Baby, It's Cold Outside

Even his father thought Emily would have nothing to do with him?

Well, if their kiss was any indication, she might not want to marry him, but she certainly approved of some aspects of him.

Of course, she did turn you down.

He grimaced.

“She wouldn’t be your type, anyway,” his mother continued, her tone obviously meant to soothe the affront. “And like I said, she’s dating the mayor.”

“She isn’t dating him,” Colin growled.

His mother’s eyebrow went up quizzically. He could just imagine her maternal-matrimonial radar beeping to life.

Damn it. “Listen, all this talk about marriage and stuff is giving me the heebie-jeebies,” he said. “I don’t mean to be cranky. I’ll be on my best behavior. I just want to play with the kids and enjoy my family on the holiday, before I have to go. Okay?”

She sighed, finally relenting. “All right,” she agreed, hugging his shoulders. “But I wouldn’t pester you so much if you didn’t worry me, kiddo.”

“I know,” he told her, hugging her back as they went over to the living room.

They watched the kids enjoy their presents all morning, and by lunch Colin was feeling more like himself. However, he had a new problem to deal with.

“It’s been ages since I’ve been over to the hotel,” his mother said. “You never mentioned—how’s your room?”

“Great.” Which was true. “Very comfortable.”

“Queen-size bed or king?”

He had no idea. “Er…queen.”

“She’s a good manager, from what I’ve heard. A very hard worker. She’s been obsessed with the place ever since…” His mother paused, frowning. “I’m sorry. You’re probably bored with Tall Pines gossip.”

But when it came to Emily, Colin was hanging on every word. “Ever since what?” he asked.

She smiled the satisfied smile of a storyteller who knows she’s got her audience hooked. “Ever since her father died and her mother remarried shortly afterward,” she said dramatically. “Her mother told her that she’d sell the place because she was tired of upholding the Stanfield family traditions. There was no way Emily could manage a building that size by herself, but she knew her father would have hated to lose it. So she came up with a plan to use her trust fund and turn it into a hotel.”

Colin was riveted. “That’s a lot of work.”

“I didn’t agree with it,” his mother said. “It’s not the same, having the Stanfield house open to strangers. Paying customers.”

“What was she supposed to do?” Colin defended. “Give up and get rid of it?”

His mother wrinkled her nose. “Well, if she’d gotten married to someone rich, she could’ve kept the house.”

Of course marriage would be the solution his mother came up with.

“She was engaged, you know,” she added. “Years ago. To Richard Gaines.”

“That jackass?”

She glared at him. “Language, please.”

Colin fell silent, but he was still shocked. Ricky Gaines was a jerk. A rich jerk, granted, but still a complete waste of space.

“They were engaged as soon as she graduated from Amherst,” she said. “But they never did get married. The town was pretty divided on who was at fault.”

“So what was your vote?” It was unheard of for Ava Reese not to have an opinion.

“I say he was.” She sniffed. “Since he got married and had his first baby a few short months after. Some rich blond girl from Boston. Of course, if Emily had been a bit more attentive when they were dating, he might not have strayed, but that’s neither here nor there. Richard and his new family lived here for a year, and it was very awkward for Emily.”

Poor Emily, Colin thought. No wonder she didn’t want to get involved with anybody from town.

His mother put her hand over his. “She’s a lovely girl, and I’ve always felt like the right person might help make her happier. She always seems sad to me, for some reason.”

He’d noticed that, as well. “Poor kid.”

His mother sighed. “She could use a good husband.”

Colin had to change the topic away from marriage—and Emily—in a hurry. “You know,” he finally said, “I thought maybe I’d stay here. One last night with you guys.” Even though the cot was even less comfortable than the couch, it would probably do wonders for his peace of mind. He’d been fixated on Emily for long enough.

“Oh, we’ll miss you, but I think you had the best idea,” his mother said breezily. “It’s far too crowded here with your brother and your sister and the grandkids. As long as you have the room at the inn, you might as well stay, right?”

“I suppose.”

“You know,” she added speculatively, “you’re right.”

Colin’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. He knew that look on his mother’s face. “I’m right how?”

“Emily isn’t dating the mayor yet,” she said, smiling mischievously.

He saw the light of hope in her eyes…and calculation.

Oh crap.

Good thing he was leaving in the morning, because one more day in Tall Pines could mean real trouble if his mother decided she’d found him a wife.

“EMILY, YOU LOOK great this evening,” Mayor Tim Ryfield said, sitting at the head of the dinner table at his house. “I’m so glad you could make it…especially since we’ve never had dinner together before.”

Emily forced a smile of her own. “A Stanfield has been a guest at the mayor’s Christmas party for the past fifty years, Tim,” she said. “I’m glad to attend.”

There. That showed that she still wasn’t really having dinner with him. The last thing she wanted was to date the mayor of Tall Pines, even though she was continually tossed together with him. She wouldn’t be surprised if there was some Getting Emily and Mayor Tim Married committee meeting on a monthly basis.

Ava Reese was probably the chairperson. She chaired nearly everything else.

Emily caught herself grinning at the traitorous thought. She blamed Colin’s influence. Not that they’d had much interaction in the two days he’d been staying with her. Still, the mere knowledge of his presence had been severely disquieting to her state of mind.

“Stanfields always do their duty,” Mayor Tim agreed. “You know, if you’d run against me for mayor, you probably would’ve won.”

“Why would I want to be mayor?” she asked, bewildered.

“I’m not saying that,” he corrected. “I’m saying you’re a big part of this town. People like you and trust you. They know they can count on you.”

She stared at him. “Tim, did you want me to be your campaign manager next year or something?”

He laughed. “That’s the other thing I like about you, Em. You’re honest and straightforward.”

“Honest, straightforward, trustworthy,” she muttered. “You’re making me sound like a Boy Scout. So spit it out. Why are you buttering me up?”

He looked thoughtfully at his roomful of guests. There were a lot of other people sitting around the large table—the mayor’s Christmas party was a long-standing tradition—but everyone else was involved in their own conversations, thankfully. Tim’s voice lowered.

“You know how everyone’s been matchmaking between us for the past year or so?”

She nodded heavily, feeling pained.

“I’ve been fighting it, too,” he pointed out. “But I’ve been thinking about it. And maybe, just maybe, they’re on to something.”

Her eyes widened. “I know you’ve asked me to dinner, but I’ve never really thought you’ve been serious about it.”

“I wasn’t,” he admitted. “But I’m not getting any younger. I’ve been focused on politics since I was in high school, Em.”

“I remember,” she said, shaking her head. “You were the only junior I knew who had a press kit.”

“It got me this far. And I’d like to go further. To do that, I’m going to need a wife.”

Now her eyes bugged out. “Holy crap, you’re not asking me to marry you, are you?”

As it happened, her statement popped out when there was a lull in all the other conversations. You could have heard a spoon drop. The entire table was riveted on the two of them.

“I’m not asking you to marry me—yet,” Tim said, eliciting a suggestive chuckle from the other partygoers. “I’m saying maybe we should try going out.”

“Oh, Tim,” Emily protested, shaking her head. “That’s not such a great idea.”

“Why not?” He managed to sound reasonable, even logical about it. “I’m not seeing anybody. And you’re not involved with anyone.” For a fraction of a second he looked tentative. “That is, you aren’t seeing anyone, are you?”

She closed her eyes. Unbidden, the image of Colin wearing just pajama pants sprang into her mind. The scent of him, the feel of his hands, his mouth…the wine-edged taste of his kiss.

“No,” she admitted, her voice ragged. “I’m not involved.”

And whose fault is that?

Not that a one-night stand really equaled involvement. That was the point of it, being one night, after all.

“So there you have it,” Tim said as if that was the only barrier to their relationship.

“You’re sweet, and we’ve known each other for a long time,” she said gently. “But—”

“You haven’t given this a fair shake,” he said implacably. “I know I’ve fallen into nice-guy syndrome with you, but if you give me a chance, I think you’ll discover we’re quite compatible.”

“Come on, Emily,” Mrs. Rutledge said from across the table. “You have to admit, you’ve been pretty chilly about the whole thing.”

“No harm in trying,” Mr. Rutledge added.

“One simple date is not going to kill you,” Mrs. Macnamara said, contributing her two cents.

Emily was appalled. Apparently they’d all ganged up on her tonight. “Let me think about it.” She saw that they were ready to ply her with a second assault, so she quickly said, “Oh, and by the way, I hear that there’s a big supermarket chain that’s trying to buy the Henderson lot.”

With that, she set off a tidal wave of debate—which was the point.

Under the cover of the heated rhetoric, she turned to Tim. “Don’t ever, ever put me on the spot like that again.”

“It wasn’t entirely my idea,” he said mildly. “You’re the one who yelped about a marriage proposal.”

“Well, I hate feeling cornered. And you’re a great guy, Tim, but I just don’t feel that way about you.”

“What way is that?”

She took a deep breath. “I don’t…that is, I’m not…Oh, hell. There’s no fire between us. No passion.”

“Yeah, I know,” he said, grinning and taking a forkful of turkey from his plate.

Emily blinked. “I’m not head over heels in love with you is what I’m saying.”

“Good God.” He sounded horrified. “I’d hope not!”

She finally shook her head. “Okay, apparently somebody slipped acid in my Christmas punch, because I’m having a hard time tracking here. Weren’t you trying to date me a second ago?”

“I do think we should date. And if everything works out, I think we should get married,” he said as easily as if he were picking an item off a lunch menu. “This is political, Em, not personal. I’m not looking for somebody I’m madly in love with—assuming I could fall madly in love. Which I seriously doubt I’m capable of, by the way.”

She tilted her head, surveying him. She’d always seen him as a good guy, maybe a little too ambitious and nose-to-the-grindstone but still overall decent. Now she realized that there was something sort of melancholy about him…something he kept carefully hidden.

“You’ve never been in love?”

“Thankfully, no,” he said. “But you have. And you’ve been hurt.” He smiled, and it was genuinely kind. “I wouldn’t hurt you, Em. I’m just saying let’s be partners. Give it a try. What have you got to lose?”

She thought about it. What did she have to lose?

Again Colin blazed through her mind, almost overwhelming her senses even in the comparative dimness of memory.

I need passion, she thought.

But did she really want to fall madly in love again?

Emily started fidgeting with her linen napkin, crushing it into a wad on her lap.

It was so much easier when all I wanted was sex. She got the feeling that sex with Tim would be…

She wrinkled her forehead, trying to visualize it. Actually, she couldn’t even imagine sex with Tim. Whereas she could imagine weeklong scenarios of sex with someone far more inappropriate. Like, say, Colin.

Oh, give it a rest, you idiot.

“Trust me. It’s a cliché, but passion fades,” Tim said quietly. “Good friendships, a relationship based on partnership and mutual goals—now that’s got staying power.”

“Hmm.”

“Man, you’re stubborn,” he said, leaning back. “You’re going to the New Year’s Eve ball, right?”

She nodded.

“Flying solo, I’ll bet. Well, why don’t you go with me? Dinner here beforehand, and then the limo will drive us there and back.” He winked. “Don’t look at it as a date. Look at it as a ride share with a free meal thrown in.”

She laughed. “You’re charming, I’ll give you that.”

“Got me elected two terms in a row,” he replied smugly.

She focused back on her meal, but she was still thinking about passion. And Colin.

He’s leaving, anyway.

The thought came unbidden. He’d said he was leaving the morning after Christmas, which meant tomorrow morning. She’d only have one more night with him. Then it’d probably be years before she ever saw him again.

Technically he really is an out-of-towner, her subconscious suggested conspiratorially.

So where did that leave her?

“Merry Christmas, everybody!” Tim called out, raising his glass.

“Merry Christmas,” she echoed. If she married Tim, this would be her future—formal dinners, companionable friendship, a partnership made with the town in mind. Comfortable, idyllic, picture-perfect. It wouldn’t be all that bad, considering.

If you slept with Colin, even if you never felt passion again, at least you’d have an incredible memory to live with.

Emily blinked. Sleep with Colin? Ava Reese’s son? The guy Tall Pines loved to gossip about?

Who would ever know besides the two of you?

The thought caused a wave of heat to curl through her. He wasn’t even going to see his family afterward if they did spend the night together. He’d just go straight to the airport and that’d be the end of it.

No one would find out.

“There. Now you look happy,” Tim said.

She nodded. She was happy.

Or at least she would be happy…as soon as she got home.

IT WAS AROUND ten o’clock when Colin got back to Emily’s place. He entered quietly, wondering if maybe she was asleep. He wished he were. He was exhausted. He loved visiting with his family, but still, he’d be glad when his cab came and took him to the airport in the morning.

All he needed to do was avoid any contact with Emily, leave her a nice thank-you note and he’d be home free.

The fire was lit, he noticed, and there was a bottle of champagne in an ice bucket. His scented candles were lit, as well, making the room smell like autumn, with subtle hints of pine, nutmeg and cloves.

He glanced around, puzzled. “Emily?”

She stepped out of the bedroom wearing the robe he’d seen her in his first night at her apartment. Her feet were bare, her hair was loose and tumbled wildly around her shoulders. She smiled. “Colin,” she said, and her violet-blue eyes were dark with promise. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas.” She looked like a present—waiting to be unwrapped.

“I thought since you’d be missing New Year’s, maybe you’d like some champagne.” She nodded to the bottle. “If you’d do the honors?”

His gaze went from the champagne to her loosely belted robe, then back to the champagne. Then, furtively, back to her robe, which opened up into a tantalizing V of creamy, exposed skin.

Things were not going to plan.

In fact, things were going to hell in a hurry, and he’d be in too deep in a matter of moments if he didn’t take action.

Ah, but what a way to go.

He shook his head, trying to clear it of his prurient thoughts. “Um, Emily…this may not be all that swift a decision.”

“What do you mean?” She sat down on the couch, and the hem of her robe shifted to reveal a very shapely leg. Her feet were small with high arches, and her toenails were painted crimson, like ripe cherries.

It took him a second to remember her question. “We’ve been through this once already, remember?” he said, referencing his very spontaneous—and very rejected—kiss.

She smiled, a slow, deliciously wicked smile. “I’m simply asking for champagne,” she purred, leaning back. The motion caused her breasts to press against the robe, forcing the neckline open a few fractions farther. “At least, that’s all for right now.”

Colin almost knocked the bottle over in his haste to turn away from her tempting display. He opened it and slowly poured two glasses, keeping his back to her.

She’s hot, no question. But she’s trouble. Remember?

No matter how tempting Emily Stanfield might be, sleeping with her would open a can of worms.

“So,” he said slowly, handing her a champagne flute and carefully sitting as far from her as the couch would allow. “I take it you’ve reconsidered my out-of-town status, then?”

He closed his eyes. He shouldn’t have asked, but he was curious as to her change of heart. She laughed, and the sound warmed his bloodstream like brandy.

“The more I thought about it, the more I realized—you are an out-of-towner.”

He shifted uncomfortably, remembering his early exchange with his family. Emily Stanfield was small-town to her bones. Wholesome values, dedication to her community. Tall Pines to the core.

And you’re not.

Her seductive smile slipped, revealing an expression of concern. “You’re worried because I turned you down before, aren’t you?” she said softly. “I hurt you. I’m sorry.”

“No, no,” he reassured her, unconsciously moving closer. “It’s not that. In fact, I think you were right. We probably shouldn’t sleep together.”

Her eyes snapped, a luminescent blue, fierce as a welding arc. “Why don’t you think we should?”

Now she was the one who sounded hurt. He stroked her hair, trying to take the sting out of his statement. “The same reasons you had. I’m not quite out-of-town enough…and the good people of Tall Pines would have a field day if they found out.”

“Who were you planning on telling?”

“What?” he asked, startled. “I wouldn’t tell anybody.”

“Neither would I,” she said, and he watched, hypnotized, as her hand trailed down and untied her robe. It fell open to reveal a deep-cherry-red silk teddy edged in white lace. “It’s nobody’s business but ours, Colin. Nobody else needs to know.”

His body went hard in a rush. No Christmas morning had ever held more promise than this moment, with this beautiful woman offering herself up as if she were every toy that he’d ever wanted in his entire life.

But she’s not a toy. And he couldn’t treat her like one.

“I’m leaving in the morning, Emily,” Colin said carefully, even though his voice was rough with desire.

“I know,” she answered. Was he imagining it or was there a thread of regret in her voice? “But we still have tonight.”

His body was clamoring for her, his heart beating double time, his cock harder than a steel girder. Were it any other woman, he’d have bridged the distance between them five minutes ago. If she were any other woman, they’d be well on their way to making it a very memorable night indeed.

Of course, if it were any other woman, he’d wake up in the morning and leave without a second thought. But it was Emily—and for whatever reason, he sensed that leaving her would cause a lot more repercussions than that. She deserved better than to be a one-night stand, one on a list of fond memories.

On the other hand, he had the sinking feeling that Emily Stanfield was not the type of woman he’d forget easily. And that caused a whole different kind of problem.

He sat on the couch, frozen in indecision.

She made a small sigh of irritation and then scooted closer, shrugging out of the robe. Emily had freckles on her shoulders, he noticed—a pale sprinkling. She leaned forward. “What time do you have to leave?” she whispered, her breath tickling the sensitive spot just below his ear.

“N-nine,” he stammered, struggling against another tidal wave of lust.

“That gives us hours,” she breathed, brushing a tiny kiss against his collarbone. He groaned. “Let’s not waste any more time.”

Colin couldn’t help himself. His hands moved forward, his fingertips caressing her long, swanlike neck, then smoothing down the petal-soft skin of her shoulders. His mouth consumed hers in a sensual assault, teasing her for only the briefest of moments before simply devouring her. He could hear her muffled cries of longing, feel the way her hands bunched in the fabric of his shirt, clutching him as if she couldn’t bear to let him go.

Did he position himself on top of her or did she pull him? He felt drunk on the taste of her, dizzy with it. He hazily registered the length of her body beneath his…the way her breasts crushed against his chest, the heat from between her thighs warming his jean-clad erection. Her quick fingers tugged his shirt out of his waistband, then found the naked skin beneath. With a low, unbelievably sexy growl, her hands rubbed up against his bare back, then with gentle insistence she drew her oval nails down his bare skin, causing him to shudder with need. He tore his mouth from hers for a second, gasping for air, fighting for control.

“Oh, Colin,” she panted. “No matter what happens after this, I want you.”

In that second, her statement pierced his desire-soaked consciousness long enough to force him to pause. With superhuman effort he rolled off her, practically falling to the rug. “Damn it,” he said, rubbing his hand over his face. “Damn it!”

“What?” she asked, her eyes wide, her voice breathless. “What’s wrong?”

“This. Us.” He closed his eyes, and a litany of curses rolled through his mind. “You said no matter what happens after this. You know this is going to be complicated.”

She huffed. “Maybe. But if anything did happen, I’d deal with it.” She sent him a shaky grin. “So far, you’re more than worth any consequences.”

While the compliment only threw more fuel on the fire of lust snaking through his system, he grimaced. “In other words, you don’t care what the fallout winds up being if this leaks out.”

“Basically.”

He frowned. “Wouldn’t you resent me for just leaving you holding the bag?”

“Colin, not to be callous,” she said, rolling her eyes, “but even if I hated you for it…honestly, what difference would it make? You wouldn’t be here to see it. And what are the odds we’re going to see each other again so you’d have to deal with them or me?”

Now, of all the things she’d said, that stopped him cold. She was offering every man’s dream—no-strings-attached, smokin’ hot sex without the need for so much as a phone call after. And he wouldn’t make it back to Tall Pines until next Thanksgiving at the earliest, so he would miss any repercussions.

So why did it feel so damned wrong?

“I know you think you mean this, Emily,” he said as neutrally as possible. “But you’ve admitted you haven’t had sex in a while. And I’ll bet you haven’t had sex with all that many people in your life, period. Am I right?”

She didn’t say anything, just drew her full, pouty lips into a tight line.

He was right. He knew he was right.

“I just think,” he continued reluctantly, “that when this is all over, you’re going to regret saying yes. Maybe for a long, long time.”

There. He’d done it. He was listening to his conscience rather than his body, for once in his life.

Emily stared at him, studying him. She seemed to almost crackle with an aura of frustration and need. Then she stood up, stalking back to her bedroom and shutting the door.

He swallowed the rest of his champagne without tasting it. Despite his various love affairs, sex wasn’t something he took lightly—and anything related to Tall Pines was a time bomb. He still felt guilty over the stupid stuff he’d done when he was a kid. He wasn’t about to compound it by doing stupid stuff as an adult.