. He never married her, but he kept her in his life until the end.”
“Sounds sad, Zach.”
“Don’t start feeling sorry for me over my dad. All of us wanted Sophia in the family. First, we really wanted her—that should please you. Second—Sophia, as well as all of us, stood to inherit a fortune from Dad if she became involved with the Delaney company. It was his way of forcing us to get her into the family. And forcing her to join us. Sophia was incredibly bitter over Dad and wanted no part of this family.”
“Even though you were her half brothers?”
“That’s where Garrett came in and you can see the results. We all like her and Garrett loves her.”
Emma looked over the photographs. “She’s beautiful and they both look radiantly happy.”
“You’re enough of a romantic to think that no matter what the picture shows.”
Emma stuck her tongue out at him, making him grin.
He looked at her profile while she studied the pictures. Her skin was flawless, her lashes thick and had a slight curl. Locks of red hair spilled onto her shoulders. He set down his beer, took her drink from her hand and then placed it and the book of pictures on the table. He pulled her into his arms to kiss her.
Her mouth was soft, opening like the petals of a rose. Heat spilled in him, centering in his manhood. He couldn’t get enough of her, relishing every luscious curve, her softness sending his temperature soaring. She wrapped her arms around him, kissing him in return, and he forgot dinner again.
Five
By Monday morning a bright sun made snow sparkle and icicles had a steady drip as ice and snow melted. When Emma went to the office she glanced out to see the snowman they had built Sunday afternoon. She had pictures of Zach clowning by the snowman.
Zach had run inside and returned with one of Rosie’s aprons to put on the snowman. He removed the snowman’s hat and placed sprigs of cedar for hair so he had a snow-woman. He posed for a picture with his arms around the snow-woman’s waist and with Zach puckered to give the snow-woman a kiss.
Remembering, she smiled. They had turned the snow-woman back into a snowman because Zach said he needed to return Rosie’s apron. She’d reminded him that he wore that very apron to cook their steaks Saturday nights, a point he’d conceded.
Monday was uneventful except she couldn’t lose the constant awareness she had of Zach. She was getting too close to him, enjoying his company too much. The weekend had brought intimacy and an emotional bonding that she may have been the only one to experience. She thought about the job ending soon and not seeing Zach again, so the problem would resolve itself. In spite of the weekend, it seemed wiser to put the brakes on a relationship. How deeply did she want to get involved with him? They were totally different with different priorities and vastly different lifestyles. The weekend had been magical, but they were shut away into almost a dream world, isolated in the storm on the ranch. She should develop some resistance and keep from sinking deeper into growing close to him. At least she should try. The intimate weekend was over and she should avoid another if she could dredge up the willpower.
That evening she learned that he was having his dinner in the office. Disappointment was coupled with knowledge that she was better off not seeing him. As she filled her plate in the kitchen, she quizzed Rosie about how Zach spent his holidays and received the same version she’d heard from Zach.
“Christmas decorations are in the attic and haven’t been touched in years because it’s been so long since any of the family has been at the ranch at Christmas,” Rosie said. “Nigel used to put them up in case the family came, but he stopped years ago because the Delaneys were rarely at the ranch in December. Actually, this house has been closed most of the time for the past ten years and the foreman runs the ranch.”
Emma picked at her dinner, her focus on Rosie.
Peeling and cutting carrots, Rosie stood at the counter. “When Adam, Zach’s eldest brother, was born, Mrs. Delaney was delighted and gave him her attention. He had a nanny and Nigel and I worked for them in the Dallas home. Back then, they had lots of help. By the time Will was born, Mrs. Delaney was losing interest. When Zach came along she wasn’t happy and she told me herself—no more babies. They had their family.”
“Rosie, that’s awful,” Emma said, thinking how every baby was so welcome in her family. Each birth was a huge celebration.
“That’s the way she was. In those days she and Mr. Delaney were going their separate ways. When she got pregnant with Ryan, Mrs. Delaney had a screaming fit. She didn’t want another child and she made that clear. She had lost interest in her boys.”
“I can’t imagine,” Emma said, deep in thought about Zach.
“No. They were good boys. Adam was eight, Will was seven, Zach, five. She couldn’t wait to get them out of the house and into boarding school. She sent Adam that year. Next year, Will went. Two years later, Zach went.”
“That seems too young to send them away.”
“Zach was never the same. He closed up and shut himself off. As a little fellow, he would hug me and climb into my lap. That all stopped. He was getting too big to get on my lap, but the hugs vanished. He was quieter, more remote.”
“You and Nigel both seem to have a close relationship with him.”
“Zach is nice to work for and I love him like another son, but he keeps his thoughts to himself. Any woman who thinks she’ll come into his life and change him is in for a big disappointment.”
“I can’t imagine his solitary life,” Emma said. “My family is like yours and we all gather together on holidays.”
“Their mother just turned off the love, if she had ever really loved them. It hurt those boys. Maybe not Adam and Will so much because they were the oldest and had had more of her attention.”
“I don’t understand how she could do that.”
“She’s hardly ever laid eyes on Caroline who is her only oldest grandchild, the daughter of Adam, who sadly passed away. She has no interest in the little girl. Caroline is showered with love by all those around her, so I don’t think she’s noticed or realized yet, but when she gets older, she will. Mrs. Delaney’s interest is in herself. She doesn’t come see them. Anyway, this is the first Christmas for a Delaney to be here on the ranch in years. I don’t think Zach pays much attention to Christmas. He hasn’t been home in years for a holiday celebration.”
“I can’t imagine that either. At Christmas, home is the only place I want to be.”
“I agree,” Rosie said, smiling broadly. “Open the pantry door.”
Emma did and saw snapshots of children, babies, adults, teens.
“That’s my family,” Rosie said. “Zach has given me time off and I will be with my family for Christmas.” She wiped her hands and came close to tell Emma the name and relationship of each person.
“That’s wonderful, Rosie. I know you can’t wait to see them.”
“Most are in Fort Worth, but others are scattered across Texas. Dallas, San Antonio, Fredericksburg. I’ll be off for three weeks.”
“This will be a fun Christmas for you,” Emma said, wondering if Zach would enjoy being alone as much as he said he did.
Later, while as she ran on the treadmill, Emma thought about all Rosie had said. Emma suspected Zach would not put up any Christmas decorations. She glanced at the ceiling, thinking about the room upstairs that led into the attic. Emma’s jaw firmed. She would decorate for Zach. She wanted Christmas reminders in her room and on her desk, but while she was at it, she would decorate the house a little if she found the Christmas decorations.
Nigel was gone by six each evening. By now Rosie might have left. As soon as she finished on the treadmill and showered, Emma pulled on fresh jeans and a red T-shirt. In the attic it took only minutes to find containers, systematically marked Christmas and each box had an attached list of contents.
She carried a box to the office and placed decorations around her area. She glanced toward Zach’s desk and debated, leaving it alone except for one small Christmas tree she placed to one side.
Wondering whether she would encounter Zach, she carried another box to the family room. In the attic she had spotted a beautiful white Christmas tree covered in transparent plastic and tomorrow she intended to ask Nigel to help her get it into the family room.
Maybe the decorations would get Zach into the holiday spirit.
In the family room she placed artificial greenery on the mantel and then placed sparkling balls, artificial frosted fruit. She set long red candles in a silver candelabra in the dining room, arranging them on the mantel. The scrape of a shoe made her turn toward the door as Zach entered.
He stopped to glance around. His black T-shirt and faded, tight jeans set her insides fluttering.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Decorating a bit for Christmas since the holiday approaches.”
Zach’s gaze met hers as he crossed the room. “I don’t care about your room or your desk. Otherwise, don’t put this stuff up in the house. Your intentions are nice, but this isn’t what I hired you to do,” he said, stopping only a few feet away.
“I’m not using work hours to do this,” she said. “I thought you’d like it.”
“No. I don’t want the clutter. It’s old stuff and doesn’t conjure up warm memories. I’ll get Nigel to see that it’s cleared away.”
“I can take it out,” she said. “I didn’t know it would be hurtful.”
“It isn’t hurtful,” he said, with a slight harshness to his tone. “I just don’t want it around and it’s time-consuming to put up and take down. Besides, you shouldn’t be lugging those heavy boxes out of the attic. The decorations are meaningless. These are old decorations that should be tossed.”
“You don’t think your family, Caroline in particular, might enjoy them?”
His eyes narrowed. “I’m having an argument over Christmas decorations. Caroline’s house in Dallas and the house in Colorado will probably be decorated from top to bottom. She doesn’t need more here.”
“You don’t think she’ll see you as Scrooge?”
“No, she won’t. I’ll have presents for her and she’s so excited over the baby, she won’t care what’s happening here. Caroline has reverted back to a very happy child, which is what she was before she lost her dad. These decorations won’t matter to her. When she’s older, she’ll accept me the way I am. Maybe view me as her eccentric uncle.”
“Very well,” Emma said quietly.
“I’m fine about Christmas and the holiday isn’t about decorations. Stop looking at me as if I’ve lost my fortune or some other disaster has befallen me.”
“I don’t think losing your fortune would be as disastrous as what you are losing. And I know Christmas isn’t about decorations. You childhood doesn’t have to carry over in the same way now.”
“Stop worrying about me being alone,” he said, smiling, his voice growing lighter as he stepped closer and placed his hands on her shoulders. His blue eyes were as riveting as ever. Her heart thudded and longing for his kisses taunted her.
He glanced around and walked to the big box of decorations to rummage in it.
“What are you doing?”
“What you wanted. I’ll observe one old Christmas custom. There are some decorations I want.”
Smiling, wondering what he searched for, she stepped closer.
“Here’s one,” he said, pulling out a decorative hanging cage filled with sprigs of artificial mistletoe. “I’ll put mistletoe up all over this part of the house. Let’s see if we can follow one Christmas tradition,” he added, his tone lowering another notch, strumming over her nerves. “You can help with this.”
“I don’t think that’s such a great idea,” she whispered.
“I think it’s fantastic.” He attached the ornament to the hook on the top of the door, then stood beneath it. “You want some Christmas traditions in my life. Well, here’s one,” he said, winding his arm around her waist to draw her closer as he leaned forward.
His mouth was warm, his lips firm on hers. She opened to him, melting against him while her unspoken protests crashed and burned.
Wrapping her arm around his narrow waist, she held him tightly. Her heart thudded and she could feel his heart pounding. Desire fanned heat as an inner storm built.
Her moan sounded distant. Longing strummed over every nerve. She had intended to avoid moments like this, stay coolly removed from anything personal with him. Instead, she was tumbling into fires that consumed her. Need became a throbbing ache, more demanding than before.
Their passionate kiss lengthened, became urgent. She wound her fingers in the tight curls at the back of his neck. Time vanished and the world around them disappeared. Zach’s kisses were all she wanted.
How could it seem so right to be in his arms? To kiss him? They were far too different in every way that counted for it to seem like the best place to be when he held her. His kisses had become essential to her, yet their lifestyles clashed. She held him tightly as if his kisses were as necessary to her as the air in the room.
One hand wound in her hair while he kissed her, his other hand caressing her nape.
Finally, she leaned away. “Zach, this isn’t what I planned.”
He raised his head, his blue eyes filled with hunger. He glanced overhead. “I’m surprised the mistletoe hasn’t burst into flames. Now I’m glad you got out the Christmas box. Let me see if there’s more mistletoe in there.” His husky voice conveyed lust as much as the flames in his crystal eyes. He turned to rummage in the box again. “Here are three more bunches. I have just the places. Come help me hang these.”
“I still don’t think I should. Zach, we’re sinking deeper into something we were going to avoid.”
“You started this. You can’t back out now. C’mon.” He left the family room and headed for the office, stopping in the doorway to hand her two of the bunches. “This is perfect,” he said, giving her a long look that shivered through her. “You wait while I get a hammer.”
He disappeared into the hall. Common sense urged restraint. Now she wished she had left Christmas decorations alone. In minutes he was back. She watched him reach up to push a tack into the wood to hold a sprig of mistletoe tied with a red ribbon. He tapped it lightly with the hammer. She passed him, crossing the office to her desk. She wanted space between them.
She could hear him hanging the mistletoe, but she didn’t want to watch. She straightened her desk and wondered if she could tell him to take the last sprig and go. She would put the box of decorations away when Zach wasn’t around. She had never thought about mistletoe, never expected to even see him tonight.