By the time they finished work, Naomi was more frazzled than usual, but she suspected her weariness had less to do with work and more to do with Aaron’s imminent departure. It wasn’t fair that someone who’d aroused all her antipathy on their first meeting should now arouse something quite different in her. And it was definitely wrong that he’d effected the turnaround in a few days.
Dinner at the Red Possum was pleasant and friendly, as she’d expected. The bistro was crowded with festive diners. Children ran around in the play area. A constant stream of steak, salad, and chips flowed from the kitchen. There was zero chance for intimate conversation with Aaron. Not that he appeared to want a tête-à- tête with her.
Back at the house, Chloe asked Naomi to read to her, and Naomi quickly acquiesced, figuring she’d give Luke and Tyler a final chance to chat with Aaron while she put Chloe to bed. A while later, longer than she’d anticipated, Chloe was finally asleep, and Naomi tiptoed out of the girl’s room.
Deciding on an early night, she made her way to the annex. As she passed the courtyard separating the annex from the main house, she caught sight of a shadowy figure standing in the paved area. Her heart jumped before she recognized Aaron, and then her heart bounded again, almost cavorting. Aaron had already spotted her, so she couldn’t slink away, and she didn’t want to anyway.
He tilted his head, indicating she join him, and she stepped through the glass doors that gave onto the courtyard.
“I thought you’d still be chatting with Luke and Tyler,” she said.
“I was, but with you taking care of Chloe, I got the feeling they were keen for an early night, if you know what I mean, so I excused myself.”
“Oh.” She cleared her throat and searched for a mundane remark. “So are you packed and ready to go first thing tomorrow morning?”
He nodded. “My vacation’s gone much faster than I thought it would. Especially the last few days.”
He studied her with intense focus, the shadows on his face making him mysterious, unreadable. A flurry of excitement ran through her. Maybe she’d get to kiss him again after all.
“The last few days?” She laughed. “You’ve spent them up to your eyeballs in your version of Christmas hell.”
He chuckled too. “It had its perks.”
Now there was no mistaking his interest. She drew in a deep breath to fortify herself. The lush scent of roses filled the courtyard while stone walls protected them, heightening the intimacy of the sultry darkness. She took two steps toward Aaron. He copied her. Inches separated them. Here was her chance to kiss him the way she’d been dreaming of. Tomorrow he’d be gone, so now she could fling aside all her tiresome reservations and simply enjoy this hot hunk of a man who seemed to want to kiss her just as badly.
He was vibrating with tension, she realized. As if he was struggling to control himself. He moved even closer until his shirtfront brushed up against her tank top. Even in the dark, she could see his eyes clearly, and the desire in them ignited her. Without hesitation, she curled her arms around his neck and stood on tiptoe, her mouth reaching for his. He met her halfway, his kiss hot, voracious, demanding, his arms wrapping tightly around her waist, pulling her hard against his body. His aggression stoked her blaze. Heat poured through her as she responded freely, running her hands across his shoulders, through his hair, greedy for every inch of him.
He trailed his mouth over her cheeks, lips caressing her flesh before he nibbled gently at her earlobes, his breath hot and fast. “You taste delicious,” he murmured, his voice thick with need. “You’re my idea of dessert.”
The sensuous rumble of his voice turned her legs to rubber, and when his mouth shifted back to hers and his heat engulfed her again, she clung to him, not only for support but to absorb every iota of his charisma. She parted her lips, flicked the tip of her tongue into his mouth, and he made a throaty sound before his tongue slid into her mouth, his strength and virility spreading through her, possessing her. Her head grew dizzy from the pleasure. Her fingers lost their grip on his shoulders. Oh heck, was she about to swoon from his kiss?
Mercifully, he broke off the kiss to give them both some breathing space. “Honey,” he panted, his eyes feverish, his palms burning through the thin cotton of her tank top. He swallowed hard and continued, “I sure hope you’re not going to pull away anytime soon, because I don’t know if I can stop myself.”
“I—I’m not.” She would enjoy his kisses while she could. Tomorrow didn’t exist. All they had was this one balmy, rose-scented night that she’d never forget because she would never meet another man like Aaron Cade. Eager to etch as many memories of him as possible, she reached for him again, and he didn’t hold back.
While his mouth enthralled her, he explored her curves with confident hands. His caresses aroused her; his kisses captivated her. She never wanted him to stop. She felt as if she were floating away, her body lifted up by their passion
Something hard vibrated against her thigh. That—that couldn’t be? No, it was his phone ringing in his pocket.
“I’ll get that later,” Aaron muttered against her lips, his hands splayed across the backside of her jeans.
The phone fell silent. Naomi held her breath. But the phone began buzzing and vibrating again. The schoolteacher in her sighed. “It might be an emergency,” she said.
“I have an emergency right here in my hands.” Lust and frustration throbbed in his voice. She smiled, thrilling to the feel of his hands cupping her butt. But the phone wouldn’t stop. Muttering a curse, Aaron released her and dug out the phone, answering it curtly.
Naomi moved away to give him some privacy. Her pulses were pounding, her entire body flushed with intoxication and pheromones. She shivered despite the heat.
He’d stopped grunting into the phone. She spun around, anticipation rising, only to be brought up short by the perplexed look on Aaron’s face.
“My flight’s been canceled.” Disbelief throbbed in his voice. “Canceled indefinitely.”
“What?” Confusion whirled in her head. “You meanyou’re not leaving tomorrow?”
“Apparently not.” He tugged at his ear, appearing even more shell-shocked. “Looks like I won’t make it home in time for Christmas.”
Chapter Five
Aaron couldn’t believe it. A volcano. A fricking volcano on some tiny Pacific island he’d never heard of had single-handedly ruined the Christmas plans of hundreds of travelers, including his. Because of the volcanic ash, all flights between Australia and the States had been canceled indefinitely. Indefinitely. He wasn’t going home to New York. He wasn’t going to spend Christmas with his folks in Mecklenburg. Even if he bribed his way onto a plane to Europe, which were all fully booked—he’d checked—and then caught a connecting flight to the States, he wouldn’t make it home on time.
So here he was on Friday afternoon, sitting on the floor of Luke’s family room, helping Chloe decorate the new Christmas tree. Naomi and Tyler were at the store, and Luke was wrapping presents in his study. Aaron had flopped on the couch, still stupefied about his disrupted travel plans, when Chloe had tugged at his hand and asked him to help her with the tree. The five-year-old was too winsome to resist, and soon they were discussing the merits of red versus gold baubles.
“Look what I made at preschool.” Chloe held up a giant cardboard snowflake thickly encrusted with silver glitter. “Can you put it near the top, please?”
“Have you ever seen real snow?” Aaron asked as he hung the snowflake in the upper branches of the tree.
Chloe shook her head, red curls bouncing. “No, but I seen it in books.”
It was another stinking hot day. The tinsel on the tree stirred lazily in the draught of the overhead fans. Outside, heat shimmered in the glaring sky. Aaron rubbed the back of his neck. Here he was hanging fake snowflakes for a kid who’d never had a white Christmas before. Out of the blue, he was gripped by a longing to feel real snowflakes falling on his face, icy cold and feathery, to hear the squeak of snow against his boots as he plowed through a fresh snowdrift.
“Snow is wonderful,” he found himself saying to Chloe. “It’s fresh and cold and makes everything pretty. And no two snowflakes are the same.”
Chloe nodded, crossing her arms. “That’s what I told Amelie from preschool. She tried to take my snowflake home, but I know what mine looks like.”
Aaron laughed and told her that hers was the best snowflake he’d ever seen.
Chloe rummaged through a box of decorations and picked up three salt dough initials—C, L, and T. “And I made these specially for Mum and Dad.”
As Aaron helped her fix the initials, he couldn’t help remembering similar ones he’d made many years ago which his mother still faithfully hung on the Christmas tree, even though the dough was flaking off and the colors had dulled. No doubt his salt dough initials were dangling on his mom’s Christmas tree at this very moment.
His chest pinched unexpectedly. When he’d called his parents to break the news that he wouldn’t be making Christmas, his mom hadn’t gnashed her teeth or started wailing as he’d half feared. Instead, she was more concerned about his well-being, that he’d be taken care of properly over Christmas, and when she heard he’d be spending the holiday with Luke’s vast family, she’d breathed a sigh of relief. “I just don’t want you spending Christmas on your own,” she’d said. That had made him feel worse than if she’d tried to guilt-trip him.