A Steele for Christmas by Brenda Jackson Page B

call from Dee.
    “I got a phone call before I left for lunch,” she heard herself say. “From my best friend back in Memphis.”
    When she paused too long to his way of thinking, he took a step closer. “And?”
    And I truly wish you’d put on some clothes, she started to say but clamped her mouth down from doing so. Although she would be the first to admit to enjoying the view, there was something about an almost naked man who had a body that could make a woman drool. And when it didn’t take much to recall the sexual expertise of that man, that made matters even worse.
    With the slightest pressure on her hand, he regained her attention. “Stacey?”
    He was saying her name in that ultra-sexy way of his. A tone that would tempt anyone to spill her guts about anything he wanted to know, and she felt herself yielding to that temptation. “Dee’s parents are celebrating their fortieth wedding anniversary the week after Thanksgiving. I’ve been invited.”
    She knew her explanation didn’t make any sense and he proved her right when he asked, “So you felt driven to make love to me because your best friend’s parents are celebrating an anniversary?”
    She fought back the urge to tell him she hadn’t actually been driven to make love to him. It was something she had wanted to do for some time; she just figured she never would.
    “There’s more to it than that, Eli,” she said.
    “Lord, I hope so.”
    His words, spoken in a sexy breath, nearly weakened her at the knees and she pulled her hands from his, took a step back and eased down in the winged-back chair in the room.
    “I had promised Dee I would attend the party months ago, not thinking that Wallace would probably be there.”
    “Wallace?”
    She tilted her head up to look at him. “My ex-fiancé. And of course he would be bringing Gail.”
    “Gail?”
    “Yes, the woman he dumped me for. So I guess you can say I decided to have a pity party.”
    “Because you haven’t gotten over him?”
    He had picked his shirt off the floor and was putting it back on. She watched how easily it slid over his broad shoulders and how his fingers—those fingers that had touched her practically everywhere just moments earlier—were now buttoning up his shirt.
    “Oh, I’ve gotten over him, trust me,” she finally responded. “I just don’t like being reminded of being played. Gail was my friend. At least I’d thought she was.”
    She didn’t say anything for a minute and then she chuckled. “Dee thought of a plan for me to get back at both of them, while at the same time regain a little female pride.”
    “And what plan is that?” he asked, slipping into his slacks. He had thick sinewy thighs. They were tight, muscular and she could vividly recall her legs wrapped around them while he thrust in and out of her body. She had been filled with an all-consuming need and he had taken care of it in the most delicious and mind-boggling way.
    “Stacey?”
    “Yes?”
    “What was your friend’s plan?”
    She met his gaze. “She suggested that I return to Memphis with a boyfriend, or better yet, a pretend fiancé in tow, just to prove I haven’t been pining for Wallace, and to show that no matter what they did, I dusted myself off and kept right on living.”
    There, she’d told him. He was the only person she’d shared Dee’s plan with. “Does that sound silly or what?” she asked, smiling. Sharing Dee’s idea with someone else made her realize just how ridiculous it was.
    “It doesn’t sound any sillier than an idea my best friend gave me today,” Eli said, shaking his head while sitting on the edge of the bed to put on his shoes and socks. “He thinks I should consider getting a wife for hire.”
    Stacey raised a brow. “Why would you want to do something like that?”
    “Trust me, I don’t,” he said, his words sounding like a harsh grumble in his throat. “But as crazy as it sounds, I might have to.”
    She shifted in the chair and tucked her