Merry Christmas, Baby(25)
Author: Vicki Lewis Thompson

Clearly the ones she’d seen hadn’t.

Furthermore, if everything else his mother had told her was true, then she was half in love with him already.

He grinned at her and wore an expression that brought her sanity into question.

Delphie slunk lower into the water, hoping that the bubbly surface would cover her bare body. She hadn’t shaved her legs this morning, she thought dimly. As if it would matter. Sheesh. She was losing her mind. Her face was already flushed from the heat of the water and the two glasses of wine she’d consumed, but impossibly, embarrassment made her cheeks burn even hotter, making her acutely aware of her vulnerable state.

Silas rubbed his hand over the back of his neck. “Er…who are you?” he asked.

Well, yes, he’d want to know that, wouldn’t he? Aside from being half-drunk and completely nak*d, what the hell was wrong with her? She dredged her soul for an ounce of dignity and lifted her chin.

“I’m Delphie Moreau, your parents’ neighbor from across the street.”

A flash of recognition lit his dark gaze and he inclined his head. “Mom’s mentioned you. You’re the decorator, right?”

“Interior designer,” she clarified. Her skill set was a little more advanced. She didn’t just pick out accessories, fabrics and paint swatches. She designed beautiful living spaces based on functionality and a client’s needs. She was licensed, knew building code and specs and was handier with a tape measure than a lot of construction workers she knew.

His gaze drifted over her bare shoulders. “Use the hot tub a lot, do you?”

Despite the heat, she felt goose bumps skitter over her skin and her n**ples pearl. “Only when I’m keeping an eye on things for them.” A thought suddenly struck her foggy mind and she gasped. “You’re not home for Christmas, are you?”

Another smile. Mercy. “I am, actually.”

Oh, no, Delphie thought, wincing. Charlie and Helen were going to be so disappointed. Her gaze slid hesitantly to Silas. Eek! How to tell him?

He waited a beat, then blew out a breath and his eyes widened significantly. “But evidently my parents are not.”

She bit her bottom lip and shook her head regretfully. “They left two days ago on a cruise to the Bahamas. With your sister in Europe and you in Iraq they didn’t want to face the holiday here alone. They couldn’t have possibly known you were coming, otherwise they—”

He shook his head, a silent indicator that she didn’t have to finish. “I had the grand idea of surprising them,” he admitted with a rueful grimace. “Definitely poor planning on my part. I just never expected them to be gone.”

“I’m sorry,” she told him. She knew from Helen that Silas hadn’t been home for the past couple of years. She couldn’t even begin to imagine his disappointment—or theirs, for that matter, when they found out that they’d missed him. They’d be crushed.

“Maybe you could call them,” Delphie suggested, grasping at any idea to avoid this outcome. “If there’s a way for them to come home, then I know they would.”

He pulled a doubtful face. “If they’ve been gone two days, then they’re in open sea,” he said. “It would just make them miserable, knowing that I’m here and that they’re unable to get to me.”

He was right, she knew. Still…

His gaze swept the scene again, lingering on her clothes on the floor, the open wine bottle on the table next to the hot tub and the empty glass. “Sorry for interrupting your party,” he said, a smile tugging at his especially sexy mouth. “A special occasion?”

“Not particularly,” she said, once again aware of the fact that she was completely nak*d with a stranger in the room.

Actually, were she to label it, she’d have to say it was a pity party. Her younger stepsister, Lena, was getting married on Christmas Eve. Delphie was happy for her, of course. What kind of person would she be if she weren’t? What kind of person begrudges another person happiness?

Unfortunately, while Delphie was genuinely pleased that Lena had found the man of her dreams—when she hadn’t even been looking—she couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for herself.

Because she had been looking. Actively, for over a year now. She’d found Mr. Maybe, Mr. Wrong, Mr. Right Now, Mr. Asshole and Mr. Possibly-Homosexual-In-Denial, but she’d yet to find her own better half. How unfair was that? Lena was still in college, hadn’t figured out exactly what her mark was going to be, much less made it. Hell, she’d met Theo at a drive-thru, for pity’s sake. Theo had gotten her French fries and she’d gotten his onion rings. They’d swapped accordingly and fallen in love.

Fried romance.

Delphie, on the other hand, had been out of college for four years, her business was in full swing, quite lucrative and fulfilling. Now she just wanted someone to share her life with. Was that too much to ask?

Thankfully her mother knew that Lena’s impending wedding and all the festivities surrounding it were making Delphie even more aware of her own single status and unhappiness, and had limited what she’d asked Delphie to do.

She imagined she’d feel a lot less pathetic if she at least had a date for the wedding, but sadly that wasn’t the case, either. Guys tended to get a little squirrelly when a girl invited them to a wedding. You either needed to know someone really well or not at all, otherwise it was a hard sell.

“So are you staying here then?” he asked, derailing her miserable line of thought.

“Er…no. I’m picking up the mail, taking care of the cat and generally keeping an eye on the place.” She grinned. “Your parents offered the hot tub and the beach as recompense and I happily accepted.” She inwardly frowned.

Of course, now that he was here he could do it.

And she’d lose the flimsy excuse of semi-house-sitting to avoid the wedding festivities.

Not good.

No guy of her own, no date for the wedding and no excuse to stay away from the premarital hoopla.

And she was still nak*d in front of a perfect stranger.

She knew better than to ask if things could get worse, but couldn’t keep from wondering all the same. It seemed to be that kind of day.

And it was that exact moment that she realized she’d forgotten something really important—something critical, even. She felt her face crumple into a wince.

A towel.

2

THOUGH THIS WAS NOT exactly the welcome home he’d imagined, he could do a lot worse than finding a beautiful nak*d woman in a hot tub, Silas thought. In fact, as far as homecomings went, this was a pretty damned good one.

Delphie Moreau had the most expressive face he’d ever seen.

It intrigued him.

For instance, over the past few seconds he could tell that she’d gone from being mildly worried to unquestionably miserable. Though he wasn’t at all certain that he could help her in any way, he was suddenly hit with the irresistible urge to try.

A novelty, to be sure.

Seeing that unhappy expression on such a lovely face made something shift uncomfortably in his chest. Nonplussed, he shrugged the sensation off and tried to remember everything his mother had ever said about her. Honestly, he’d only half-listened when his mom had started in about Delphie. It was quite obvious that she’d had matchmaking on her mind, and Silas had assumed anyone that his mother chose for him wouldn’t meet his approval.

He was cursing that wrong-headed conclusion at the moment, though, because given the way his blood had instantly heated and the rapidity with which it was pooling in his groin, Delphie was definitely an exception to that rule.

She was, quite literally, a wet dream.

She had a sweet, heart-shaped face with a sharp little chin, big blue eyes that were large and heavily lashed and a mouth that put him in mind of hot, frantic sex. What little he could see of her petite body was lush and creamy and decidedly feminine. With those shiny black curls piled atop her head and the smooth porcelain of her skin, she reminded him of one of the pretty dolls his mother kept in her curio cabinet.

Her ripe lips formed a hesitant smile. “Could I ask a favor?”

He nodded once, ready to retrieve the moon if she asked for it. “Certainly.”

Impossibly, her cheeks pinkened further and she shrunk deeper into the water. Her voice, when she spoke, was small. “Would you mind getting me a towel?”

Silas felt a grin creep over his lips. “No problem.”

He backtracked into the house, snagged the requested item out of the linen closet and then returned to the porch and handed it to her. He kept his eyes firmly on her face to keep from trying to sneak a peek at her bare br**sts and congratulated himself on his success.

It was a hollow victory.

“Thank you,” she murmured. She waited expectantly.

With a belated start, he gestured awkwardly toward the kitchen. “I’ll, uh… I’ll just go inside then.” Smooth, Silas.

She dimpled gratefully. “I’d appreciate it.”

Keenly aware of her every move—he heard the hot tub go off, the tell-tale splash as she left the water— Silas suddenly found himself quite thirsty. He sent a fervent thank-you in his father’s direction when he found a lone beer in the refrigerator and made a mental note to buy more.