Wild Holiday Nights: Holiday Rush / Playing Games / All Night Long

She’d wondered if it would be as good now.

It wasn’t. It was better.

His lips were still cool from the outdoors, firm and just right. She darted her tongue out to taste him and his arms came around her, pulling her up tight against him. She slid her hands under his sweater to flatten her palms against his solid—and slightly wet—back. Gideon took over the kiss almost without her realizing it, parting her lips wider as his tongue made all kinds of promises to hers.

Calla moaned and pressed her hips into his, and then again as his erection nudged against her belly through his slacks.

“If you need to keep an eye on me, this is a much better way, I’d say,” she whispered into his ear.

As soon as she said the words, Gideon’s hold loosened, and he backed away.

“I’m sorry, Calla. I shouldn’t have done that.”

She blinked, still not quite recovered from his touch. “Why not? And technically, by the way, I did that to you.”

“I thought after so much time we wouldn’t have the same chemistry, or I...I don’t know what I thought.”

She frowned. “But we do have it. And what’s wrong with it? Unless...” Her stomach dropped as she realized what could be the very large problem. “You have someone back home?”

She’d never thought he might be attached, even married. Her eyes dropped to his left hand. No ring. But that didn’t mean anything these days. A lot of people she knew were in committed relationships without the traditional symbols.

“Absolutely not. There’s no one.”

Her knees almost sagged with relief.

“Except your brother Nathan.”

Calla froze, momentarily stunned.

“My brother? Wait. No. I know for a fact he’s been seeing a woman he’s fairly serious about for the last year—”

Gideon rolled his eyes. “No, not like that. Jeez. I mean, he’s my friend, and he asked me to come here to see if you were okay, not get you into bed. I’m fairly sure doing that breaks some kind of code that would allow him to shoot me if he found out.”

Calla read between the lines as fast as Gideon spoke.

“But you’d be interested otherwise?”

“I’m so interested I’ll be using a lot of cold water back at my hotel tonight.”

“So...” Calla posited what seemed to be the obvious thought. “Why does he have to find out? What business is it of his?”

“You think he wouldn’t know if I was seeing his younger sister?”

“I’m not talking about a long-term relationship, Gideon. I’m not moving back to Texas, and I assume you aren’t planning to move to New York, so...why not enjoy each other’s company for the holidays? I can show you the city, and you can make sure no bad men attack me.”

“I think I would be the bad man attacking you,” he said dryly, but she could also see he was interested.

“Sounds good to me.”

In part, Calla almost couldn’t believe the words coming out of her own mouth, but the more she spoke, the more she convinced herself, if not Gideon.

This was the perfect way to spend her Christmas holiday. A few days of no-strings mattress gymnastics with Gideon was suddenly all she wanted for Christmas.

Then he shook his head. “If he asked, I’d have to tell him the truth, and it could ruin a good friendship. Not to mention the trust we have on the job. You know that trust is a serious thing.”

She couldn’t argue the point. The wind went out of Calla’s sails as she realized she’d done the exact thing she’d promised herself she wouldn’t do—she’d thrown herself at Gideon again, only to have him walk away.

She felt like an idiot. Humiliated twice by the same guy. Wouldn’t she ever learn?

“Fine. You’re absolutely right, and I understand. So, if you don’t mind, I’m going to close up for the night. Your help was great. Thank you,” she added stiffly. “You can ask the police anything you want. The detective in charge was Howser. I hope you have a nice trip back.”

With that, she walked to the door and held it open in a clear message for him to leave. The cold air rushing in reminded her of how hot he’d gotten her minutes before, adding to her resolve. If he was going to walk away this time, she was making sure it was at her invitation.

Gideon blew out a breath. “Calla, please—”

“Really, I do understand, Gideon. Have a safe trip.”

When he halted his progress, pausing next to her by the door, she thought for one hopeful second that he’d changed his mind. That he might sweep her up and say the heck with her brother, but he only looked at her one more time with regret and then stepped out the door into the snow.

Calla shut the door behind him, locked it and went back to work on her cake. She’d lied about going home to sleep. Right now the last thing she wanted was to go to bed alone.

3 (#ulink_96326d78-eb52-5fc8-a373-347a393f81d3)

GIDEON KNEW HE’D done the right thing—just as he’d done by walking away eight years ago.

Doing the right thing sucked, but it was a lesson his father had drilled into him when he was very young.

He wished he could have broken the rules this once. But Nathan wasn’t just another cop on the force; he was Gideon’s partner. Nate had trained him, and they’d worked together ever since. He’d saved Gideon’s life, and the trust they shared wasn’t something Gideon took lightly. Gideon was supposed to make sure Nate’s sister was safe—not seduce her.

Calla’s offer of a holiday affair had been torture to turn down, especially since he hadn’t been with anyone in a while. On top of the demands of his job, his mom’s death and the resulting grief, sex had been the last thing on his mind.

Until he’d seen Calla. Now it was all he could think about. She was right—who would know? Well, he would.

He entered the large double doors of the local precinct where Calla had reported her break-in, announcing his arrival at the reception desk.

Gideon looked at postings on a corkboard in the hall for a few minutes, waiting.

“Detective Stone?”

An older guy, short and squat, but no less tough for his stockier stature, stood behind him. Gideon could tell Detective Howser had been in the game for a while. He’d probably seen it all, and more.

“Detective Howser. Call me Gideon. Thanks for taking a minute to talk to me.”

“Sure, no problem,” the detective responded with a thick New York accent, waving Gideon on to follow him back to his office.

Inside, he shut the door. “What can I do for you, Tex?”

Gideon grinned, not minding the moniker the detective casually threw his way. “I wondered if you could give me any more information on an attempted robbery that happened four days ago at a bakery in Chelsea...”