The Heart of Christmas. Brenda Novak

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      There were still things she couldn’t recall, however, and his name was one of them. Had he ever told her what it was?

      “Who are you?” she asked.

      Without even a stretch or a concluding peck on the cheek, he climbed out of bed and started to dress.

      At least she wouldn’t have to ask him to leave, she told herself. It looked as if he planned on walking into the sunset—or sunrise since it was early—as soon as possible. But this wasn’t New York or Los Angeles. He couldn’t just hail a taxi. She lived in the Sierra Nevada foothills of Northern California in one of the many mining towns along Highway 49 that had sprung up when gold was discovered a century and a half ago. It was a community that hadn’t changed as much as one might expect in such a modern, technologically advanced world. And if the lack of urban conveniences in Whiskey Creek wasn’t enough of an obstacle, she lived several miles outside town. There was very little traffic out here and no buses or other public transit.

      He’d have a long hike if he intended to make his way back to Whiskey Creek without catching a ride from her.

      Or maybe he planned to call someone. He had a cell phone and, for the most part, there was service.

      “You won’t answer?” she asked.

      “What difference does my name make?” he finally responded.

      That set off alarm bells, since one of the other things she couldn’t recall was whether they’d used any birth control. He wasn’t one of those weirdoes who went around purposely infecting people with HIV, was he?

      “You don’t want me to know who you are?”

      Having donned his boxers, he jammed one leg and then the other into a pair of well-worn jeans. “I don’t see any purpose in exchanging personal information.”

      So he’d already decided he wasn’t going to see her again. She hadn’t been entirely sure she wanted to see him. He hadn’t been that friendly so far, but she felt a measure of disappointment all the same. She had enjoyed what she could remember of last night—and what she remembered more than anything else was the way he kissed. It was so good, so completely bone-melting, that she grew warm just thinking about it. A man who really knew how to kiss a woman seemed like a nice place to start a love affair.

      “What if I need to reach you?” she asked. To tell him he’d given her herpes, for instance.

      He lowered his voice. “I’m sorry, but last night...I shouldn’t have let it go the way it did. I knew better and...I wasn’t going to, but...God, you can dance.”

      “So you do have one nice thing to say....”

      “I told you not to take what we were doing seriously, but...I’m sure that’s all forgotten. So I’ll say it again. I’m not interested in a relationship.”

      He couldn’t even take her to dinner before calling it quits?

      Obviously her luck with men wasn’t improving—even when she opened herself up to a random encounter.

      “Why?” she asked. “Are you married?” At this point, his rejection was so unequivocal she almost hoped he was. Then she wouldn’t have to credit it to some failing on her part.

      “No.” He didn’t even look over when he responded.

      “You have a girlfriend, then?” Jared. She was almost certain he’d said his name was Jared....

      “No. I might be a lot of things, but I’ve never been a cheater.”

      Great. She must’ve acted like a desperate idiot last night. Or maybe she wasn’t nearly as good at kissing—or other activities—as she was at dancing.

      “Was it something I did?” Normally, she wouldn’t have asked. It was difficult to lower her pride. But if he was going to brush her off anyway, what could it hurt to learn the reason? Maybe that information would help her know why she couldn’t seem to find Mr. Right.

      “No.”

      That was it? That was all the feedback he was willing to give her? “You’re far too generous. Thanks for the reassurance.”

      He glanced up at her sarcasm. “At least I meant what I said. It’s not you. It has nothing to do with you.”

      But he still wasn’t interested. Why? “Just tell me we used some protection, Jared,” she said. “Then you can take off.”

      “Of course we used protection.” He scowled, but she couldn’t tell if that was in reaction to her remembering his name or the nature of her question. “I wouldn’t leave either of us vulnerable to what could happen without it.”

      She clutched the sheet tighter. “How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

      “Condom wrapper’s on the floor. I’ll leave it for you to throw away, if that makes you feel any more secure. And just to reassure you, I’m clean.”

      Seeing the wrapper he’d mentioned peeking out from under her nightstand, she breathed a sigh of relief. “Not that you seem worried but...just in case, so am I.”

      “What?” He was searching for the rest of his clothes.

      “Clean. Well, to be totally honest I’ve never been tested. I wouldn’t even know where to go to get tested. But I’ve only been with three other guys, and one of them was clear back in high school, when we were both virgins.”

      He got down to peer under the bed and came up with a missing sock. “Going by what you told me last night, they were all from around here.”

      “What difference does that make?”

      “This place doesn’t strike me as a hotbed for venereal disease.”

      She watched as he sat down and pulled on his hiking-style boots. He stood without lacing them. “Don’t tell me I gave you my whole sexual history,” she said.

      “Why? You don’t have much of one. It didn’t take long.”

      “Sounds as if I was a bit of a blabbermouth.” That wasn’t appealing. She probably wasn’t experienced enough for him.

      “You were trying to explain why you were so hungry for a man.”

      There was no judgment or accusation in his tone. It sounded as though he was merely trying to jog her memory. But she didn’t want to be perceived as sexually aggressive. Most people didn’t consider that a positive trait, especially when it was associated with a woman. “I’m sorry if I was too...uninhibited or—or overeager.”

      “You were honest about your needs, which is why I thought I could fulfill them. Our exchange was simple. Straightforward. Nothing wrong with that.”

      “I’m glad you’re satisfied.”

      He reached for his shirt. “You’re not?”

      She knew he was referring to the many orgasms he’d given her and СКАЧАТЬ