The Holiday Hoax (5 page)

Tonight she needed to take the next step in their relationship.

A shiver raced down her spine. She’d ached to feel his warm hands on her naked flesh, to give herself entirely to him. Snuggled in the comfort of his embrace in the snowbank, his kiss gave her the answers she sought. His hot tongue and hard body fueled her need for more of him, but she’d finally crossed the invisible barrier of trust. His kiss promised no lies.

Isabella trusted this man enough to take the leap from friend to lover.

Images of a sheer black nightie and a romantic evening by the fireplace danced behind her lids. Tonight, everything would change between them. And she was ready.

As if he guessed her thoughts, Aidan turned his head and gave a naughty wink.

She hoped the gesture was not a precursor of their evening. The moment of distraction cost him as a ball of ice and snow cracked against his jaw and he staggered back. His team deftly protected him, but Isabella couldn’t control her giggles as he shook his head and frozen flakes flew around his head in a burst.

When she recovered from her hysterical fit, he stood a few feet in front of her. His eyes gleamed wickedly. Droplets of water slid from his soaked hair and traveled over the carved lines of his face. And his hands were full of snowballs.

She sucked in her breath. “Don’t you dare!”

“Think something’s funny, Isabella?” he asked calmly, one brow raised.

She stuck both arms in front of her. “Aidan! Stay away from me.”

Then he grinned. “Never.”

As he charged, Izzy let out a shriek and raced for her life.

Chapter Four

Aidan finished putting the final touches on dinner and set out a bottle of wine. The kitchen filled with the tantalizing aromas of fresh tomatoes and garlic. He sliced crusty Italian bread and placed chunks of mozzarella on the plate, then stepped back to admire his handiwork.

Perfect. He needed everything to be perfect tonight.

Because tonight he was telling her the truth.

Aidan fought off the nervous tug in his gut and poured the wine. For the past two weeks, they’d been together every evening. Each time he tried to confess, she turned those sparkling umbrella blue eyes on his, and her smile lit up her face, until he told himself he needed more time.

But time was running out.

He was due to return to the city and his responsibilities after Christmas. The Pasta King restaurant chain was a demanding business, and as second in command, he needed to be his father’s eyes and ears. But he was tired of working in the city under his father’s reign. He’d wanted this time upstate at the cabin to really discover what he wanted. Now he knew, but had no idea how to get it.

He wanted Isabella.

But would she want him when she learned his true identity?

The question had no time to be answered. The doorbell rang.

He opened it and his breath caught. Her honey colored curls tumbled over her shoulders, and her face was open and happy, her heart literally worn on her sleeve for him to see. Aidan had never met a woman who gave herself so freely and unselfishly, not asking for anything back. She was truthful, headstrong, and passionate. She was the woman he’d been spending his whole life looking for, and tonight he wanted no more secrets between them.

“I brought pastries from the bakery.” She held up a small box.

She wore a fuchsia pink turtleneck, hip hugging jeans, and low heeled boots. Golden hoops flirted with her hair as she turned her head. Her lips were painted in bright pink to match her shirt.

“Did you sneak any before you came?” he asked, studying her with narrowed eyes.

Isabella looked shocked. “Of course not!”

“We’ll see about that.” He pulled her close and kissed her. Like old lovers, her body peaked and responded to his with unconscious ardor, as his tongue thrust into her mouth to taste and stroke. His hands came around her body to grab her buttocks and arch her closer. He swallowed her moans with masculine pleasure. “Hmm, you’re right, you weren’t lying.”

She pushed him away in mock outrage and made her way into the cabin. “Very cute. You better feed me, buster. I’m starving.”

They feasted on the meal and drank wine under the mistletoe. After two heaping plates of pasta, she leaned back in her chair with a satisfied groan. Her sated expression tempted him to satisfy her in a whole lot of other ways. Most involved her being stripped naked and lying open for him. He fought a shudder and reached for patience.

“How did you learn to cook so well?” she asked.

Aidan sipped his wine and smiled at the memory. “God, I hate to say I was a mama’s boy. But I kind of was.” She laughed. “Since I was an only child, I grew up in the kitchen. My mother cooked night and day. Homemade pasta cranked by hand. Hunks of sausage and meatballs simmering in gravy for hours. I learned how to pick a fresh vegetable and the best way to carve meat before I even hit a baseball.” He shook his head. “Cooking made her happy. She’d invite cousins, neighbors, friends to the table. Most of my memories centered around meals.”

Isabella propped her face in her hands with a dreamy expression. “That sounds so wonderful. I’d love to meet your mom.”

Pain cut through him like a dull edged knife. “She died a few years back.”

She immediately reached for his hand. “I’m so sorry, Aidan, I didn’t know. That must have been hard on you, especially so young.”

“Yeah, it pretty much sucked. My father was more of the workaholic, disciplinarian. I love him, of course, but my mother always caught the big picture. My dad looked at life with more of a narrow view, so we clashed.”

“Is this why you don’t want to be involved with his business?”

Aidan closed his eyes. He needed to tell her. Everything. His heart pounded with nervous anticipation. Would she understand? Would she forgive him for keeping the truth from her? “I want to tell you more about the business, Isabella. Why don’t I set out the pastries, put more wood on the fire, and we’ll talk?”

“Sounds like a plan.” They cleaned up together and Aidan put on a pot of coffee while she sang “A Holly Jolly Christmas” in an uneven melody that made him laugh.

“Let me use the bathroom. I’ll be right back,” she said.

“Okay, I’ll put another log on the fire.” He walked to the woodpile and reminded himself they had deep feelings for one another. This was more than a one-night stand. He wanted a permanent relationship with Isabella, and he’d bet she felt the same. The way she looked at him with her heart in her eyes couldn’t lie.

He closed the door, stoked the fire, and turned.

Then froze.

Isabella stood in the doorway. She wore a tiny black lace slip that cupped her full breasts, skimmed her curvy hips, and halted mid-thigh. Her hair tumbled around her shoulders in full burnished glory, and a faint blush touched her cheekbones as she shifted her bare feet and stared at him.

“Aidan?”

His name floated to his ears in a breathy whisper, rich with promise, husky with desire. Every thought he’d ever had, every emotion he ever experienced, all fled in the midst of the woman across the room, waiting for him to answer her.

He closed the distance between them in three quick strides and took her in his arms.

His fingers met silky, warm skin, and soft, full curves. He twisted his fingers in the thick waves of hair and tugged, exposing the delicate line of her throat and rapidly beating pulse. She moaned low in her throat and Aidan drank in her scent, punch drunk like a vampire about to feast. Her arousal drifted to his nostrils, and he bent his head to run his tongue down the vulnerable curve of her neck, nibbling, then sank his teeth gently into her skin.

She cried out and arched in his arms. With a low murmur of satisfaction, he scooped her into his arms, walked into the bedroom, and laid her on the bed.

His head pounded with an urgency he rarely felt when claiming a woman, and he shed his clothes in minutes to join her on the bed. Aidan took her mouth for a deep hungry kiss, while he tugged the delicate straps of her slip down over her shoulders. Bared to the waist, he stared at her ripe curves with delight, and she squirmed under his gaze, obviously uncomfortable at such rapt attention. Aidan bent his head, grasped one ruby nipple between his lips and sucked. The contrast between her soft skin and the hardness of her nipple made him crazy, and he rubbed his five o’clock shadow between her breasts as he kept up a steady suction. Her head tossed back and forth on the pillow as he pleasured her. Her breasts gleamed wetly in the moonlight, and he muttered his approval as he gently took one rigid tip between his teeth and tugged.

Her body shot up as sensation grabbed her. He laughed low in his throat and worked his way downward, pulling the slip inch by inch to reveal more of her body.

He kissed the flat curve of her belly and nipped at the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. The delicious scents of vanilla and spice drifted to his nostrils. Halfway drunk on her scent and taste, he tossed the slip on the floor and sucked in his breath.

She wore no panties.

“You’re so frikkin’ beautiful,” he rasped. “Look at how perfect you are for me. So ready.” Tight golden curls hid her sex, but he deliberately pushed her thighs open. After a brief hesitation, she allowed him full access, and he spread her wide, glimpsing pink swollen lips. He slipped one finger into her tight, wet heat and shuddered with the intensity of her response. Aidan realized he wouldn’t be able to wait much longer to claim her. She gasped for breath, and her arousal eased the passage of his fingers as he stroked her deep. One finger. Two. Then—

“Aidan!”

“Not yet, baby. I have to taste you first, I’ve waited too long.” He dipped his head between her spread thighs and pressed his tongue against her swollen nub.

Liquid heat rushed over him. He drowned in her sweet taste as he allowed himself to explore her most intimate folds, his tongue stroking while his thumb rotated with teasing motions around her clit. She paused on the edge of release but he kept her there, refusing to give her the strong pressure she needed to climax. His name sang in his ears as she thrashed beneath him. When his own arousal became too much, he reached over to the table and grabbed a condom. He sheathed himself quickly and paused at her entrance. “Look at me, Isabella.”

Her eyes flew open. Deep blue eyes pierced his. Foggy with need. Dazed with passion.

He surged forward and claimed her.

Home.

His whole body shuddered with pleasure as her channel squeezed him and held him tight. He pulled out inch by inch, teasing the tight bud, then lifted her thighs and plunged.

Isabella cried out and spasmed around him. He milked her orgasm and savored every nuance of her expression as she let go, but soon he neared the edge and with one last thrust he climaxed. Every muscle tightened and released in a sweet agony he never experienced. He tucked her into his body and rolled to the side, his lips buried in her hair.

They lay together in the shadows of his bedroom, her heart beating under the palm of his hand. And slept.

****

Isabella stretched her muscles in luxurious satisfaction and watched the man sleeping beside her. In her wildest fantasies, she never believed she’d have a man make love to her with so much intensity. Usually a bit hesitant, she didn’t want Aidan to think she’d be a quick roll in the hay for a holiday affair. But after two weeks in his company, she knew they had much more.

She’d fallen in love with him.

He slept with as much intensity as he worked and played. One errant blond curl rested on his forehead, and she smoothed it back, caressing the slope of his brow, his crooked nose, the hard line of his jaw. Her thumb pressed over carved, sculpted lips, and her body quickened when she thought of that mouth tasting every inch of her skin.

His body was lean and hard, his hands able to grip her and hold her still as waves of pleasure bucked through her. He filled every inch of her and fought for more space, until she felt completely invaded, her body no longer just hers. No, he’d claimed more than her body in their lovemaking session.

He claimed her heart.

His eyes flew open. The golden depths burned like the sun, then turned warm like a half-lit summer afternoon. “Hi.”

Isabella smiled back. “Hi.”

“What time is it?”

“We only slept for an hour, it’s still early. I want dessert.”

A laugh rumbled through his chest. “I didn’t sate you enough, huh?”

She fought past a blush and knew she’d lost. “You did such a good job I need sustenance. Sugar specifically.”

“Then let’s rip into those pastries.”

She grabbed his shirt and buttoned it halfway, then strode ahead of him. His lusty whistle made her giggle, and she figured she’d be ready for round two sooner than originally planned. Isabella settled herself at the table and had just secured a chocolate croissant when her phone buzzed.

Aidan munched on a cannoli while she punched the numbers in her BlackBerry. Then frowned. “It’s Liz. She marked the text urgent and wants me to call.”

“Probably wants to talk to you about her date last night. Don’t worry.”

“Yeah, but, do you mind if I give her a quick ring?”

He smiled and pressed a kiss on her lips. He smelled deliciously of chocolate chips. “Of course not. But I may eat all the pastries.”

She punched in Liz’s number and drifted into the kitchen. Her friend answered on the second ring. “Hi, what’s up? Is anything wrong?”

Liz sounded wary. “Where are you?”

“At Aidan’s.” Silence. “Liz, you’re freaking me out. What’s going on?”

“Did you have sex?”

“Liz!”

“What? We tell each other everything and this is important.”

Isabella glanced at her lover happily munching pastries and lowered her voice. “Yes. But I’m not discussing details.”

Her friend let out a relieved breath. “Thank God. Then he must have told you the truth and you know who he really is.”

A sliver of ice trickled down her spine. “What are you talking about?”

“The Pasta King, Izzy. Aidan Hunter is the son of the Pasta King. The most eligible bachelor in New York City.”