Wild Holiday Nights: Holiday RushPlaying GamesAll Night Long Page 3

  All she could think about while they’d been making those wedding bells was the kiss she’d had with him nearly a decade ago.

  She’d wondered if it would be as good now.

  It wasn’t. It was better.

  His lips were still cool from the outdoors, firm and just right. She darted her tongue out to taste him and his arms came around her, pulling her up tight against him. She slid her hands under his sweater to flatten her palms against his solid—and slightly wet—back. Gideon took over the kiss almost without her realizing it, parting her lips wider as his tongue made all kinds of promises to hers.

  Calla moaned and pressed her hips into his, and then again as his erection nudged against her belly through his slacks.

  “If you need to keep an eye on me, this is a much better way, I’d say,” she whispered into his ear.

  As soon as she said the words, Gideon’s hold loosened, and he backed away.

  “I’m sorry, Calla. I shouldn’t have done that.”

  She blinked, still not quite recovered from his touch. “Why not? And technically, by the way, I did that to you.”

  “I thought after so much time we wouldn’t have the same chemistry, or I...I don’t know what I thought.”

  She frowned. “But we do have it. And what’s wrong with it? Unless...” Her stomach dropped as she realized what could be the very large problem. “You have someone back home?”

  She’d never thought he might be attached, even married. Her eyes dropped to his left hand. No ring. But that didn’t mean anything these days. A lot of people she knew were in committed relationships without the traditional symbols.

  “Absolutely not. There’s no one.”

  Her knees almost sagged with relief.

  “Except your brother Nathan.”

  Calla froze, momentarily stunned.

  “My brother? Wait. No. I know for a fact he’s been seeing a woman he’s fairly serious about for the last year—”

  Gideon rolled his eyes. “No, not like that. Jeez. I mean, he’s my friend, and he asked me to come here to see if you were okay, not get you into bed. I’m fairly sure doing that breaks some kind of code that would allow him to shoot me if he found out.”

  Calla read between the lines as fast as Gideon spoke.

  “But you’d be interested otherwise?”

  “I’m so interested I’ll be using a lot of cold water back at my hotel tonight.”

  “So...” Calla posited what seemed to be the obvious thought. “Why does he have to find out? What business is it of his?”

  “You think he wouldn’t know if I was seeing his younger sister?”

  “I’m not talking about a long-term relationship, Gideon. I’m not moving back to Texas, and I assume you aren’t planning to move to New York, so...why not enjoy each other’s company for the holidays? I can show you the city, and you can make sure no bad men attack me.”

  “I think I would be the bad man attacking you,” he said dryly, but she could also see he was interested.

  “Sounds good to me.”

  In part, Calla almost couldn’t believe the words coming out of her own mouth, but the more she spoke, the more she convinced herself, if not Gideon.

  This was the perfect way to spend her Christmas holiday. A few days of no-strings mattress gymnastics with Gideon was suddenly all she wanted for Christmas.

  Then he shook his head. “If he asked, I’d have to tell him the truth, and it could ruin a good friendship. Not to mention the trust we have on the job. You know that trust is a serious thing.”

  She couldn’t argue the point. The wind went out of Calla’s sails as she realized she’d done the exact thing she’d promised herself she wouldn’t do—she’d thrown herself at Gideon again, only to have him walk away.

  She felt like an idiot. Humiliated twice by the same guy. Wouldn’t she ever learn?

  “Fine. You’re absolutely right, and I understand. So, if you don’t mind, I’m going to close up for the night. Your help was great. Thank you,” she added stiffly. “You can ask the police anything you want. The detective in charge was Howser. I hope you have a nice trip back.”

  With that, she walked to the door and held it open in a clear message for him to leave. The cold air rushing in reminded her of how hot he’d gotten her minutes before, adding to her resolve. If he was going to walk away this time, she was making sure it was at her invitation.

  Gideon blew out a breath. “Calla, please—”

  “Really, I do understand, Gideon. Have a safe trip.”

  When he halted his progress, pausing next to her by the door, she thought for one hopeful second that he’d changed his mind. That he might sweep her up and say the heck with her brother, but he only looked at her one more time with regret and then stepped out the door into the snow.

  Calla shut the door behind him, locked it and went back to work on her cake. She’d lied about going home to sleep. Right now the last thing she wanted was to go to bed alone.

  3

  GIDEON KNEW HE’D done the right thing—just as he’d done by walking away eight years ago.

  Doing the right thing sucked, but it was a lesson his father had drilled into him when he was very young.

  He wished he could have broken the rules this once. But Nathan wasn’t just another cop on the force; he was Gideon’s partner. Nate had trained him, and they’d worked together ever since. He’d saved Gideon’s life, and the trust they shared wasn’t something Gideon took lightly. Gideon was supposed to make sure Nate’s sister was safe—not seduce her.

  Calla’s offer of a holiday affair had been torture to turn down, especially since he hadn’t been with anyone in a while. On top of the demands of his job, his mom’s death and the resulting grief, sex had been the last thing on his mind.

  Until he’d seen Calla. Now it was all he could think about. She was right—who would know? Well, he would.

  He entered the large double doors of the local precinct where Calla had reported her break-in, announcing his arrival at the reception desk.

  Gideon looked at postings on a corkboard in the hall for a few minutes, waiting.

  “Detective Stone?”

  An older guy, short and squat, but no less tough for his stockier stature, stood behind him. Gideon could tell Detective Howser had been in the game for a while. He’d probably seen it all, and more.

  “Detective Howser. Call me Gideon. Thanks for taking a minute to talk to me.”

  “Sure, no problem,” the detective responded with a thick New York accent, waving Gideon on to follow him back to his office.

  Inside, he shut the door. “What can I do for you, Tex?”

  Gideon grinned, not minding the moniker the detective casually threw his way. “I wondered if you could give me any more information on an attempted robbery that happened four days ago at a bakery in Chelsea...”

  Awhile later, Gideon emerged from the precinct resolved not to leave the city, or Calla. Not just yet, anyway.

  The fingerprints taken from the knife belonged to a repeat offender with a long rap sheet—one that included several assaults as well as robberies and other crimes. He’d done two stints in prison already, and tended to hold a grudge. Gideon’s gut was telling him it wasn’t time to head back to Texas just yet. Howser had said they were scouring the neighborhoods to turn him up. Once Gideon knew the police had the thief in custody, then he could relax and consider his work done. However, Calla wasn’t exactly going to welcome him back into her shop, or her life.

  Returning to her shop in his rental car, he drove by to check that she was in the store, working—she was. He found himself some coffee and a sandwich, and then parked in a spot down the street from the shop, under a snow-covered tree. The streets were busy. She didn’t know his car, and Gideon was good enough
not to be spotted tailing her—and to spot anyone else who might be following her, as well.

  He settled in, watching Calla’s storefront. From a distance. Which was exactly as it should be. He had no place coming on to or kissing Calla Michaels. This was the price he’d pay for getting too close in the first place.

  It made for a long afternoon and evening. Calla didn’t even leave to get dinner; she worked straight through, sitting at her table. The crowd in front of the shop seemed a bit larger today.

  Did Calla’s family have any clue what amazing work she was doing, and the effort she put into it? When Nathan had said she ran a bakery, Gideon had pictured doughnuts and Italian bread, but what Calla did was as much art as baking. Clearly as dedicated as she was talented, she easily worked the same kind of hours that he—or any of her family members—did.

  He needed to stretch his legs and got out of the car to take a turn around the neighborhood while keeping an eye on the shop. It was considerably less busy this time of night, when Calla’s Cakes was one of the last businesses open.

  Shortly after midnight, the lights in the shop turned off and Calla finally emerged from the front door. She’d mentioned that her apartment was within walking distance when they’d been chatting in the bakery. Gideon locked his car and followed on foot.

  He’d make sure she was safely tucked inside for the night, then he could come back and move the car to a spot near her home. So much for the pricey hotel room he’d booked, but this was the job. It was going to be a long, cold night, he thought as he pulled his coat around him, keeping a safe distance behind Calla from the opposite side of the street.

  She walked with the crisp step he saw other New Yorkers use, moving through the dark street to her destination as if completely focused on that task alone. The area seemed safe enough—still, it was late, and she was alone.

  Five minutes later, she turned to climb the stairs toward the wrought iron doors of an older brick apartment building. There was a decorated tree on one side of the yard, and a menorah across the walk. Several tenants had decorated their windows as well, making it very cheerful and bright. Near the top, Calla slipped her hand inside her bag for her keys.

  The next few seconds were a blur. Everything happened so fast that Gideon was unprepared when he saw a shadow dart out and grab Calla from behind, dragging her back down the steps and into a small courtyard.

  Gideon was across the street in seconds, reaching for his gun—which he didn’t have, and wasn’t allowed to carry, in the city. That didn’t stop him, though.

  Dashing into the darkness where the intruder had dragged Calla, Gideon called her name and heard her muffled reply. Someone was covering her mouth. He saw them scuffling in the corner under a barren tree and ran in that direction, taking the attacker by the back of his coat collar and pulling.

  “Get off her!” Gideon growled. Primal emotion ran through him as he yanked the man back from Calla, and then...extreme pain made him gasp.

  Hollers of agony filled the quiet courtyard. A tenant in the building yelled something from a window up above them. Gideon was knocked back on his butt into the snow. Someone fell on top of him—the attacker? He couldn’t see; his eyes were on fire. He grasped for something, an arm, a leg, but there was nothing.

  “Calla? Where are you? Are you okay?” Gideon pushed himself up from the wet ground and saw a blurry image of Calla appear in his view.

  “I’m right here, Gideon, where did you come from? Oh, my, I’m so sorry, look at you, let’s get inside...”

  He could feel her shaking as she took his hand, her voice desperate. Afraid. Gideon shook his head, knowing better than to rub his eyes, though he wanted to do so desperately.

  “Where is he?”

  “He ran off. I sprayed him at the same time you pulled him away from me. I didn’t know you were right there, and I got you, too. I’ll call a cab to get to the ER.”

  “No, that’s not necessary. I need some water, please.”

  He could see, more or less, out of one eye; the other was worse. She led him up three flights of stairs, repeating that she was so, so sorry as they went. Once inside her small apartment, she led him to the kitchen.

  “Do you have any grease-fighting detergent?” he asked.

  “Yes, my dish soap.”

  “Could you put some in a large bowl, very diluted?”

  He watched her bustle around the kitchen with his one good eye, the burning in the other almost unbearable. When she put the bowl in front of him, he closed his eyes and pushed his face into the soapy water for as long as he could, then came out, rinsed under a clean spray in the sink, and repeated the process.

  “A towel?”

  She pushed one into his hand and he dried off, starting to breathe more easily as the pain subsided.

  “Damn it, that stuff hurts,” he said, leaning back against the wall, opening his eyes slowly. “Can you replace that soapy water with some new so I can do it again?”

  “Sure. Is it helping?”

  “Yes, very much. It’s the only thing that can dissolve the oils in the pepper spray from your skin—you just have to be careful to keep them from running back into your eyes when you rinse.”

  “I see. Well, if it helps at all, I think the guy who grabbed me got the most of it.”

  “Good.”

  Gideon rinsed his face and eyes again, and after a half hour of doing so, felt considerably better. Thank goodness civilian-issue pepper spray was a lot weaker than the type they used on the force, which could burn your skin and even irritate your lungs. This was bad enough.

  He looked at Calla, who hadn’t taken her coat off yet. She was pale, with deep shadows under her eyes. Her obvious concern only accentuated them. As his vision cleared, he also noticed a scrape on her hand as she lifted it to remove the bowl from the counter, and there was a light bruise forming on her cheek.

  His fury at the idea of someone hurting her far outweighed the lingering sting of the pepper spray.

  “Was it the same guy? Did you see him?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know. He stayed behind me, though his voice sounded the same, but I was so frightened and it all happened so fast.”

  “Let me see,” he said, stepping forward and taking her hand in his, looking at the scrape and then putting his hand under her jaw. He touched the bruise gently and was relieved to find it rubbed away, only a smudge of grime.

  It didn’t make him any less angry.

  He started to pull his hand away, but hers rose to cover it. “Thank you for being there. I’m so sorry I got you with the spray.”

  Her voice shook, and a tear slipped down her cheek. Gideon groaned, pulling her in close and holding her until she stopped shaking.

  “He’s probably regretting grabbing you tenfold right now. Good for you for thinking fast and being able to use the spray. I only wish I’d seen him sooner.” He lowered his lips to kiss her soft dark hair. “Do you want me to look at that scrape?”

  She shook her head. “It’s no big deal. I need to clean up, though. I’ll be fine.”

  Tough, smart, strong. Calla could take care of herself, but it didn’t stop Gideon from wanting to help.

  “It was possibly your attacker from the store—unlike a lot of criminals, this one has a history of coming back for more. The NYPD should have told you that. We have to report this.”

  “I will, in the morning. He’s probably long gone now, and it might not even have been him. I can’t be sure. I’m so tired. I really need to clean up and sleep.”

  Gideon believed it. She looked ready to fall asleep on her feet.

  “Okay. You do that. Lock the doors. I’ll be outside if you need me. Hand me your cell phone so I can give you my number.” Gideon planned on talking to Howser as soon as he left. If the attacker was suffering from being spr
ayed, he’d be slowed down and blinded, perhaps seeking help—the perfect time to catch him.

  She blinked up at him, frowning. “Outside? Why would you be outside?”

  “I know you don’t want me around, but I’m not leaving, or letting you out of my sight, until we know this guy is caught.”

  Realization dawned in her expression. “You were watching me.”

  “I talked to the detective on your case, and he filled me in on some disturbing details about this guy. I couldn’t leave without knowing you were okay. It’s no big deal. It’s my job.”

  She looked up at him, a little less blurry. “It’s a big deal to me. Thank you.”

  Gideon didn’t expect that—he expected her to be ticked off—so he was surprised at her thanks.

  “Um, sure. Listen, why don’t you take that shower, and I’m going to call this in.”

  There was a breath of silence between them, and she looked up at him. “Why don’t you call it in and then join me in the shower?”

  Gideon’s heart tripped over itself, his body hardening almost instantaneously. Before he could object, she cut in again.

  “I seem to be making a habit of throwing myself at you,” she said with a slight smile. “But I really don’t want to be alone right now, Gideon. Please don’t leave again.”

  Damn it. Of all the appeals she might have made, that one socked him in the gut.

  “Please,” she whispered, lifting up and pressing a kiss to his mouth.

  She continued kissing him until he gave in, unable to resist a deeper taste. Gideon knew he wouldn’t be walking away from Calla again that night.

  * * *

  CALLA’S FEARS WERE forgotten as soon as she felt Gideon relent, his body relaxing as he pulled her in closer, his mouth finding hers again. They took their time now, getting to know each other, understanding that there was no need to rush.

  “I guess I could use a shower, too,” he said against her mouth, making her smile. “After I make this call.”