Blame It On Christmas

When she touched him intimately, he shuddered. This time, she knew the tremors that racked his big frame had nothing to do with a fear of enclosed spaces. J.B. wanted her. Badly. The realization was exhilarating.

They were still mostly clothed, though her bare breasts nestled delightfully against his warm, hard chest. It should have felt weird and odd to be standing here like this. Instead, it was the most wonderfully terrifying thing in the world. In his embrace, she felt torn in a dozen dizzying directions.

She hated this man. Didn’t she? Or was this a delightful dream?

The illusion was worth any price. She had waited a decade and more for J.B. to admit that he wanted her. Surely the fates would grant her one outrageous walk on the wild side.

She could call it off. The end would be ugly and awkward and far more scarring than what had happened when she was sixteen. But J.B. would never force himself on a woman, even if Mazie had been the one to initiate the encounter.

“I want you, darlin’ Mazie.” When he whispered her name and touched her thigh beneath her skirt, she knew the moment was at hand.

It was no contest. “I want you, too, J.B.”

What happened next was sheer madness. He scooped her up and backed her against the wall. Her hands tangled in his hair. They were both panting as if they had run a marathon.

He cupped her bottom, grinding his lower half against hers until she wanted to scream with frustration.

He slid his hands beneath her skirt and found bare skin. “Put your legs around my waist.”

“The condom,” she said. “Don’t forget the condom.”

“In a minute.” He kissed her wildly, his teeth bruising her lips. She pulled his hair, fighting to get closer. Her bikini panties were damp. Her entire body wept with the need to have him inside her.

She crossed her ankles behind his back, ripping at his shirt. “Take this off,” she pleaded.

He managed it without breaking the kiss. Now she could run her hands over acres of warm male skin. His body was toned and tanned and sleekly muscled. For a man who supposedly spent a lot of time with spreadsheets and architectural plans, he had the build of an athlete.

“Hang on tight,” he demanded. With a muffled groan, he ripped her underpants and held the scraps aloft. “Mission accomplished.”

“Those were new,” she protested.

J.B.’s grin was feral. “I’ll buy you more.”

Now he could go where no man had gone in a very long time. He caressed her intimately, inserting one finger...feeling the embarrassingly welcome state of her sex.

“Oh, wow...” She dropped her head to his shoulder and closed her eyes.

J.B. chuckled. “If you like that, I’ve got lots more.”

Without warning, a thunderous pounding on the huge door reverberated in the enclosed space. A muffled shout sounded. “Anybody in there?”

“Holy damn. Lord have mercy.”

J.B.’s incredulous response would have been hysterically funny if Mazie hadn’t been poised on the brink of a really spectacular orgasm. She groaned and buried her face in his neck.

The voice came again. “Stand back. I’m going to open the door.”

“Oh, my God.” She jerked out of J.B.’s arms and grabbed for her bra and shirt.

J.B. stared at her, his gaze hot enough to melt all of her inhibitions. “Saved by the bell...”

She should be glad—right? Glad that she hadn’t done something stupid and self-destructive?

What was he thinking? His expression was grim.

Her heart sank, incredulous at the way she had let herself fall into old patterns. Suddenly, the situation seemed a thousand times worse.

Four (#ua4061c73-9f49-5e7a-a9ca-9313ce16030a)

J.B. cursed beneath his breath, stunned at his run of bad luck. Then again, maybe he should admit the truth. No matter his physical frustration, he had escaped certain catastrophe. He’d spent years avoiding Mazie Tarleton, and yet he’d come perilously close to doing the very thing he knew he couldn’t do.

His beautiful enemy was barely decent when a loud scraping ensued, and the heavy door began to swing inward. At the last second, J.B. shoved her torn underwear into his pocket and slipped his shirt on again.

The lights from outside the vault were so bright they both blinked. Their rescuer crossed his arms over his chest. Jonathan Tarleton. Mazie’s brother. With a smug smile on his face. “Well, look at you two.”

J.B. took a step forward, shielding Mazie in case she had anything else she needed to tuck away. “What are you doing here?”

Jonathan moved back, allowing them to exit. “I though maybe I could convince Mazie to give you a fair hearing. When I arrived, I saw both of your cars, but neither of you. So I put my CSI skills to work and found footprints leading to the vault. Fortunately for you, this hardwood floor is dusty as hell.”

For J.B., the rush of cool air was blissful. He inhaled deeply, feeling the last tentacles of his brief ordeal slip away.

Truth be told, Mazie had rescued him quite effectively. Her methods were almost beguiling enough to make him drag her back into the vault and shut the door again.

Almost, but not quite.

“Thanks for rescuing us,” he said. “If you hadn’t come by, we might have spent an uncomfortable few hours locked up in there.”

“The mechanism was jammed on the outside. I had to hit it with my shoe to knock it loose.”

Mazie hadn’t said a word up until now, though she had hugged her brother briefly. She edged toward the front of the building. “It was my fault. I didn’t mean to close the door.” She grimaced. “Not to be rude, but I’m in dire need of the ladies’ room. I’ll see you later, Jonathan.” She gave J.B. an oddly guarded look for someone who had only recently been wrapped around him like a feather boa. “Thanks for the tour.”

And then she was gone.

He stared out the window, wondering if the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach was sexual disappointment or something far more alarming.

Had he actually connected with his prickly nemesis? Surely not. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. The only reason he was spending time with her at all was to seal a deal. He dared not let himself get sidetracked by an almost irresistible attraction.

That kind of thing made a man stupid. He should know.

Jonathan cuffed his shoulder. “Well,” he said. “Did you convince her? What did she say?”

J.B. ran his hands through his hair. “She didn’t say anything. We’d barely started looking the place over when we got stuck. I have no idea if she liked it or not.”

“Of course she liked it,” Jonathan said. “Mazie is a sucker for historic buildings. This one has tons of original features, but unlike the dump she’s in now, your building is rock-solid.”

“Yeah.” J.B. nodded absently, reliving every incredible moment of his incarceration. Now that it was over, the whole thing seemed like a dream. Did Mazie Tarleton really let him touch her and nearly make love to her?

“Hey, J.B.” Jonathan eyed him strangely.