A Bravo For Christmas. Christine Rimmer

he enjoyed the way it tasted in his mouth. “You have to know that what you’re giving me here just sounds like a bunch of excuses for you not to have to take a chance with a guy.”

      She really hated that he was pretty much right, so she dug up another objection. “Well, you have to know that my brother Tom hates you.” Tom used to work for Bravo Steelworks. It hadn’t ended well.

      Dare studied his boots for a second or two, then glanced back up at her. “I wouldn’t say Tom hates me exactly.”

      “But you have to admit he doesn’t like you very much.”

      “Ava.” A weary little breath escaped him. “I don’t care what our families say. I don’t care what anyone says.”

      “Well, I do care. I love them, all of them. Dearly. But they all think they know what’s good for me, and they simply don’t. I don’t want to go out because when I do, I never hear the end of it. So, well, if you and I were to, um, start seeing each other, I wouldn’t want anyone to know, okay?” She backed up and dropped to the edge of the bed behind her. “Actually, I would prefer it if you didn’t even know.”

      A low chuckle escaped him. “You’re a difficult woman, you know that? You always have been.”

      “Which only proves you should show some good sense and stop chasing me all over your sister’s house.”

      “But I like chasing you.” God. The way he said that. Rough and low, with enough heat to make her feel she might burst into flame. He held her gaze for a long count of five. Electricity seemed to arc in the still air between them. “And I know you’re offering something. I just can’t figure out what it is.”

      Her throat clutched when he said that, and she realized he was right. She did want to offer him something: herself. Just for the holidays, just between the two of them.

      Was there any chance he would go for something like that—and if he would, did she really want to follow through on it?

      As she considered the very real possibility that she’d lost her mind due to long-term sexual deprivation, Darius left off leaning on the door and came closer. She watched him approach, her skin all prickly with awareness, her breath coming a little too shallow and too fast.

      The bed dipped slightly as he sat beside her. “All right,” he said. “If not dinner and a movie, then what?”

      She turned her head, met his eyes—and put it right out there. “I just want a man for Christmas, okay? No strings, no dates, nobody else knowing about it. Just a Christmas fling. You, me and the holidays. And we’re over and done on January 1.”

       Chapter Three

      There was a moment that stretched into forever. Darius stared into her eyes. She knew he would look away any second.

      But he never did.

      She broke first with a low cry. “Oh, God.” She face-palmed, because what else could a girl do at a moment like this? “Is that tacky and awful?”

      “Not awful in the least,” he said gently. Evenly. “Look at me, Ava.” He waited until she lifted her head and faced him again. “You’re on.”

      As she gaped at him in equal parts wonder and disbelief, there was a tap on the door. “Dinner in five,” called a woman’s voice. Ava wasn’t sure who. And what did it matter who called them to dinner?

      Nothing seemed real. She’d just made a deal with Darius Bravo to have a Christmas affair.

      Darius called, “Be right out.” And footsteps sounded, moving away from the door. He asked, “You okay?”

      “Oh, I don’t think so.” She made herself stand, though her knees felt like rubber bands.

      Before she could turn and race to the door, he caught her hand. “We’re not finished here.”

      She gave a slight tug, but he didn’t release her. Her skin felt on fire where he touched her. “I...have to check on Sylvie. Make sure her hands are washed before dinner.”

      “I’ll help.”

      A weak laugh escaped her. “Really. I can manage. Just...let me go.”

      That did it. He released her, and she felt a sharp stab of regret as the connection broke.

      Oh, she was a mess. She never should have told him her fantasy, never should have asked him to participate in it with her. Never should have even let him lead her into this room.

      There were so many nevers running through her mind right now—starting with how she never should have said she’d be waiting for him naked.

      Really, she didn’t like herself much at the moment. She was acting like the kind of woman she despised, one of those girls who crooked her finger at a man with one hand and showed him the flat of her palm with the other. A c’mere, c’mere—get away, get away kind of girl.

      “Ava.”

      “Mmm?”

      “It’s going to be fine,” he promised. “Better than fine.” How could he possibly know that? “We’ll talk more later.”

      She should tell him never mind, should speak up right now and say, Forget it. I lost my mind for a second there, but I’m all better now...

      But then he instructed gently, “Go on. See about Sylvie.”

      And she thought how he was a much better guy than she used to give him credit for, that he was not only killer-hot, but also tender, sweet and funny—and maybe she should have given him a chance all those years and years ago. Truly, if she wanted a man for the holidays and he wanted to be that man for her, well, why shouldn’t they both get what they wanted for Christmas this year?

      “Go now,” he warned, teasing and low. “Or I’m coming with you.”

      That did it. She turned and left him sitting there.

      * * *

      The rest of the afternoon and early evening went by without another word shared between her and Darius. They sat across and down from each other at the long dining room table, which was so packed with Bravos everyone had to be careful to tuck their elbows in close to their sides. The food was amazing. Clara put apples and chestnuts in the stuffing and a combination of spices that had everyone coming around for seconds and thirds.

      Twice, Ava caught Dare watching her. But as soon as she met his eyes, he just smiled and looked away. She tried to forget about those moments in the upstairs bedroom, to put all that from her mind and enjoy Thanksgiving with the Bravos, but she kept zoning out during conversations.

      Nell asked her twice if something was bothering her. Both times, she denied it.

      The second time, Nell tossed her thick head of ginger hair and laughed. “Liar.” She leaned close. “I’m always a phone call away if you want to talk about it—whatever it is.”

      Really, Ava was grateful to have a friend like Nell, who might be nosy and bossy, but who also really cared. “Thanks, Nell. You’re the best.”

      During dessert, as they chowed down on absolutely perfect pumpkin pie with heavy dollops of freshly whipped cream, Elise Bravo announced her engagement to Jed Walsh, the world-famous thriller writer, who’d returned to Justice Creek the year before after almost twenty years away. Clara and Dalton brought out champagne, and Jed got up and made a really beautiful toast to his bride-to-be, one that had them all laughing through happy tears.

      And finally, after the dessert was cleared away, most everyone lingered to visit a little longer. Dalton took Kiera off for her bath, and Sylvie and Annabelle played “Super Mario Kart” with Darius and Annabelle’s dad, Quinn. Then the two girls went back upstairs for more fun in their fort.

      At eight, when Ava went up to tell