Page 11 of Second Chance Christmas

Caught off guard, Cassidy gasped, her eyes wide when they met his. “Leonardo,” she said, trying to conceal the sudden burst of desire that was heating her insides.

“Yes, Cassie-May?”

“Don’t call me that.”

He moved his finger against her flat stomach and she trembled.

“What would you prefer me to call you?” He asked, dropping a kiss into the curve of her neck, so she trembled against him.

“Nothing,” she said, voice thick with desire. “I want you to forget you know me.”

“Liar,” he laughed. “You want me to make love to you again,” he said, his other hand coming around to her bottom, pulling her forward, against his body.

She moaned then, tilting her head backwards, and he nipped the flesh of her throat with his teeth.

“God, Leonardo,” she whimpered. “I wish—I wish—I didn’t feel—,”

“But you do,” he squeezed her bottom. “You want me, and I want you.” He straightened then, pulling away from her. “So here’s what I suggest.”

She could hardly think straight, much less speak. She crossed her arms over her chest in an attempt to hide how much she was trembling.

“I’m going to go do this thing with the kids, and I’d like Audrey to come along, but that’s up to you,” he said with a shrug, making her feel small for having said ‘no’ to such a great opportunity. “Then, later tonight, you’re going to come to The Lamb and Stag. I’m booking a room for the rest of my stay.”

Her lips parted at his suggestion, her heart racing with the sudden jerk of desire.

“Why?” She whispered, closing her eyes on a wave of white hot need.

“Because I want to sleep with you, and you want me to sleep with you. It’s simple.”

There weretwo pubs in town, and The Lamb and Stag was by far the nicest. A boutique establishment that catered to the well-to-do tourists who were heading into the country for a quiet weekend, the rooms were sumptuous and generously proportioned, and there was a small pub and restaurant downstairs. The size though was no indication of quality: the food was world-class, with a Michelin-starred chef behind the grills.

She’d stayed in this hotel with Grant, when he’d come through this way campaigning one year. He’d been keen to show off to all and sundry in the bar, and Cassidy had cringed at his gauche sense of self-importance and self-aggrandizement. She told herself that was why her knees were knocking as she entered the restaurant and looked around for Leonardo.

Unable to spy him, she approached the bar, where a pretty young girl with curly blonde hair smiled. “Cassidy?”

She nodded, bemused.

“I have a key here for you.” She reached beneath the bar and handed it over. “Your room’s at the top of the stairs, third on the right. Let me know if you need anything, won’t you?”

Cassidy curled her fingers around the key, her heart in her throat.

There was still time to turn back. To run away from the craziness of this notion.

But why?

Why should she run from this? Why shouldn’t she stop and enjoy what Leonardo was offering? When was the last time she’d done something just for herself?

Pulse thundering through her veins, she ascended the steps, head bent forward out of habit, then turned right and counted the doors. At Leonardo’s room, she stopped, hesitated, moving the key from one hand to the other before raising her fist to the door and knocking. It felt wrong somehow to use the key, even though he’d left it for her.

Leonardo appeared only a moment later, pulling the door inwards, eyes dragging over her.

“Hi again.” His grin was a sexy, disheveled smile and her insides predictably turned to mush.

“Well,” she snapped. “May I come in?”

He arched a brow. “You never used to be this bad tempered.”

“I never used to be a lot of things,” she muttered. “Life happens.”

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