Page 15 of Baby It's Cold Outside

“No. I was thinking more about collecting something from my car. But if my going outside in just a towel would upset your neighbors…”

“Just tell me what you want and I’ll fetch it,” she said hastily.

“The Santa suit’s in the back of my car.”

She sat down on the bed in relief. “So you’re telling me I’m going to have dinner with Santa? A man in a red hoodie?”

He laughed. “Looks like it. But I already have a pocket full of carrots for Rudolph, so you don’t have to cater to him tonight.” He gave her his car keys.

She rummaged in her wardrobe and took out a couple of hangers. “I don’t think your suit would survive the tumble-dryer—it’s probably best if you hang it up in the bathroom to dry—but I can sort out the rest of your clothes while we have dinner.”

“Thank you. And I’ll, um, borrow a towel, if I may, until you can get that suit for me.”

Now that they’d sorted it out, she was quite happy for him to stay stark naked until then. He was seriously beautiful, and if she were an artist she’d want to sculpt him. As it was, she could think of several interesting things to do with sweet buttercream frosting and sprinkles.

Aware that lust was flickering down her spine again, she scooped up their wet clothes and left the room before she did something really stupid. Once the washing machine was going, she went out to his car and discovered that it was snowing harder again. The roads still hadn’t been cleared. She retrieved the Santa outfit, and shook the snow from her hair as she closed the front door behind her.

Mitch was just walking down the stairs. “It’s still snowing?”

“Yes. So it looks as if you’re going to be having Christmas dinner here tomorrow.” She handed over the Santa suit. “I take it you’re not going to wear the beard this time?”

“C.J. wouldn’t be too happy if I got the beard covered in food.” He gave her a wry smile. “I’ll need to get this suit dry-cleaned before I hand it back—or maybe this suit’s mine from now on.”

“I’m not sure if I feel more guilty that you’re going to be totally naked under that, or…”

“Turned on?” he asked softly.

She licked her lower lip. “It’s certainly turning out to be a Christmas to remember—and nothing like what I was expecting.”

“Me, neither,” he admitted.

And then he dropped the towel.

She blew out a breath. “Carry on like that, and you’re not getting a

ny dinner.”

He put on the Santa suit. “You do realize you’re standing below a mistletoe ball?” Then he gave her a truly mischievous grin and broke into song. “’Tis the season to kiss Santa, fa-la-la-la-la, la-la, la-la.”

How could she resist? She stepped forward into his arms.

By the time he broke the kiss, she was shaking. “Kitchen. Now.”

“Mmm. Sounds interesting. What did you have in mind?”

Oh, the pictures that put in her head. She felt the color rush into her cheeks. “Behave. Bad boys don’t get a present from Santa.”

“Speaking as Santa, I should inform you that I can be just as bad as I like.” He stole another kiss, then relented. “Come on, Chief Elf, let’s go and make dinner.”

Ellie had to think about what was actually in the cupboards. “Do you like pasta?”

“Love it.”

She glanced at the clock as they went through to the kitchen. “We’re, what, five hours behind London?” At his nod, she sighed. “It’s too late to text the picture of the snow angel to my brother, then.”

“It’s not that late.”

“It’s Christmas Eve. And my niece and nephew will be awake at four o’clock tomorrow morning, opening their stockings very noisily, so he and my sister-in-law are going to need every minute of sleep they can get.”

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