Baby, It's Cold Outside. Cathy Yardley
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“Mind if I light a fire?” he asked to give himself something to do besides ruminate on what exactly her business might be.
“Please do,” she said before shutting the bedroom door behind her.
Within minutes he had a small fire going in the hearth. The room smelled like spiced apple cider. He’d probably be asleep in minutes, he realized. He hadn’t felt this relaxed since he’d returned to Tall Pines.
He heard the bedroom door open and he turned. “I can’t thank you enough…”
His words died on his lips.
She’d changed, all right.
Emily’s hair tumbled in loose auburn waves, dancing slightly below her shoulders. She was wearing a rich red velvet robe with Stanfield Arms embroidered on the crest. He wondered absently if she was wearing anything under the robe.
Just like that, his body went hard as steel and all thoughts of sleep fled. He bit back a groan. “That must be some business.”
Her ivory cheeks flooded with color, and she avoided his gaze. “It’s nine o’clock at night. I just want to make sure that one of my…special guests…is comfortable.”
Colin didn’t say a word.
“Sheets, blankets and pillows are in the cupboard in the hallway there.” She pointed, still not looking at him. “The fridge is stocked if you’re hungry, and if you need anything, just dial eight for the front desk.”
“When will you be back?” he asked.
Finally she met his gaze.
The heat in her eyes could have set the room on fire.
“I don’t know when I’ll be back,” she said quietly. “So don’t wait up.”
IT WAS RISKY. Possibly even stupid, Emily thought as she belted her robe tighter around her waist. But she was going to do it anyway.
She was going to J. P. Webster’s room wearing only a silk shortie nightgown and one of the hotel robes and—if everything went perfectly—she was going to have sex.
She could only imagine what Colin was thinking of her little announcement. She’d done everything but say, “Make yourself at home, I’m off to get laid.” The look he’d given her as she’d shut the door was one of shock mixed with something else she couldn’t quite identify. She hoped it wasn’t shame on her behalf. Still, Colin was a world-famous hotshot architect now, and if rumors were true, he had romanced women all over the continent. Several continents, actually, if his mother’s complaints were to be believed. “Always with a different girl every month,” she’d griped loudly at the last Otter Lodge pancake breakfast. “Last month, a lawyer from Hong Kong…the month before, a model from Brazil….” So she’d be damned if she let herself be judged by Mr. Commitmentphobic, especially since this was going to be her first fling ever.
Emily felt heat on her cheeks. She was blushing. She knew it.
Please, please let him be cute and let me go through with this. She couldn’t face another restless night. She wanted to feel the delicious release that only a man could provide—even if it was only temporary.
She got to room five and knocked on the door. “J.P.?”
The door opened slowly. She took a deep breath.
A beautiful blond woman, also in a robe, was standing there. “Can I help you?”
Emily goggled momentarily. This she hadn’t anticipated.
“I’m sorry.” Of course he would have brought his girlfriend! God, I’m an idiot! “I was looking for J. P. Webster. I didn’t mean for it to be so late….”
“That’s quite all right,” the woman said genially. “You’ve found her.”
“Her?”
“J.P. stands for Joy Patricia. My friends call me Joy.” She held out her hand, and, dumbstruck, Emily shook it. “I’m sorry…what’s your name?”
“Oh. Right. I’m Emily Stanfield, the owner of the hotel.” And a moron. “I just wanted to stop by and make sure that you had everything you needed.”
Unfortunately J.P. did not have anything Emily needed.
“Emily! It’s so nice to finally meet you in person. And thank you again for suggesting I stay at your inn instead of spending the holiday alone while my family was in Bermuda. I got in and fell in love with this place,” Joy enthused, seeming not to notice Emily’s discomfort. “It’s everything you said it was and more.”
“Well, that is high praise,” Emily said. “And I’m glad it’s made such a good impression. I’m sure you’re exhausted. I’ll just say good night and let you sleep….”
“Are you sure you didn’t want to hang out, talk shop?” Joy asked.
Emily shook her head. Considering the real reason she’d come down, she doubted she could spend the evening discussing linen-use rates and remodel tips. “Just wanted to make sure you’re comfortable.”
“I love these robes, by the way,” Joy said, rubbing her hand over the sleeve. “I see you do, too.”
Emily was blushing again. “Normally I don’t meet business associates dressed this casually,” she said, hugging her arms and making sure her robe was still tight around her. “But I was, er, about to go to bed.”
“I see.” Emily could have sworn she saw a glimmer of humor in the woman’s eyes. “Well, good night, then.”
“Good night,” Emily echoed, then turned and made her escape.
She got in the elevator, turning the key for the top floor…and then froze.
Oh, great. Bad enough that she’d just had one of the most humiliating mistakes of her life. Now, she had Colin Reese to deal with.
When the door opened, he was making up a makeshift bed on the sofa in pajama bottoms and nothing else.
He looked good enough to eat.
All the frustration that had been building up and threatening to explode, especially in the past few months, seemed to bubble to the surface at the look of his half-naked body. Her hands itched to stroke over all that chiseled chest.
Thankfully she had the fiasco with Joy/J.P. still stinging her ego or she’d probably do something she’d regret. Like jump him.
He glanced at her, puzzled. “Forget something?”
“No,” she responded coolly. “I got finished sooner than I thought. Now I’m tired and I’m going to bed.”
Colin smirked at her. “How’d business go?”
“Fine.” Damn him for bringing it up.
He studied her as she stepped in front of him. Then he put a hand out, surprising her by touching her shoulder gently.
“You look sort of upset.”
“I’m fine,” she repeated. She ran her fingers through her hair, a gesture of frustration. “That is, I will be fine.”
“Listen, I’ve been really stressed this week,” he said. “I noticed you had a bottle of wine, but I didn’t want to open it, especially just for me. Care to join me?”
She hesitated. “I really shouldn’t,” she murmured as she breathed in some of his woodsy-smelling cologne.
“Just to unwind a bit,” he coaxed. “It’ll help you sleep.”
Emily laughed at that. Sit next to this unbelievably sexy half-dressed man, drinking wine in front of a crackling fire…and he thought that was going to make her drowsy?
He had