Merry Christmas, Cowboy Read online

Page 9

“I do. Where did you get it?”

  “Doesn’t matter. No one’s going to notice what I have on. Not with you on my arm.”

  “I don’t know about that. Let me get my coat.” Paula went to the closet by the apartment door and picked out a dark coat instead of her everyday one. It would have to do.

  Zach took it from her and draped it over her shoulders. “You don’t have to put this on all the way. I’m right out front.”

  “Great. That’s easier.”

  Long black velvet evening gloves were next to a black beaded purse resting on the table. Her makeup, a comb and hairpins, and her credit cards and ID were already in it. Carefully, she drew on the long gloves, smoothing the soft velvet over her hands and clasping them demurely.

  Zach drank in the sight and nodded with very male approval. “Covering up could be better than getting undressed.”

  “Mind your manners, sir,” she said with mock disapproval as she picked up the small purse. But she knew exactly what he meant. Then he stepped to the door, back in his gentlemanly mode.

  “Allow me.” He opened the door with a flourish and a bow, straightening just as she swept by him. Paula turned to lock it and walked down the hall, enjoying the unfamiliar click of her high heels on the floor.

  They were still inside the building’s front foyer when she stopped to look out through the glass. There was a limousine at the curb. A uniformed driver spotted Zach behind her and sprang to attention, opening the back door and standing ramrod straight by it.

  “Is that—” She turned to him, her eyes wide.

  Zach grinned. “It’s ours for the night. Couldn’t get a horse and carriage. Sorry about that.”

  She stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. “You’re wonderful.”

  “I try.” He moved to the outer door to open it for her.

  The coat over her shoulders wasn’t enough to ward off the intense cold. Zach took her arm, guiding her down the short flight of stairs to the limo.

  Paula got in, not all that gracefully, unused to maneuvering in a long, full dress. “Last time I did this was my prom.” She sat back and scooted over, making room for Zach by gathering up the folds of material.

  He sat back and stretched out his long legs. “Same here. This is great. Kind of makes me wonder why I don’t do things like this more often.” He looked over at her. “I can answer that. Because I never had someone like you to do it for.”

  “Aww.” Paula didn’t mind the outrageous sweet talk. It went with his costume.

  The driver closed the door and went around to his side. A sliding window separated the front seat from the capacious banquette in back.

  “Ready to roll?” the man asked, glancing back at them.

  “Yes, thanks,” Zach replied.

  The driver slid the window closed and moved the limo away from the curb.

  Paula looked out at the uncrowded streets. The tinted windows of the limo gave the city a faintly unreal look. Holiday lights strung on lampposts and handsome old buildings added to the effect.

  She turned to Zach when he moved closer and slid his arm over the back of the seat.

  “This is magical,” she whispered.

  “Glad you like it.” He pressed a chaste kiss to her temple. “I still can’t get over how gorgeous you look. It’s going to be hard to restrain myself until we get to the Miner.”

  She nestled closer. “I don’t want to walk in looking all rumpled.”

  “People might talk,” he murmured.

  They drove on. Paula was blissfully happy right where she was, but she looked up at Zach. “Let them,” she whispered.

  He bent his head to hers.

  The driver had to circle when they reached the landmark hotel. There was no space long enough for the limo, and double-parked vehicles blocked the curb. Women in long, Victorian-style gowns and evening coats were going up the wide exterior stairs on the arms of their escorts. Some of the men were dressed like Zach, but none were as dashing.

  “Just drop us up there,” Zach advised the driver, then turned to Paula. “It’s a little bit of a walk. Is that okay with you?”

  “Yes,” she replied. “I don’t want to make a grand entrance, thank you very much.”

  The driver pulled over some distance ahead. “I’ll call you when we’re ready to leave,” Zach told him.

  “Yes, sir. That will be fine.” The man got out and went around the limo.

  “You rented this for the whole night?” Paula asked.

  “Of course. I had no intention of driving you in the pickup. Which is fixed, by the way. So how late can you stay out, Cinderella?”

  He bent his legs and moved toward the door. Paula followed his lead, gathering up the folds of her dress to keep from getting tangled. “I have to work tomorrow.”

  A frown of disappointment crossed his face but only for a second. “Oh.”

  “Don’t look at me like that. I had to sign up for extra hours to make up for missing a late Saturday shift.”

  “Can’t be helped,” he said, his voice almost curt. “If we have one night, let’s make the most of it.”

  He swung himself out and up when the driver opened the door. “If you can find a spot outside around ten, we’ll probably be leaving then,” Zach said to him.

  Paula got out with his assistance, looking down the street at the stream of arriving guests. She let Zach drape her coat over her shoulders again, shivering a little in the icy night air.

  He looked down at her with a twinkle in his eye. “Better fix your lipstick.”

  Paula looked in her purse for her compact mirror and saw to that before they headed for the hotel.

  Once inside, she let him check her coat. Paula stood in the restored lobby, looking around at the gilt-encrusted splendor of it all. The flocked red wallpaper gave the space warmth.

  Just beyond immense old doors garlanded with Christmas greenery was the ballroom. There had to be a hundred or more guests inside. Several men cast curious glances her way, taking her in from head to toe just as Zach had.

  He rejoined her, slipping the claim ticket into the watch pocket of his gray vest. “You are the belle of the ball.”

  Paula shook her head. “I doubt that.” But she slipped her gloved hand through his arm and faked a confident air.

  They went into the ballroom, hearing murmurs of admiration on both sides. Zach was an imposing presence, even though he was one of the few younger men there.

  “That outfit gets attention. The women are staring,” she whispered out of the side of her mouth.

  “I only have eyes for you,” he replied in a low voice.

  “Good,” she said. “Is there anyone here we know?”

  “There’s Brandon.”

  The boy was weaving through the crush of people to get to them. “Hi, Zach. Hi, Paula. You look really pretty.”

  The respectful compliment touched her. “Thanks.”

  Brandon wore a dark suit that was a little too large for his slight frame. But his black hair was carefully combed, and Paula suspected he’d shaved off the peach fuzz. His face looked perfectly smooth.

  “You clean up good, kid,” Zach teased him.

  Brandon pulled a face and jammed his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “My grandma dragged this out of the back of the closet. It’s too big.”

  Now that he mentioned it, Paula noticed the hasty alterations to shorten the sleeves. “You wear it well,” she told him.

  The boy shrugged. “Gram said it used to belong to my dad. She keeps too much stuff.”

  “So did you bring a date?” Zach asked, breaking the moment of awkward silence.

  “Nope. There’s no one here my age either.”

  “Maybe later,” Paula said encouragingly.

  Brandon looked toward the dais, where a band of country musicians in old-timey attire were tuning their instruments and connecting amps. “I’m gonna go watch them set up, okay?”

  “You bet. See you around.” Zach looked back at Paula after Brand
on walked away, a rueful expression on his face. “I wouldn’t be fifteen again for a million bucks.”

  “I know what you mean. Sitting out dances, thinking no one likes you. I don’t know how I survived it.”

  “Well, my momma taught me to two-step and waltz. That’s about all the dancing I do. I’m hoping those guys play one or the other.”

  Paula stepped lightly away on his arm. “Personally, I would call myself a survivor of the classes at Mrs. Neugebauer’s Academy. But not a dancer. Go slow. Be gentle with me.”

  He patted her gloved wrist. “Certainly, my dear.”

  They mingled for a while, since there was no music yet. Paula turned at the sound of a cheerful voice she knew well.

  “Yoo-hoo! Paula!” A plume of feathers was coming their way.

  Edith wriggled through the crowd, dolled up in a saloon madam’s lavish gown. She held up her billowing skirts, apologizing to the amused guests for her bustle, which seemed to have a life of its own.

  “Oh, my! Don’t you two look nice,” she said breathlessly. “Can you believe I’m wearing a corset? If I eat so much as a cracker, I might just swoon.”

  “I believe that was the idea back in the day,” Paula laughed.

  Edith unfolded the fan she wore dangling from her cinched waist and fanned herself vigorously. The feathers in her piled-up hair bobbed. “Oh. Then I’ll eat a whole pack. And if you see any gallant men who look like millionaires, send ’em to me.”

  She stopped fanning to inspect every detail of Zach’s attire, brushing a bit of imaginary lint from his black sleeve.

  “I declare, you are a good-lookin’ man,” she said. “Quite possibly the handsomest man in Denver. I’m going to tell all the other ladies that you are taken. You’re dancing with Paula and that’s that.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Zach replied with enthusiasm.

  Edith spotted someone else she knew and began to move on, then turned her head. “But save one for me,” she said to him.

  As more guests entered the ballroom, the press of people grew.

  “Want to get some air?” Zach asked.

  Paula nodded.

  With his arm around her bare shoulders, he guided and protected her simultaneously. They reached the side of the ballroom, where he pulled out a chair and took two flutes of champagne from a passing waiter holding a tray.

  “So what is the plan for tonight?” he asked Paula.

  “It’s not meant to be all that formal, really. It’s a meet and greet. Some speeches, some music.”

  Zach sipped his champagne. “I vote for more of the latter and less of the former.”

  An amiable-looking older man went up the steps to the dais and took the microphone. He launched into a rambling introduction of the ball’s sponsors, looking through reading glasses at the paper in his hand.

  By silent mutual agreement, Paula and Zach finished their champagne and sneaked out a side door.

  “Too much hot air for me,” she said with a smile. Paula took off her gloves and carried them as they walked down a long hall lined with sepia photographs of the hotel and its famous guests.

  They stopped to look at a long-ago dignitary sporting enormous muttonchops and a handlebar mustache.

  “Now that’s what I call whiskers,” Zach said, impressed.

  “Don’t you dare grow anything like that on your face,” Paula teased.

  “Okay. That leaves the top of my head. I could get his look with a can of pomade and a curry brush.”

  She reached up and lightly ruffled his hair. “I like you the way you are.”

  Her hand drifted down to caress his cheek. Zach’s gaze turned suddenly tender. “Do you?”

  She brushed a fingertip over his mouth. “Yes.”

  “Let’s find someplace a little more private, Miss Lewis.”

  “This is a hotel.”

  He smiled down at her. “They don’t rent rooms. What’s on your mind?” he murmured.

  Paula lifted her head, feeling utterly womanly and flirtatious. “Can’t you guess?”

  He pulled her into an alcove draped with curtains where no one who happened to pass by would see them, though they were alone. Then he took full advantage of her willingness. His arms encircled her as he began to kiss her, gently at first, then with passion.

  She closed her eyes, yielding to him. The gloves she was holding dropped to the carpet without her knowing it. Zach’s mouth claimed hers with a strength that barely concealed his need.

  He tasted her lips, teasing them open with his tongue, moving his hands around her waist, caressing her into breathless acquiescence before his hold turned to iron and kept her firmly in place. Motionless, every tiny sensation she felt was that much more intense. She couldn’t have stepped back if she’d wanted to—and she didn’t want to.

  Zach’s eyes held a dark blue fire in their depths when he lifted his head. She licked her parted lips. He made a husky sound in his throat as he watched her. But he didn’t kiss her again.

  He turned his attention to her neck, pushing aside the jet drops in her ears, kissing, nipping but not hard enough to mark her skin. She wanted to cry out with pleasure but didn’t. Zach let her go for a moment. It didn’t matter. He might as well have bound her with silken rope. His hands caressed her shoulders, moving over the elaborate necklace, touching the jet pendant that dangled from it

  With sure hands, he reached around to unclasp it. Zach slipped the necklace into his pocket.

  Paula felt a chill but not because she was cold. It was the sensation of being bared to him that made her shiver. She sighed deeply and he held her by the waist again, lifting her and holding her against the wall with ease. His kisses moved from her neck to her collarbone, and lower still, to the swelling softness of her hidden breasts.

  Paula sank her hands into his thick hair. She was literally in midair, being made love to fully clothed, with as much passion as if she’d been naked in his bed.

  He let her down inch by inch. Zach’s breath came raggedly. His eyes were shadowed with lust. There was no other word for it.

  “How in the hell are we going to go back into that ballroom and pretend this never happened?” he growled.

  Paula forced herself to answer. She tried to make light of it. “The same way we got out,” she said. “Through the door.”

  Chapter 9

  He pulled the heavy curtain back. They looked both ways before they stepped out of the alcove.

  The band struck up a lively reel with fiddles, banjos, and a plunking bass as Paula and Zach went back down the hall. She had smoothed her dress. He had fixed his tie. They looked straight ahead. But they were hand in hand.

  “That was interesting,” he said.

  She couldn’t tell if he was joking or not. He couldn’t be. He’d kissed her like his life depended on it. But maybe he was the kind of guy who always kissed that way. She still didn’t know who that girl in the photo was.

  Zach squeezed her hand when she didn’t reply. “Maybe insane would be a better word. Or incredible. I liked it. A lot.”

  “So did I.” Her response was more hesitant.

  “Couldn’t stop. Didn’t want to. You just look so damn tempting in that old-fashioned dress, Paula.”

  She was silent.

  “Perfect lady. Brazen hussy. Everything I ever wanted in a woman.”

  Paula could sense when he was looking at her. She avoided his gaze.

  “We should time-travel more often,” he added.

  “I think we should get back to reality.”

  Now that it was over, the spectacular kiss seemed more like a moment of madness. It needed thinking about. But she squelched the analytical little voice in her head that demanded a comparative study and a list of possible consequences.

  The hubbub from the crowd of guests echoed in the corridor. “Hold up,” she said, stopping. “Do I look all right? Not too . . . kissed?”

  “If you don’t want people to talk, don’t disappear for too long,” Zach advised her
. “How about we go back in for just a bit and then leave for good, go to your place and finish what we started.”

  “Not so fast. We need to talk first.”

  “Why?”

  She wasn’t totally swept away. “You’re not spending the night, Zach.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  Her gallant gentleman had been replaced by a cocky cowboy. “No. I’m not kidding. I’m not ready for that.”

  “My mistake.” He gave her that slow smile.

  Paula almost relented. Then she pictured the pretty girl in the snow and stiffened her spine. “Excuse me. You don’t seem to be listening.”

  “Are you mad at me?”

  “I’m getting there. Shut up, okay? It won’t kill you.” Paula had just realized she was missing something. “My gloves—shoot. I dropped them in the alcove.”

  “We can get them later. I’m not going back in the ballroom solo,” he said. “Please don’t storm out. I’m sorry for whatever it is you think I didn’t do or should be doing right now, even though you won’t tell me what that is.”

  “Look, there’s Edith,” she said, not wanting to pursue the conversation.

  “And she’s made a friend.” Zach motioned toward the ballroom.

  The crowd had opened up to make a circle for dancing. Feathers bobbing, Edith was kicking up her heels with an elderly gentleman who didn’t miss a beat.

  “Brandon must be dying of embarrassment,” Paula said.

  “Maybe not. I don’t see him anywhere.”

  The reel speeded up and more dancers joined in, providing enough of a distraction to embolden her. The conversation would stay within bounds if they were with other people.

  “Now’s our chance. No one’s looking. Let’s go in,” she said.

  They moved to the nearest table with two chairs. Another waiter walked by with filled flutes of champagne. Zach handed one to Paula and took another for himself. They clinked their glasses like casual acquaintances, as if they hadn’t just been lost in each other’s arms and fought about it like fools afterward.

  The wild reel got wilder.

  Finally it ended and the dancers stumbled to a panting halt, laughing as the musicians caught their breath. The master fiddler held his violin and bow in one hand as he stood in front of the microphone.

 

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