Page 15 of Prognosis Christmas Baby

God, this was getting way out of hand. They’d spent a fortnight studiously avoiding each other. The zing between them was still there but it was as if he’d decided to crank back the vibe. He didn’t flirt. He was polite, friendly.

And that suited her just fine.

In fact, she was very grateful for his detachment and returned it in the same spirit. But tonight it was if a channel of energy had opened up across the table between them, a portal visible only to them, and the bounds they’d subliminally put on their relationship had been sucked away.

Nash returned to the table with a glass of beer and looked directly at her, his gaze grazing her face before dropping to the V neckline of her T-shirt. Then he flicked it up and Maggie could see the raw hunger in his eyes.

She stood. She couldn’t bear it any longer. If she didn’t leave now she was going to drag him into the loo just to get it out of their system.

‘I’m off,’ she announced. There was a chorus of protest but Maggie waved it all away.

‘Me too.’ Nash stood, his beer untouched. ‘Do you think you could give me a lift?’ he asked, looking directly at her.

Maggie swallowed, hoping the heat between them wasn’t as obvious to everyone else. ‘I’m getting an Uber.’

‘Good. We can share.’

The desire in his gaze light up his blue eyes like a beacon and scared her witless. But she nodded anyway.

There was quite a crowd at the ride share point and Maggie’s heart belted along at triple time as they stood side by side, hyper aware of the people around them.

‘What are we going to do about this, Maggie May?’

Maggie heard the murmur of his voice near her ear and knew they were standing at a crossroads. The wise thing to do would be to stick to her side of the path. But as she looked up into his face she knew she wanted him to kiss her more than she’d wanted anything in the last decade, and she knew she was powerless to resist.

Tonight, anyway.

She glanced around at the people behind, relieved to see they were too engrossed in their own conversations to be paying any heed to theirs.

‘One night,’ she said, amazed at the steadiness of her voice as she took charge of her destiny ignoring the bongo-drum of her pulse. ‘One night only.’

Nash’s heart crashed to a brief standstill in his chest before galloping madly. He searched her gaze for a moment. He’d expected her to knock him back, to persist with her denial. But she was looking at him calmly. Intently.

No doubts. No Maggie of old.

Just double chocolate fudge brownie eyes sucking him in, tempting him further. And one night was good. Enough to quench the attraction but not for it to be misconstrued as anything other than two adults having a good time.

Perfect.‘Works for me.’

Maggie breathed again. ‘How far away do you live?’

‘Ten minutes.’

‘I’m closer.’

Her Uber pulled up. ‘Get in,’ he said, opening the door.

A trill of lust squirmed through Maggie’s abdomen at what she’d just initiated, and her hands trembled a little before her legs kicked into action. She hesitated at the door for a moment then Nash smiled at her like he already knew all her secrets and wild horses wouldn’t have kept her out of the cab.

She slid across the seat, greeting the driver, aware of Nash like she’d never been aware of anyone before as he scooted across the seat. He moved in close, draping his arm along the back of the seat, crowding her, surrounding her.

He nuzzled her ear and her neck, and when his hand skimmed her thigh, slowly creeping up one denim-clad leg, Maggie almost whimpered out loud she was so turned on. She should have been mortified that they were necking like teenagers but she was so utterly caught up in his heat and his smell and the sexual squall lashing her insides and scrambling her thought processes, she couldn’t have cared less.

She wanted to feel his lips on her so badly she turned her face towards him, her mouth seeking his as she clutched at his shirt, fisting it. ‘Nash,’ she whimpered as his lips brushed lightly against hers. Soft, teasing. She clutched his thigh, trying to anchor herself in the maelstrom.

Nash felt her desperate whimper right down to his toes and knew her torment. He wanted to tear her clothes off right here and now, push her back against the seat and have his way with her, audience or not.

And if he deepened the kiss that’s exactly what would happen. ‘Shh, Maggie,’ he whispered, kissing her forehead, her eyes, her cheek. ‘Nearly there.’

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