Quickly Cory withdrew from her and began to dress. He needed to leave, he needed to leave now. Rebecca watched him from the bed, and he didn’t want to meet her eyes, but his eyes didn’t obey. His gaze kept wandering over her, seeing the places where he’d touched that slight body, where he’d trod. Red marks marred her arms where his hands had gripped too tightly. There was a purple bruise on her breast where his stubble had been. She had the look of a woman well used.
For the second time that evening, he put on his boots, ready to go. He waited for her to stop him, but there was a new look in her eyes. She wouldn’t stop him anymore. Rebecca Neumann had finally wised up. He wasn’t the kind of guy who was going to stick around, not for anyone.
“Not bad furniture-banging there, huh?” she asked, her mouth still swollen from his kiss.
Damn her. Cory stood, taking one inopportune step toward the bed. “I’ll leave now,” he stated stupidly because he still thought she’d stop him. Instead she stretched like a cat, and Cory felt the tortured urge to pounce.
Her eyes dared him to pounce.
It was the challenge that did him in. Cory’d never been one for a challenge. He walked out before he’d do something she’d regret for a very long time.
Chapter 6
Rebecca fired A pillow at the door, which accomplished nothing, but proved her foolishness. As if the previous ten hours hadn’t.
Some Christmas present. Four orgasms, one hickey and a bad case of stubble burn. And those were only the physical symptoms. Still, she’d known exactly what she was getting into.
A one-night stand.
She got up and stood near the window, watching the late-night sky light up with stars. The whole scene was like something from a fairy tale, a Normal Rockwell painting come to life. But right now, it sucked eggs. Big eggs.
The fire was crackling happily, uncaring of her foul mood. It was 2:00 a.m. and she wasn’t going to sleep anytime soon. This was Christmas, this was her vacation. Why couldn’t something go right for a change? Was it too much to ask?
Five minutes later there was a quiet knock on the door. This time Rebecca grabbed a robe from the bathroom and went and opened the door.
Cory—not that he looked happy to be there.
“Road’s still blocked?” she asked, trying to be casual.
He nodded curtly. “Nobody was at the front desk—guess everybody’s down for the night. If it’s all right with you, I’ll sleep on the floor.”
And somehow they’d moved beyond the one-night stand to the no-night stand. “The chair might be more comfortable.”
His eyes cut from hers to the stuffed chair. “I’m used to the floor.”
In the top of the closet she found some blankets and an extra pillow. She tossed them in his general direction. “I’m going to soak my feet. I hope the noise won’t keep you awake.”
Actually she hoped it would keep him awake for hours upon hours, but that wouldn’t gain her points on the sophistication scale, so she turned on her heel and went off into the bathroom. As far as she was concerned, Cory Bell was on his own.
* * *
The whirring sound kept him awake. She said she was soaking her feet, but she’d been at it way too long.
The floor was hard, but Cory wasn’t a stranger to hard floors. When you slept on the floor, it was easier to get away fast.
Some habits died hard, some habits never died at all.
He stared up at the ceiling, wishing for anything that would numb the damned knot deep in his gut. Everything irked him. The holidays, the trees, even the twinkly lights. If it wasn’t for her—no, scratch that—if it wasn’t for the snow, he wouldn’t be here at all.
Cory pulled the blanket up tight and closed his eyes. He might not be able to sleep tonight, but he’d be sure that she would never know.
* * *
Rebecca raised her feet from the bubbles, but even the soothing scent of cucumber and melon didn’t help. What the heck was wrong with her? Was she deficient in some way? Never. Except for fallen arches, she was absolutely perfect.
Okay, he was right. She wasn’t cut out for one-night stands. Maybe that was why she was sitting here giving herself a pedicure at 3:00 a.m., wondering what was wrong with her? Darn it, did he have to be so cold, so uncaring, so…one-night-standish?
Arg. She picked out the pale mauve nail polish, but forgot about the metal towel rack overhead. She hit it. Hard.
“Ow.”
“You okay?” Cory called from the other room.
So now there was care and concern for her well-being? She glared at the closed door. “Lovely.”
“Don’t want you to get hurt.”
“Oh, no. No hurt here.”
“Sure you’re okay?”