Christmas with Him: The Tycoon's Christmas Proposal / A Bravo Christmas Reunion / Marry-Me Christmas. Jackie Braun
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some of these calories,” she suggested instead.
“A walk? It’s snowing,” he said.
“Yes, I hear it does that in Denver. No need to worry. I won’t melt.” Her eyebrows arched. “Or are you afraid that you will?”
“It’s getting dark, Eve.”
Dawson’s home was surrounded by a private, almost parklike setting with mature trees and meandering paths. “The landscape lighting looks adequate for a leisurely stroll.”
“The paths haven’t been shoveled recently. A good three inches have fallen since the grounds crew went through last.”
She batted that excuse aside, too. “That’s all right. I’ve got boots.”
Of course, the boots in question were unlined and made of supple Italian leather with three-inch heels that hardly made them suitable for a hike—or even a stroll—in inclement weather, but she was willing to take her chances.
“I don’t know.”
Like a veteran poker player, Eve upped the ante. “I promise to protect you.”
But it was Dawson who called. “Maybe I’m not the one who needs protecting.”
“Is that a threat?” she inquired.
He set aside his napkin and pushed back from the table. Gaze direct and challenging, he said, “There’s only one way to find out. Are you still game?”
“Please.” She snorted. “That question is insulting. I’ve never backed down from a challenge.”
“I didn’t think you had.” One side of his mouth lifted, tugging her pulse rate right along with it. “I’ll just get our coats.”
Outside, the air was crisp. It stole Eve’s breath, making her glad for the scarf that she’d wound around her neck. She tucked her chin into it now.
“It’s lovely here,” she commented. And it was. Winter had wrought its magic, covering everything in a pristine layer of white that sparkled like diamonds in the moonlight.
“The grounds were what attracted me to this property in the first place,” Dawson admitted.
“I can see why.”
“If you think it’s lovely now, you should see it in the spring or summer. The flowerbeds are incredible.”
“I wouldn’t have taken you for a green thumb.”
“Oh, it’s black, believe me. I know my limits, which is why I hired the services of a professional.”
She chuckled. “The economy loves people who know their limits since it helps create all sorts of job opportunities.”
“Like professional shoppers?”
“Exactly.”
“Well, I’m glad to do my part for my country.” His voice grew soft. “I haven’t walked out here in the winter in … a long time.”
Eve figured she knew exactly how long, so she remained silent.
After a moment, he added, “I used to love the winter. I looked forward to the first snowfall.”
“Me, too.” She scuffed her foot along the walkway, ruffling the blanket of white, before bending down to scoop up a handful. “Snow made everything seem so clean, so perfect,” she said as she compacted the snow into a ball.
“And your life wasn’t perfect.”
“No. But whose is?” She shrugged off the melancholy of childhood memories and changed the subject. “You know, this is really good packing snow.”
“So I see. Are you thinking of making a snowman or something?”
“Or something.” When she smiled his eyes narrowed.
“You wouldn’t.”
“Wouldn’t what?” she asked innocently.
He backed up a couple of steps. “You wouldn’t throw that thing at me.”
“And if I do?”
He folded his arms. “You do and you’ll be asking for trouble.”
“Dawson, Dawson,” Eve said, shaking her head. “What did I tell you about me and challenges?”
“That you never back—” The snowball hit him in the chest before he could finish. He gaped at her. “I can’t believe you just did that.”
Eve bent down and scooped up a second handful. “Then this is going to come as a complete shock,” she said, tossing the snow right into his face.
Her laughter followed the ball’s flight path, but her mirth was short-lived. Dawson didn’t even pause to wipe it off before he launched himself in her direction. She feinted right to avoid him and managed to get a full ten feet up the path before he caught up with her, grabbing her around her waist. Eve skidded on the walk, betrayed by her boots. Both she and Dawson wound up going down. Snow cushioned her fall. Snow and man. Somehow she wound up partway on top of him.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“I think I broke my heel.”
“Are you in pain?”
She laughed as she clarified, “The heel of my boot. It got caught on something. What are you doing, anyway? We were supposed to be having a snowball fight.”
“We still are.” And with that he brought up his snow-filled hand and rubbed it over her cheek. It wasn’t only the cold that had her shivering. Dawson had shifted so that he was now mostly on top of her.
“You know, when I was a kid I didn’t believe in taking any prisoners. But I’ve decided to make an exception in your case. You’re too pretty to annihilate.”
“So, I’m your prisoner.”
“Yes.”
“Hmm.” She pulled a considering face. “I guess this isn’t so bad.”
“That’s because the torture hasn’t begun yet.” His gaze was on her lips.
“Torture?” she repeated in a husky voice she barely recognized as her own. “What kind of torture?”
“This,” he whispered just before his mouth met hers.
CHAPTER TEN
DAWSON could think of a million reasons why he should stop the kiss before it progressed any further. First among them was the fact that he and Eve were outside lying on the snow-covered ground. She apparently didn’t mind. When he started to pull away, she wrapped her arms around his neck and held him in place, taking where a moment ago she’d been the one giving.
Her arms weren’t the only thing wrapped around him. Her legs were, too. One was hooked over his calf, the other angled over his thigh, anchoring him in place. Their bodies fit together perfectly. He could tell that despite the layers of their clothes, and it fueled both his imagination and his desire.
It had been a long time—a very long time—since he’d lain atop of woman. His body had no trouble remembering the pleasure. Need surged through him with tsunami force, shredding his control until it hung by a thread. Though Dawson knew he was playing with fire, he rocked forward slightly anyway.
Eve moaned.
He did it again.
This time they both moaned, and that last frayed thread of his control snapped. It was only when Eve’s icy hands moved beneath jacket and sweater and came into contact with the bare skin just above the waistband of his jeans that reality came slamming back.
“This is insane,” he said as he came up for air.
There didn’t seem to be enough of it, especially when