“With you?”
He tightened his hold at her waist. “That was the idea. I’d be very disappointed if you left me to enjoy yourself with someone else.”
Despite her uncertainty, the giddy feeling was still inside her so she just shrugged as if she couldn’t care less one way or the other. “So long as you don’t suggest we sing karaoke.”
That naughty look twinkled as brightly as the colored lights adorning the Christmas tree in the corner of the ballroom. “Too bad, because my number is coming up two songs from now and I plan on you joining me.”
“You plan wrong.”
He reached into his dress pants pocket and pulled out a slip of paper. “Due to the time constraints, the Christmas committee had interested parties draw numbers earlier this evening.” He waggled his brows. “This interested party got a winning number.”
“I’d ask if you ever don’t win, but having to get up in front of all these people and sing doesn’t sound like a prize.” Grimacing, she glanced at the duo currently belting out a number. “Not a good one, at any rate.”
He laughed and touched his finger to her nose. “You’re funny, Trinity. I like that.”
“Not really.” She wasn’t funny. She hadn’t been since…since Chase had broken her heart and she’d withdrawn into her shell, trying to protect her tender inside.
Why had she done that? Why had she let him steal so much from her? Why was she still letting him steal so much of her life? For goodness’ sake, she had moved to a beach town because she’d assumed the locals wouldn’t put so much emphasis on a holiday associated with snow. Pathetic.
“Fine, I’ll sing with you, but just to warn you, I’m an even better singer than I am dancer and we both know how I excel at that.” She stepped on his toes, hard, to prove her point.
“My ears can hardly wait.” He grinned down at her. “Like I said, fun girl.”
CHAPTER THREE
TRINITY’S HEAD HURT. Not just a little. Her mouth felt as if something had crawled inside and died. Her stomach warned she might just upchuck.
She rarely ever got full-blown, miserable sick, but this morning she just felt bleh. Thank goodness she wasn’t scheduled to go into work today, just to take call. Maybe she’d get lucky and her phone wouldn’t ring.
Digging deeper beneath her covers, she groaned and snuggled up next to the warm body beside her.
Warm body? Hello. There wasn’t supposed to be a warm body in her bed!
“Good morning, sleeping beauty,” an unexpected voice broke into her haze.
An unexpected and very male voice.
A voice she immediately recognized, even though she’d only met him the night before. Why was he rambling on about sleeping beauty being a princess and her looking like one? Right. Because, like all fairy princesses, her hair and make-up remained perfect while she slept. Not.
She twisted to look at him. “Riley.”
“You were expecting someone else?” A lazy brow rose beneath sleep-tousled hair and he looked way too sexy for first thing in the morning. Apparently fairy princes really did remain perfect while sleeping.
She was in bed. Her bed. Between the covers. With Riley. Her heart pounded against her ribcage. Not good. She scooted away from his warmth until she reached a cold spot on the sheet. Too bad half her butt was now hanging off the edge of the bed.
“I wasn’t expecting anyone.” Her words came out half-croak, half-cry.
Pulling the covers tighter around her, she tried to register the fact that she was in bed with Dr. Riley Williams. Even more confusing, she tried to remember how she’d gotten there. How he’d gotten there.
“What are you doing here? You shouldn’t be here.”
He shouldn’t. She barely knew him. She didn’t do one-nighters. Not ever. She didn’t do anything. Not before or after Chase.
At her accusing tone, Riley’s grin slipped. “You asked me to stay.”
That threw her. “I did?”
“You did.” His confident tone and coolly assessing blue gaze brooked no denial.
She’d asked him to stay. They were in her bed. Although her black dress was gone, as were her hose, she still wore her panties. But no bra.
In bed with a sexy cardiologist with nothing on but her granny panties. Awesome.
She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and asked the twenty-million dollar question that kept echoing through her throbbing head.
“What did we do?” She sounded accusatory again, but she wasn’t able to control the rising panic within her.
What had she done? She’d finally broken away from the chains that had bound her to Memphis, had moved to Pensacola to make a fresh start, and she’d ended up in bed with the first man she’d stood under mistletoe with? How could she?