The Bachelor’s Christmas Bride (13 page)

“But now you have that nest egg and it gives you the money to invest,” Dag said, putting his mug of tea on the coffee table after a few sips.

Shannon went on warming her hands around her cup. “Yes. But if I invest the nest egg, then no nest egg,” she said reasonably. “And if the investment doesn't pay off, I won't have anything. Nothing. No job to go back
to—because right now I'm on sabbatical and slated to return to work next fall, but if I don't do that, I'm giving up my job. Also if I move to California and The Early Childhood Development Center doesn't succeed, it isn't as if I have parents to help out or come back to.”

“But it isn't as if you're alone in the world—you have Chase, he's your brother,” Dag reminded.

And Shannon didn't doubt that if she needed Chase's help, he would give it. But still their relationship was in the infant stages and asking him for help—especially financial—wasn't something she actually felt she could do. It was certainly something she wouldn't want to do.

“And I'd still have Dani,” she pointed out, thinking aloud, sorting through the pros and cons with Dag and wondering at the fact that she
did
feel comfortable doing that with him.

“Unless owning a business together and working together put a strain on the friendship,” he said. “Or doesn't that worry you?”

“It does…” she said, but she hadn't had anyone to talk to about it and now that Dag had brought it up, she appreciated the chance to air her feelings.

“Dani and I have been friends since we were kids,” Shannon said. “We're as close as I imagine sisters are. I'd do anything for her and I know she would do anything for me—”

“Why do I hear a
but
coming?”

“But we're different, Dani and I. We have different ways of doing things, different temperaments, different opinions. It's never mattered before because we always went our own directions—even though Dani's a teacher, too, she's taught fourth, fifth or sixth grade because she says the ages below that are too immature for her. We've
always shared what we had in common and supported each other when either of us did something the other one didn't, but—”

“If you invest in the school—”

“And/or go to work there, that's something we've never done before.”

“It might be fine—”

“Or it might mess up our friendship. And I don't know if anything is worth that,” Shannon confided.

Dag nodded his understanding. Before he'd said anything, however, she went on with her list of pros and cons.

“Plus there's Dani's husband…” she whispered as if someone else might hear as she finished her tea and set the mug on the coffee table beside Dag's.

“You don't like him?”

“He's…” She shrugged while she chose her words, not wanting to say too much against her best friend's spouse. “He's kind of full of himself and maybe just a little…slick. He needs to be the center of attention—the smartest, most successful person in the room. And he's the major investor in the school—which still makes it Dani's school since she's his wife, but I know that everything has to have his okay on it. I don't know if that's just for now—in terms of construction—or if it's going to influence the way things are done with the kids, with the educational programs. I just don't know how far his input and influence are going to go.”

“That seems like something to find out before you get in,” Dag counseled.

“There's also the fact that it will be a private school in
Beverly Hills,
” Shannon went on because now that she'd started this, she thought she might as well get it all out. “I've only worked in public school. I don't know if
I'll fit in, if I'll feel uncomfortable or out of my element there. I don't know if a schoolteacher—even in a private school—is a respected part of a community like that or not. I just don't know if I'll like it. And if I don't and all my money is tied up in it, then what? Then I'm back to the financial issues and having no one….”

“Or then maybe you just cash in on your investment and make another change,” he suggested. “You could even come back here. I could keep a room for you, if you want. I'll put a plaque on the door that says The Just-In-Case Room of Shannon Duffy. Would that help?”

Shannon laughed. “You're kidding, but I might take you up on it.”

“Who says I'm kidding?” he asked with a kind smile. “I can keep the cubbyhole room for you.”

“Why do I think you actually might do that if I asked you to?”

“Because I would?”

Maybe he wasn't joking.

“I'm sure the future Mrs. Dag McKendrick would love that!” Shannon said. “
Future
is the key word—if there
is
a future Mrs. Dag McKendrick, then we can make adjustments. But until then? I'll be your safety net if you'd feel better knowing you literally have a place to come back to if Beverly Hills doesn't work out.”

“You're serious…” Shannon said when she began to believe he was.

“I am,” he answered as if he'd made the decision on the spot but was willing to run with it. “Let me sign on to be your safety net.”

Oddly enough, that had an appeal because she somehow did feel safe with this man. Among so many other things she felt about him and with him…

But she tried not to think too much about those feelings and to stick to reality.

“It would be weird to go to Chase for help,” she said then, “but you think it would be less weird to go to the brother of my brother's partner for it?”

“Why is it weird if I'm volunteering? It can be like a pact we make, one free agent to another free agent—if I get sick of Northbridge and long for the Hills of Beverly, I'll come to you—”

“We both know that isn't going to happen, you
love
it here.”

He shrugged that off and went on with the terms of his pact. “And if things don't work out for you there, you'll come to me. I sort of like the idea of being someone you'd turn to if you needed to.”

She sort of liked that idea, too. But she wasn't sure why. “Thanks, but—”

Dag took her hand, holding it, rubbing the back of it with his thumb in a way that was an enticement all its own. “Just factor it into your thinking,” he said then. “Maybe it'll help you make your decision—if Beverly Hills still seems too risky even when you have a backup plan, then you may realize that isn't the way to go. If you feel more free to jump in
because
you have a backup plan, then maybe you should give it a try. I've heard that sometimes just having the safety net in place makes the high-wire walker less likely to fall.”

“You dated a circus performer?” she joked to hide how touched she was by his willingness to make things easier for her.

His smile was simple and sweet and endearing. “Only for a little while,” he said, his voice deeper, more quiet suddenly as he went on rubbing her hand with his thumb,
watching himself do it, unaware of the tiny electrical charges it was sending up her arm.

Then he raised her hand to kiss it much the way he had those other nights. Except unlike those other nights, once he'd kissed it, he let go of it and raised his palm to the side of her neck, and met her gaze with his dark, smoldering eyes.

“Not that I'm advocating for you to leave,” he said just before he closed the distance between them and took her mouth with his.

Why that kiss was like coming home, Shannon had no idea. But there was such warm familiarity in lips parted instantly to perfection, in mouths that seemed to fit together as if one had been carved from the other, and she just melted into that kiss.

Her palms rose to his cashmere-covered chest the way they'd been aching to do since the minute she'd laid eyes on him tonight. His other arm came around her, pulling her closer, repositioning them both so they were facing each other on the sofa.

The kiss deepened, reawakening that part of her that she'd discovered the night before, inviting it to come out to play again.

She could feel that slightly wilder streak rising, gaining ground, with each circle and thrust of Dag's talented tongue, with each time her own met and matched it. And when his hand went to the back of her head to brace it for the deepening of that kiss, when he held her tighter, she didn't think she could have contained herself even if she'd wanted to.

The man just brought things to life in her! As if every sense was on high alert—but only in the best way. With Dag, kissing wasn't merely kissing, it was an indulgence in something decadent, and every movement, every
placement of his hands in her hair, on her back, between her shoulder blades, only made her want to feel them everywhere else, too.

Her nipples grew taut behind the binding knit of the camisole that held them confined and thoughts of those big hands on her breasts suddenly became inescapable. Those big, strong hands…

She massaged the muscles of his broad back, which barely gave way beneath her fingers digging ardently through his sweater. The sweater that—regardless of how soft and fine it felt—stood between her and his bare flesh.

The new, more daring Shannon found the bottom of his sweater and slipped her hands underneath it, sliding them up sleek skin over honed muscle as Dag came slightly more atop her, his mouth pillaging hers as his hand found her breast, surprising and delighting her at once.

But both the surprise and the delight were short-lived because Shannon wanted so much to feel his hand on her bare flesh that she could have ripped her shirts off herself.

Dag always seemed somehow in tune with her and no sooner had that thought flitted through her mind than he snaked his hand under both shirts and found her naked breasts.

First one, then the other, giving them both equal time, equal opportunity to know the magic of a touch that was, by turns, light and firm, playful and serious, teasing and tormenting.

It felt so wonderful that Shannon's breath caught in a tiny gasp and all new desires made themselves known, causing her to slip one of her legs over his.

Desires that only mounted when his mouth left hers,
kissing, nibbling a trail down her neck, to her side, to her belly and then up to take her breast into that sweet haven.

The wild streak in her took full hold then and thrust her forward without inhibition, begging for more of that hot, wet wonder of mouth and tongue and teeth that stole her breath and left her weak with all the more wanting.

Because yes, she did want this man more than she'd ever wanted any man!

So much more that again it was a little alarming…

What if this was just some kind of rebound thing? What if it was some kind of insanity that had come from so much loss? What if it was some kind of seizing-of-life after so many encounters with death?

But it might just be Dag, she thought as he drew her breast more deeply into his mouth, as his tongue did a twirl around her nipple and it seemed as if it was Dag and Dag alone that she wanted.

It might just be Dag…

And how special, how cared for, he made her feel. How free…

But freedom was one of the things she'd always thought came with a bigger life. That brought Beverly Hills to mind to add to her qualms.

Beverly Hills and a bigger life and the fact that living in Northbridge—the way Dag did and was determined to do from here on—was not a life she had ever dreamed of.

Which screamed for her to keep things cool with him.

Too late for that,
she thought because she was already on fire for him.

But still once the reasonable, rational side of her
recognized that she should cool this off, it wouldn't leave her alone. And as amazing as kissing him was, as amazing as it was to have his hands on her, to have his mouth on her breast, she didn't think she could let it go on…

No matter how much she wanted it to.

And oh, did she want it to!

But other than what was happening at that moment, they wanted different, different things. So wanting him, wanting what he was doing to her, had to be sacrificed.

Yes, the small groan that echoed from her throat then was in response to a tiny flick of his tongue to the very tip of her nipple and how good it felt. But it was also to her own decision that she couldn't have more of that. Of Dag. And it was that decision that made her draw back just enough to let him know not to go on. That decision that dropped her head to the top of the couch cushion as Dag got the hint and stopped.

His audible exhalation was disappointed but resolved. He pulled her shirts down and then her head to rest on his chest so that he could lower his cheek to it.

And this time it seemed as if she had an inkling of what he was thinking even before he whispered in a gravely voice, “Yeah, you're right, we shouldn't.”

Shannon had no explanation whatsoever for why Dag thinking that, too, should disappoint her. But she wrote it off to the confusion of emotions that were all running rampant through her at that moment, and agreed. “No, we shouldn't.”

Yet they stayed the way they were for a while longer, holding each other, in no hurry to part.

But it had to be done and eventually it was Dag
who did it—sending another wave of regret through Shannon.

Dag raised his head from hers, loosening his arms from around her, sitting up straighter. She sat up, too.

He kissed her again. Briefly. As if he just couldn't stop himself. Then he stood, swiped his coat from the arm of the nearby chair and put it on while Shannon got to her feet to walk him to the door.

He kissed her yet again there—his hands were shoved into his coat pockets so he didn't touch her, but the kiss was still long and lingering and open mouthed, a sexy farewell that made Shannon hate that there was any farewell being said at all.

But just when she was fighting the inclination to ask him to stay, he ended that kiss, too, straightened up again and glanced over her head at the apartment.