"Fair deal." This seemed so unlike her.The lightness inside her chest sent something peaceful and wonderful throughout her entire body. She giggled. "How do I radiateanything?"
His fingers brushed against her cheek. "It's becauseyou'rereal."
Her heartbeat increased as she stared into Peter's eyes. She licked her lips and asked, "That's what drove you tomethen?"
He flinched. "What'sthat?"
This wasn'ta marriage proposal. Her pulse quickened, but she pressed ahead with the topic. "You clearly spend all your time with fake everything. It left you vulnerable and seeking someonelikeme."
A smile grew on his face though he shook his head. Then his lips came closer to hers. "There she is. The woman who is not afraid to be inmyarms."
His muscles pressed against her sent butterfliesthroughout her stomach still. She closed her eyes and smelled his woodsyscent.
"You're impossible, PeterMorgan."
His fingers brushed against her hair. "Onlywithyou."
Finally he pressed his lips to hers and kissed her. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders, and she sighed. He was perfect in some ways. Her toes curled until he ended the brief kiss. Her entire body heatedagain as he then wrapped his arms around her waist to spoonwithher.
She ran her hands down his tight arm as she said, "Good, I'm happy it's only with me. Otherwise your business would beterriblyrun."
His laugh was deep and infectious. He was the perfect Christmaspresent.
She stared out the window at the gorgeoussunrise.
"Will you come to the hospital with me andthen later home, to myhouse?"
She twirled to stare into his eyes. If he was sick, then they never should have slept together. She took his hands in hers. "Why thehospital?"
His fingers entwined with hers. "It's a tradition, and I'd like your helpthisyear."
"Tradition?" Peter spent Christmas every year in a hospital? She pressed her lips together and asked, "What are wedoingthere?"
He ran his hands up and down her back. Tingles greweverywhere.
"Ensuring the families in the hospital can all afford their medicalbills."
Now was not the time for more sex. She sat and took the sheets with her as she smiled. "See. You are agoodguy."
He sat beside her, and ran his hand through his hair. "No, I'm not. It's something I've always done,but it doesn't make me good. I get a tax rebate for the charity. What does your family do to celebratetoday?"
She squeezed his shoulders. Then she stood and stretched her arms. "Nothing now, or I wouldn't be herewithyou."
He stood as well and grabbed his pants from the floor. "What did you do for Christmas that made youhappy?"
Unashamed, she picked up the remnants of herbra and underwear off the floor. The dress hung on the chair, so she hadn't ruined the most expensive outfit she'd evertouched.
She smiled to herself. "Afterpresents?"
He left the room. She held her bra over her chest as she inched out of the second floor master bedroom. Peter crossed the living room and then picked up packages. He carried a few boxes stacked on top of each other,and she slipped into the bedroom again. She made it to the adjoining bathroom as Peter returned and dropped the bags onthebed.
"Yes, afterpresents."
Those were not presents for her. She knew better. She wrapped the robe around herself and came back. Then she rubbed her head and asked, "What'sthis?"
"Answer myquestion."
The boxes held her gaze. She sat on the bedand stared at them. "Dad would make the best hot chocolate in the world. Then we'd sit by the fireplace, and he would read me a book. Then we ate some store-bought meal he brought home that tried to recreate a traditional family meal that you see in the movies. Christmas night was always movienight."
