Manhunting in Mississippi (23 page)

sexy little wriggle as she helped him urge the jeans down over her hips and thighs. Then, when she was standing there in only her sweater and panties, wel …certainly there was no going slowly then.

And when she peeled the sweater over her head and stood before him in just her underwear, Brent groaned, deep and desperate.

“You’re torturing me here, Annie.”

“I’m torturing you? I thought you were doing the unwrapping.” She stepped forward, her hands going to his zipper. “Or are you passing off that job?”

No use. He couldn’t take it. Her nearness was intoxicating, and he caught her mouth with his, his hands pressing against the smal of her back as he pul ed her close against him. The heat between them blossomed, and she moaned, grinding against him in a rhythmic motion designed to drive him completely insane.

Somehow he managed to maneuver them to the bed, stripping off his shoes and jeans as they went. At the moment, he wanted nothing more than to sink deep inside her, and

the fact that his clothes hadn’t dissolved from sheer wil frustrated him.

“Please,” she whispered, her fingers fumbling at the waistband of his boxers.
“Now.”

The passion in her voice went straight to his heart, even as the blood rushed to other parts of his body. “Whatever the lady wants,” he whispered, as his fingers caressed her soft, secret parts.

“The lady wants you,” she said, her fingernails digging in to his back as she urged him closer. “She wants you now.”

He’d wanted to take it slowly, but no human male could resist, and Brent was only human. With one quick thrust, he drove into her, losing himself to the exquisite pleasure. She bucked up, meeting him thrust for thrust, their bodies becoming slick with effort, until her climax matched his and he col apsed on top of her, his body limp and spent.

“Mmm.” She turned her head, nuzzling his shoulder.

With his thumb and forefinger, he traced a lazy pattern around her nipple. “I’d planned to take it slow. But you’re a hard woman to resist.”

“Yeah?” She rol ed back, her eyes dancing with playfulness. “We stil have a little time left. You wanna try again? They say practice makes perfect.”

“Sweetheart,” he said, rol ing her on top of him, “I think you just made me an offer I can’t refuse.”

An hour later, she dozed beside him, her skin glowing in the afternoon sun that crept through the shades. And as he watched the gentle rise and fal of her chest, Brent knew one thing for certain—no matter what he’d told Annie, he wanted more than a Christmas fling. He always had.

Now he just had to figure out how to convince Annie that he real y wanted her by his side. For good.

THEY HELD HANDS
during the drive to Carrington’s Department Store, the warmth from his fingers spreading through her body al the way down to her toes. Somehow, the moment was even more intimate than the glorious three hours they’d just spent together in Brent’s apartment.

“I think this may be the first time I wish I could miss working in Santa’s Vil age.”

He turned away from the road long enough to look at her, his cheek dimpling with his smile. “I’m flattered. You’ve worked there every Christmas since high school.” He paused, then looked back at the road. “Why have you?”

Though the question surprised her, his voice held a note of genuine curiosity, and she tried to come up with an answer—something more articulate than
it feels right.
That wasn’t a reason for anything. Heck, Brent felt right, but that didn’t mean they were going to have a happily-ever-after. Did it?

She shook off the thought, focusing instead on his question. “A lot of reasons, I suppose. But mostly, I love Christmas. The spirit of giving and sharing. The looks on those kids’

faces when they sit on Santa’s lap. Maybe it sounds corny, but it’s heartwarming.”

Brent pul ed into the employee parking garage, his face passive. “I suppose.”

She shifted in her seat to look at him better. “What, Ebenezer? You don’t agree?”

She’d expected a smile and a quick denial. Instead, he simply looked sad.

“Let’s just say that in my experience, Christmas has been equated with profit margins. And Christmas Eve was spent waiting for Dad to get home from closing the store and

checking the books. I don’t think I saw him on the night before Christmas once until I was sixteen and started working at Carrington’s. To me, it always seemed as if the customers were racing to see who could buy bigger and better, and my dad was right there, cheering them on. I don’t think that’s what the spirit of Christmas is al about.”

“No, it’s not,” she agreed.

“And on Christmas Day my dad never even made an appearance. Just slept until wel after lunch, too exhausted to do any sort of family stuff. Not a very Norman Rockwel -

esque situation.” He shrugged. “Let’s just say Christmas isn’t my favorite time of the year. Somehow, it al seems like a big con to me.”

His words were harsh, but he squeezed her hand, as if trying to assure her that he was fine with the situation. But fine or not, it seemed so sad, and as she fol owed him into the store, Annie tried to imagine what the holiday season would be like without her family traditions. Pretty miserable, she decided, and she felt sorry for the little boy Brent had been who’d missed out on Santa and cookies and al the stuff she’d grown up with.

Right then, she made up her mind. Before she went to New York, she’d just have to make sure that Brent got the chance to experience some good, old-fashioned Christmas

cheer. And she was just the girl to show him.

CHAPTER SIX

BRENT FROWNED
as he watched Annie working at Santa’s Vil age, looking good enough to eat in her little green elf costume. He shook his head. It was al so commercial, and yet she seemed to be having the time of her life. Her face glowed as she chatted with the children in line to see Santa. And she handled every package she wrapped as though it contained a Fabergé egg, picking out the perfect paper and making sure the package sparkled even though the service was free.

Baffling.

“Excuse me.” A gray-haired woman tapped his elbow. “I’m trying to find a gift for my grandson. It’s this little electronic gizmo that plays games.”

Brent stifled a smile. He might not normal y work in toys, but he knew Game Boy when he heard it described. He wanted to tel her that she should get her grandson something

cheaper and spend more time with him, but he didn’t know this woman and he couldn’t presume to lecture her. So in the end, he showed her the display.

Immediately, her face fel . “Oh, dear.”

“Problem?”

“I didn’t realize they were so expensive.”

At least she wasn’t reaching into her purse for a credit card with the attitude that debt at Christmas wasn’t real y debt.

“Thank you anyway, young man.”

She was walking away when he noticed her threadbare clothes and her scuffed-up shoes. He had no idea what possessed him, but before he could stop himself, he’d cal ed

out to her to wait.

She paused, looking back at him with a curious expression.

“This is completely my fault,” he said. “I don’t usual y manage this department, and I forgot to have the staff put up the sale sign.” He held out the box to her. “This one’s on sale today only for fifteen dol ars.”

A huge discount, but the store could afford it. And if his dad disagreed, wel , Brent would cover it from his own pocket.

The second he spoke the words, he knew he’d made the right decision. The woman’s face lit up like…wel , like a Christmas tree.

“I can just about afford that.” She took the box that he’d initialed with the new price and clutched it to her chest. “My grandson has to spend Christmas in the hospital. I don’t normal y approve of these kinds of toys, but he wants one, and I think it wil be a nice distraction for him when the family can’t be there.”

Brent was probably imagining it, but he thought that when she walked away there was a new spring in her step.

“That was an awful y nice thing you just did.”

Annie’s voice.
He turned around to see his favorite elf grinning at him from behind a stack of Harry Potter merchandise.

“Could be habit-forming,” he said.

She eased over, taking his hand and then urging him toward the employee break room. “Sure could. You just might end up enjoying Christmas after al .”

He shrugged. She was teasing, but there was truth to her words. “I’ve been watching a woman I know. And thinking. She’s not too bad a teacher.”

“Yeah?” She slipped closer, and his arms automatical y closed around her waist. “I can think of a few things you could teach me.” She brushed her lips over his. “I’ve got five minutes left on my break. Maybe a quick lesson is in order?”

Not one to miss an opportunity, Brent leaned over and locked the door. The other employees could wait five minutes for a break.

And once those five minutes were up and he lost Annie to Santa, Brent intended to go have a little talk with his father about what Brent did and didn’t want.

For one thing, he didn’t want to work in sales. He never had. For another, he wanted Annie, and he intended to get her. His father’s approval be damned.

He was twenty-eight years old. It was about time he set the record straight.

BRENT’S FINGERS STROKED
her back, leaving a trail of fire that eliminated any lingering chil from the December air. He’d said they were only taking a five-minute break, but Annie wanted so much more than that. Ten minutes, an hour…

A lifetime.

She banished the thought. They’d agreed to a fling, and she was content to keep her end of the bargain. Wel , maybe not content, but she knew she had no choice. Already,

she’d shared more with Brent than she ever thought possible. She should count her blessings. She should rejoice.

Maybe. But the truth was, she only felt sad.

“Penny for your thoughts,” he whispered, his breath tickling her ear.

“Nope. I’m not that cheap.” She grinned up at him, trying to shake the mood, wanting just to enjoy the moment. “Just hold me, okay?”

He seemed to understand what she needed, and he pul ed her tight, surrounding her with his strong arms as she buried her face against his chest. An innocent touch, but it

burned through her just the same.

She clung to him, swaying slightly in his arms, knowing that, for the moment at least, she was secure.

His lips grazed her forehead, moving down to skim over the top of her ear, sending a swarm of shivers racing through her body. Sweet torture, but he kept it up, exploring her ear and her neck with his tongue, his breath hot against her throat.

Her pulse picked up tempo, and she felt her heart beat against his chest. She was barely cognizant of where he ended and she began. “Brent,” she murmured.

“I know,” he said. And she was certain that he did understand. They’d come together so fast, and yet he already meant so much to her.

“Wil I see you after work tonight?”

“Sweetheart, you’d be hard-pressed to keep me away.” He stroked her cheek. “What is it about you? So quiet and sweet, and yet you’ve got my insides al whipped up like a

tornado.”

“Just my innate charisma, I guess,” she said with a grin. She hoped she sounded lighthearted, but the fact was, he was describing the very way she felt about him. And the

knowledge that they were so in sync was almost as erotic as his soft touches and caresses.

“That’s gotta be it,” he said, pul ing her close. They held each other, exploring, tasting, and touching, until he pul ed away, gently framing her face with his hands. “Five minutes,”

he said, as she silently cursed whoever invented the very first clock. “Back we go.”

She nodded, and he kissed the very tip of her nose.

The moment was so sweet, so tender, and yet she couldn’t help the tears that wel ed in her eyes. In just a few days, she was leaving for New York for a new life. A better life.

But could it real y be better if it meant that she’d be alone?

CHAPTER SEVEN

BANG, BANG, BANG!

Brent frowned, confused, until he realized the steady beat was coming from someone knocking at the door. His five minutes of bliss in the break room was over, and now it was time to go back to work.

Looking slightly embarrassed, Annie straightened her costume and her hair and stepped back, then took a seat at the table and started perusing a two-year-old copy of
People
magazine.

Hiding a grin, Brent flipped the lock, and Paul barged in, stil in his Santa suit, the green of his face almost matching the tint of Annie’s elf costume. Immediately, Annie was up and helping him into a chair.

“What’s wrong?”

“Dinner,” Paul managed, his voice barely a squeak. “At least, I hope that’s al it is. But we’ve got signs al over the place that say Santa’l be back at eight, but I’m not sure I’m even going to be alive at eight.”

He lurched forward then, and rested his head between his knees. “Someone just shoot me now.”

Brent caught Annie’s eyes, easily reading her expression. She was concerned about Paul, but she was just as concerned about the disappointment of those kids.

Wel , what the heck? His moment of Christmas spirit with the old woman and the Game Boy had worked out wel . Surely this wouldn’t be too bad.

Before he could change his mind, he started peeling off his jacket. “I hope you’re not contagious. And I hope that’s stuffing in that suit, because otherwise it’s just going to fal off me.”

Annie’s mouth opened, but no sound came out.

Paul’s head rose just slightly. “You’re going to…”

“Yup. Start stripping. Looks like I’m playing Santa.”

Surprisingly, the next three hours passed remarkably fast. So fast, and so enjoyably, in fact, that he barely even noticed when Annie came over and whispered that her shift was over and that she’d see him the next day. Right at the moment, he’d been preoccupied with a precocious seven-year-old determined to explain to him why Blitzen was the best reindeer of the bunch.