A Christmas Seduction. Daire Denis St.

a writer, huh?”

      “Yes.” She liked being called a writer.

      She leaned back and the horse stopped.

      “Miss Jolie,” Thad murmured. “You need to sit up.”

      “Sorry.”

      “So...” he said. “You’ve never touched a dog, never ridden a horse. Now look at you. This day is full of firsts for you.”

      “That’s my goal for this trip. To try new things, every day.”

      “It’s a good motto.”

      The other horses were getting farther and farther ahead. Jolie didn’t mind. She liked feeling as though it was just her and Thad on this ride, cozied up together, getting to know one another...

      Suddenly an unpleasant thought intruded. “I suppose this is nothing new for you.”

      “Riding? It’s part of the job description.”

      “No. I mean, taking care of the guests.”

      His arms stiffened around her. “And when you say ‘taking care of,’ what exactly do you mean?”

      “You know...flirting with the guests.”

      “Are you asking if I go around kissing guests on a regular basis?”

      She shrugged. “Maybe.”

      He transferred the reins to his left hand and gently caressed her thigh with his right. “I do not go around kissing guests. And may I remind you who kissed who first?”

      She covered his wandering hand. Not because she wanted him to stop; only because she couldn’t think straight when he was doing that. “I was excited. It was meant to be a little peck.”

      “That wasn’t a peck.”

      “You’re the one who made it into something more,” she insisted, smiling as she recalled the kiss. Again.

      “Is that the story you’re going with?”

      “Mmm-hmm.” Jolie marveled at how easy it was to banter with this man. Along with her lack of skills with animals, repartee was another art she had not even come close to perfecting in her twenty-eight years.

      “You must be a very good writer, because you’ve got quite an imagination on you.”

      She laughed, partly because she was enjoying herself and also because Thad had just voiced her thoughts. She’d never had that happen before.

      Feeling good, Jo said, “Can I ask you something?”

      “Anything.”

      “Last night...” She hesitated, but only for a millisecond. “Did you see me...inside the tub?”

      He leaned close, his mouth right beside her ear. “You mean did I see you naked?”

      “Yes,” she whispered, closing her eyes.

      “Well now, a gentleman would lie and say no.” He took a deep breath, like he was inhaling her scent. “The question is—” his breath sifted the hair at the side of her head, making her shiver “—would you like me to be a gentleman...or not?”

       4

      One of the highlights of a trip is to experience new customs. Believe it or not, this is possible even in your own country.

      Jo Duval

      WOULD SHE LIKE HIM to be a gentleman or not? Oh, good Lord. What kind of question was that?

      The best kind.

      Jolie wriggled in the saddle. For some reason, her movement made Thad grunt and shift in response. She only heard the faint sound because he was still so close, his body fused to her back, his face hovering just above her left shoulder.

      She cleared her throat. “I’d like the truth.”

      He turned, threading his fingers through hers. Such an intimate gesture.

      Leaning down even closer—his lips within touching distance of her ear—he whispered, “I think you know the answer.”

      “I do.” She wondered if he heard her, because the words were more air than sound.

      “Are you shocked?”

      She shook her head.

      He let her hand go in order to capture her chin and turn her face so their gazes could meet. His eyes reflected the bright sun, giving his rugged features an almost otherworldly quality. “I apologize for the inappropriateness.”

      The lines bracketing his eyes deepened, telling Jo he was not sorry in the least.

      She wet her lips and his gaze dropped to her mouth. Her stomach swirled in anticipation of something. Another kiss, maybe?

      Oh, yes, please!

      Thad’s lids slid half-closed and Jolie lifted her chin in invitation.

      Waiting.

      She licked her lips again.

      Nothing happened.

      “Uh, Ms. Jolie?” Thad coughed or laughed—it was hard to tell with her eyes shut.

      She opened them. The horse had stopped moving. She turned in the saddle. All the other horses were circled around, facing them. Curious glances and secretive smiles from the guests and hosts made Jolie’s cheeks heat. She sat up straight, removing contact between herself and Thad.

      Dillon cleared his throat. “Plenty of good trees to choose from here.” He dismounted. “We’re looking for one about nine feet tall.” He reached up high, showing everyone about how big the tree should be. “Anything catch your eye?”

      “How about that one?” Zak called, pointing to a large tree just to Dillon’s right.

      Dillon circled around the tree, checking out the branches and the height. “I think this one is pretty near perfect. Any objections?”

      “Looks good to me.”

      “I like it.”

      “It’s lovely.”

      “Thad? You’ve got the ax?”

      “Of course I do. You know me—always prepared.”

      Why did just the sound of the man’s voice send shivers down her spine? And then when Thad took her hands gently in his and gave her the reins? Shivers coursed over her shoulders and ran the length of her arms.

      “You hold tight to these, Ms. Jolie, while I go help with the tree.” As he leaned forward to dismount, he rasped, “And don’t think I’m not going to finish what was started back there on the trail. I mean to kiss you like you’ve never been kissed before.”

      Jolie’s doe-eyed gaze and wide parted mouth stole the air right out of Thad’s lungs. Lord, the woman was a looker. He hadn’t seen it so much last night; he’d been too focused on her fear of the dogs. Then there was the tub, and he’d been too intent on teasing her to really notice her looks. Her nudity? Oh, hell yes, he’d noticed that just fine.

      But now, with her cheeks pink from the air—or was that a blush?—and her brown-gold eyes shining in the light, she was something else. How he’d wanted to taste those lips again. Particularly when she was apparently so willing, her chin tilted up, waiting, expectant, so close...so sweet.

      Someone tugged on his sleeve.

      Gloria stood there, smiling up at him, though something in her clear blue gaze told him she was none too pleased. She spoke in a harsh whisper through her fake smile. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

      “Why, Ms. Gloria.” He held up the