The woman’s comment about her being tonigh
t’s lucky pick ran through her mind. “You’re telling me you’re as pure as snow?” She gave him a skeptical look. “I’m not buying it.”
“Not sure how pure snow is these days but no one would label me as pure anyway other than my mother, who thinks I hung the moon, of course.” He winked.
Trinity rolled her eyes. “Okay, snowflake.”
Her nickname obviously caught him off guard and he stared at her a moment then shook his head, laughter shining in his eyes. “I enjoy spending time with the opposite sex and I’m no saint, but you can call me ‘Snowflake’ if you want to. But for the record, I don’t say things I don’t mean.”
“No red-blooded man ever does.”
“Suspicious little thing, aren’t you?” He grinned. “Fortunately, I’m an open book and you don’t have a quiz in the morning. So how about for the rest of the night you don’t analyze this and just enjoy yourself?”
“With you?”
He tightened his hold at her waist. “That was the idea. I’d be very disappointed if you left me to enjoy yourself with someone else.”
Despite her uncertainty, the giddy feeling was still inside her so she just shrugged as if she couldn’t care less one way or the other. “So long as you don’t suggest we sing karaoke.”
That naughty look twinkled as brightly as the colored lights adorning the Christmas tree in the corner of the ballroom. “Too bad, because my number is coming up two songs from now and I plan on you joining me.”
“You plan wrong.”
He reached into his dress pants pocket and pulled out a slip of paper. “Due to the time constraints, the Christmas committee had interested parties draw numbers earlier this evening.” He waggled his brows. “This interested party got a winning number.”
“I’d ask if you ever don’t win, but having to get up in front of all these people and sing doesn’t sound like a prize.” Grimacing, she glanced at the duo currently belting out a number. “Not a good one, at any rate.”
He laughed and touched his finger to her nose. “You’re funny, Trinity. I like that.”
“Not really.” She wasn’t funny. She hadn’t been since…since Chase had broken her heart and she’d withdrawn into her shell, trying to protect her tender inside.
Why had she done that? Why had she let him steal so much from her? Why was she still letting him steal so much of her life? For goodness’ sake, she had moved to a beach town because she’d assumed the locals wouldn’t put so much emphasis on a holiday associated with snow. Pathetic.
“Fine, I’ll sing with you, but just to warn you, I’m an even better singer than I am dancer and we both know how I excel at that.” She stepped on his toes, hard, to prove her point.
“My ears can hardly wait.” He grinned down at her. “Like I said, fun girl.”
CHAPTER THREE
TRINITY’S HEAD HURT. Not just a little. Her mouth felt as if something had crawled inside and died. Her stomach warned she might just upchuck.
She rarely ever got full-blown, miserable sick, but this morning she just felt bleh. Thank goodness she wasn’t scheduled to go into work today, just to take call. Maybe she’d get lucky and her phone wouldn’t ring.
Digging deeper beneath her covers, she groaned and snuggled up next to the warm body beside her.
Warm body? Hello. There wasn’t supposed to be a warm body in her bed!
“Good morning, sleeping beauty,” an unexpected voice broke into her haze.
An unexpected and very male voice.
A voice she immediately recognized, even though she’d only met him the night before. Why was he rambling on about sleeping beauty being a princess and her looking like one? Right. Because, like all fairy princesses, her hair and make-up remained perfect while she slept. Not.
She twisted to look at him. “Riley.”
“You were expecting someone else?” A lazy brow rose beneath sleep-tousled hair and he looked way too sexy for first thing in the morning. Apparently fairy princes really did remain perfect while sleeping.
She was in bed. Her bed. Between the covers. With Riley. Her heart pounded against her ribcage. Not good. She scooted away from his warmth until she reached a cold spot on the sheet. Too bad half her butt was now hanging off the edge of the bed.