Deadly Games - Cate Noble [41]
“Here.” He thrust a bouquet of red roses forward.
“Awww!” She accepted the flowers and smiled, then drew in a whoosh of air as Rocco swept her off her feet and into his arms.
She scrambled to hold the towel across her boobs and felt his arm brush the bare backs of her upper thighs as the towel lifted.
Two steps had him over the threshold and inside her apartment. Using his foot, Rocco shoved the door shut and leaned back against it, still holding her.
She held the roses in a death grip. “Thank you. For these.”
“Does that mean you forgive me?” He pressed another kiss to her lips. “Because if you don’t, I have another surprise.”
“Wicked man.” Gena laughed. How on earth could she stay angry? “In that case, I’m not yet certain if I forgive you. But you need to hurry the next surprise, because if I’m not out of here in ten minutes, I’ll be late for work.”
He carried her over to the couch. Once again she had to clutch at her towel. As he sat, settling her in his lap, the arm beneath her legs brushed higher still. Teasing. Taunting. When he moved it seconds later, she missed its heat pressed against her.
“About work,” he said. “That’s my surprise. It’s a snow day. You can’t possibly go in.”
“A snow day?” It was supposed to hit the mid-nineties today, but Gena played along. “And if I don’t go to work today, what will I do?”
He picked up her fingers and entwined them with his. “You’ll go away for a fabulous weekend with the man of your dreams.”
Gena bolted straight up, feigning panic. “Prince Charming is coming? Here? When? Let me up, I need to get dressed!”
He dipped her backward so suddenly she squealed. The roses fell as she grabbed for his neck.
“Easy, I’ve got you.”
“My roses!” Her bouquet had landed near his feet.
Rocco picked them up and set them aside. His gaze was intense now and she felt her pulse hammer. The towel she wore suddenly felt restrictive, too tight.
“God, I missed you, Gena. Say yes.” He kissed her again before she could reply.
All playfulness disappeared. His mouth was demanding, enticing.
The raging desire she’d woken up with returned. How could she deny this man anything? Yes. Yes. Yes. The words echoed with each heartbeat.
This time when he started to pull back, she tightened her embrace, hungry for more. Holding him in place, she deepened the kiss, nervous to be taking the initiative.
His hand curved along her rib cage, drifting up until his knuckles rubbed the curve of her breast through the towel.
“Yes,” she encouraged. She was ready to take this to a new level. To know where this path of heat and fire led. There would be no more waiting, no more wondering. No more pulling back.
When they finally broke apart, his breathing was as labored as hers. But he pushed her away.
“You need to get packed,” he said. “We’ve got a plane to catch.”
Rocco offered to call Gena’s boss and pull strings for a day off. Gena refused and made the call herself—taking a personal day. Nice girls didn’t lie, but by the same token, they didn’t have to blab everything they knew.
It drove her crazy that Rocco wouldn’t tell her anything about where they were going.
“It’s a surprise.”
“Then how do I pack?” she asked.
“Think snow day. Nothing dressy. And bring your passport.”
Passports meant leaving the country. Snow meant cold. The Canadian Rockies, she guessed, seeing as they only had a three-day weekend.
Though pulling out sweaters and boots in July seemed absurd, Gena tossed everything she could in a suitcase, barely making the fifteen-minute deadline Rocco had given her.
They took a cab to Reagan airport but bypassed the main terminal. “A friend is flying a small group,” Rocco said.
“A small group” actually turned out to be about fifty passengers. Gena grew suspicious as she took in the others’ apparel. Straw hats. Island-print shirts.
“Snow?” she whispered as she buckled her seat belt.
“Snow day,” Rocco corrected. “Don’t you remember as a kid what a blast it was to wake up and find school