years since they’d kissed, yet she tasted
familiar. Their lips molded as though they’d never been apart. It didn’t take
much coaxing for her to open her mouth so he could deepen the kiss. He gathered
her close against him as their tongues began a sensual duel. And then they were
kissing in earnest.
The old sensations swirled through him, even more powerful than
he remembered. He was instantly hard, the same response she’d elicited in him
years ago when he’d been a teenager. In the past, he’d always been the one to
break off the kiss. If not for the control that almost killed him, he would have
taken her virginity long before she was ready to lose it.
She wasn’t a virgin now. They were consenting adults who wanted
each other as desperately as they had then. Maybe more so. In the years after
he’d lost her, he’d dreamed of making love to her, never knowing whether the
reality would have been better than his imagination.
He could find out now, but what if making love to her was
everything he’d ever thought it would be? What then? He’d still need to be back
in Manhattan, and the life he’d made for himself by the weekend.
He lifted his mouth and moved her away from him with gentle
hands. Her jaw dropped and the corners of her eyes scrunched up. She didn’t
understand; that was clear. But if he stayed in her hotel room even as long as
it would take to explain, he might still be here in the morning.
With her fingertips, he touched the lips he’d just kissed. Even
that contact sent desire shooting through him.
“I’ll see you in the morning,” he said.
Then he turned and left. He didn’t dare glance back.
* * *
K AYLA HAD THOUGHT OF almost everything
when she’d set out to make sure nobody messed with Santa.
She’d snagged a prime parking spot on Duval Street that
provided a view of the intersection where the statue loomed. Then she’d settled
into the front passenger seat for the long night ahead, a pair of binoculars and
a thermos of coffee at the ready.
She had absolutely no doubt she could stay up all night. What
she hadn’t counted on was the need to pace herself with the coffee. It wasn’t
yet 2:00 a.m., the thermos was empty and she was in desperate need of a
restroom.
As the hour grew later, she saw fewer cars and people. Across
the street from the statue, one of the welcome centers that sold trolley rides
of the island sights had closed hours ago. Pedestrians still walked by, though,
many of them unsteady on their feet after a night of drinking.
Kayla squeezed her legs together. She’d had too much to drink,
too, damn it.
There was a hotel down the block where she could probably talk
her way into using the restroom. But what if somebody defaced Santa in the
interim? How could she ever convince Uncle Carl she could be a good detective if
she couldn’t handle a simple surveillance?
Tomorrow night she wouldn’t have this problem. She’d taken
Maria DiMarco’s advice and put a rush order on a wireless security camera that
would free her from the front seat of her car. Kayla didn’t have that luxury
tonight.
She slumped back against the seat, trying not to think about
anything involving water, pretty hard when she was parked beside a bathing suit
shop.
Drops of rain appeared on the windshield and she gazed skyward
through the glass. “Somebody up there hates me.”
She trained her binoculars on the lonely statue and then swept
them right and left, her vision helped by the businesses and residences that had
opted to leave their Christmas lights on all night. Since nobody was coming, she
might be able to chance running to the restroom. But, no, off in the distance,
heading her way from the direction of Old Town, was a lone figure. A man with
his shoulders hunched against the light rain. She’d have to stay put until he
was past.
Kayla started to drop the binoculars when something about the
man’s walk rang a bell. He moved fluidly with a long gait, just like Alex
Suarez.
familiar. Their lips molded as though they’d never been apart. It didn’t take
much coaxing for her to open her mouth so he could deepen the kiss. He gathered
her close against him as their tongues began a sensual duel. And then they were
kissing in earnest.
The old sensations swirled through him, even more powerful than
he remembered. He was instantly hard, the same response she’d elicited in him
years ago when he’d been a teenager. In the past, he’d always been the one to
break off the kiss. If not for the control that almost killed him, he would have
taken her virginity long before she was ready to lose it.
She wasn’t a virgin now. They were consenting adults who wanted
each other as desperately as they had then. Maybe more so. In the years after
he’d lost her, he’d dreamed of making love to her, never knowing whether the
reality would have been better than his imagination.
He could find out now, but what if making love to her was
everything he’d ever thought it would be? What then? He’d still need to be back
in Manhattan, and the life he’d made for himself by the weekend.
He lifted his mouth and moved her away from him with gentle
hands. Her jaw dropped and the corners of her eyes scrunched up. She didn’t
understand; that was clear. But if he stayed in her hotel room even as long as
it would take to explain, he might still be here in the morning.
With her fingertips, he touched the lips he’d just kissed. Even
that contact sent desire shooting through him.
“I’ll see you in the morning,” he said.
Then he turned and left. He didn’t dare glance back.
* * *
K AYLA HAD THOUGHT OF almost everything
when she’d set out to make sure nobody messed with Santa.
She’d snagged a prime parking spot on Duval Street that
provided a view of the intersection where the statue loomed. Then she’d settled
into the front passenger seat for the long night ahead, a pair of binoculars and
a thermos of coffee at the ready.
She had absolutely no doubt she could stay up all night. What
she hadn’t counted on was the need to pace herself with the coffee. It wasn’t
yet 2:00 a.m., the thermos was empty and she was in desperate need of a
restroom.
As the hour grew later, she saw fewer cars and people. Across
the street from the statue, one of the welcome centers that sold trolley rides
of the island sights had closed hours ago. Pedestrians still walked by, though,
many of them unsteady on their feet after a night of drinking.
Kayla squeezed her legs together. She’d had too much to drink,
too, damn it.
There was a hotel down the block where she could probably talk
her way into using the restroom. But what if somebody defaced Santa in the
interim? How could she ever convince Uncle Carl she could be a good detective if
she couldn’t handle a simple surveillance?
Tomorrow night she wouldn’t have this problem. She’d taken
Maria DiMarco’s advice and put a rush order on a wireless security camera that
would free her from the front seat of her car. Kayla didn’t have that luxury
tonight.
She slumped back against the seat, trying not to think about
anything involving water, pretty hard when she was parked beside a bathing suit
shop.
Drops of rain appeared on the windshield and she gazed skyward
through the glass. “Somebody up there hates me.”
She trained her binoculars on the lonely statue and then swept
them right and left, her vision helped by the businesses and residences that had
opted to leave their Christmas lights on all night. Since nobody was coming, she
might be able to chance running to the restroom. But, no, off in the distance,
heading her way from the direction of Old Town, was a lone figure. A man with
his shoulders hunched against the light rain. She’d have to stay put until he
was past.
Kayla started to drop the binoculars when something about the
man’s walk rang a bell. He moved fluidly with a long gait, just like Alex
Suarez.
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