"What if I say I'm sorry?" he added eventually.
"What if I tell you I don't care?" I snapped back, kicking myself mentally for actually breaking my vow of silence, but unable to hold back the words regardless.
"I wouldn't believe it. "
I turned around, eyeing the darkness that held him so completely. "Last Christmas, I cared. This Christmas, I just want to catch our murderer so I can get out of this stupid costume and the snow that is freezing bits of me off, and go enjoy being with my sister and her kids. "
I swung away, presenting my back to him again. Which really wasn't a good thing, because I could still feel his gaze on me. Could feel the heat of it travel up my cold length, warming the ice from my bones and making my pulse skip and dance.
Where the hell was a murdering Christmas fiend when you really wanted one?
"It's nearly midnight," Brodie said. "Given that our murderer hasn't shown an inclination to attack and drain anyone after the magic hour, what do you say to us going to find a cafe and some coffee?"
"I'd prefer to go straight back to my apartment. " Spending more time than necessary in this man's company was not a good idea. I might not want to talk to him, but there were bits of me that would have been happy to do a whole lot more.
"Come on, Hannah," he said softly, in that sweet, oh-so-sexy tone that could charm the pants off a virgin. At least, it had charmed the pants of this former virgin. "Tomorrow's Christmas Eve. How about showing a little Christmas spirit?"
"Would this be the same Christmas spirit you showed when you dumped me without a by-your-leave?" I said, ever so nicely.
"Ouch," he muttered. Then added, "Did I mention I was sorry for that?"
"I still don't care. "
"Did I mention I realize I was an ass, but things got so crazy so quickly - "
"I'm still not caring," I interrupted, feeling like a broken record.
Another stranger appeared at the top end of the street. I rang the bell and he looked up briefly, his face ghostly in the darkness. He shook his head and huddled deeper into his coat, before crossing the road and walking down the other side of the footpath. Great, now prospective donors were avoiding me.
That said a whole lot about my appearance. Or my mood.
I took a deep breath and tried to look happy about the whole situation.
I don't think I succeeded.
"Look," Brodie tried again. "I'm a rat, I know, and I don't really have a good excuse for doing what I did. It was thoughtless and inconsiderate and I'd really like the chance to make it up to you. "
No, I told my hormones, which were suddenly dancing at the thought of some hot Brodie action. Remember Christmas past? He's bad for us. We don't like him.
Unfortunately, what came out of my mouth was, "Why?"
"Because it's Christmas, and because I've missed you horribly. "
Of all the damn things to say, I thought, as my treacherous heart did a little sideways lurch. It was just as well parts of me were still holding on to anger, otherwise I'd be putty in his hands. And oh, wouldn't his hands feel so good.
"Yeah, you missed me so horribly," I replied, irritated at myself, "that you couldn't pick up a phone and talk to me. "
"I did," he said mildly. "You hung up on me. Several times. "
Oh. Yeah. "That was when I was in my hurt and angry stage. You should have tried once I'd rolled into my not caring stage. You might have had more luck. "
"You've been saying you don't care for the last ten minutes, and I'm still having no luck. "
&
nbsp; "That's because I've now rolled into the no-longer-caring-but-aiming-to-make-you-grovel stage. It's just not your night, I'm afraid. "
"Ah," he said, the deepening amusement in his rich tones making my toes curl ever so slightly. "And if I do grovel? Will that get you sharing a cup of coffee with me?"