by BETH KERY
How could she have given so much trust to such an unworthy man?
Angeline needn’t have turned on the faucet to muffle her tears of hurt and shame at her own stupidity. When she’d exited the bathroom a while later, she was alone in the house. She’d grabbed her bag and made a beeline for the back door, determined to free her SUV from the snow and ice now that she had plenty of bright sunshine to see what she was doing.
She’d paused at the back door, another wave of hurt going through her when she saw her SUV parked in the driveway.
Obviously Alex had wanted to hasten her departure.
Even though the sun shone gloriously after the snowstorm, Angeline saw everything in gray as she tossed her duffel bag into the passenger seat. The keys were in the ignition. Alex must have left them there. She was surprised he hadn’t left the motor running.
She drove to Chicago without stopping once, her mind churning furiously the whole time. One thing kept occurring to her like a refrain from a song she couldn’t stop replaying in her head. It echoed around her skull even as she sat there numbly in her lonely condominium that night.
She’d been the queen of all idiots for throwing herself into the crap that existed between Mitchell and Alex Carradine. It hurt like hell to think of how rigid and cold Alex’s ruggedly handsome face looked there at the end, but she had no one but herself to blame.
She stood wearily from her couch, her eyes glued to her small, fake Christmas tree. She couldn’t help but recall the perfect, fragrant tree Alex had cut down for her, couldn’t stop herself from recalling how his smile reached all the way to his blue eyes as he’d watched her while she made a show of switching on the lights once it was decorated.
She grabbed her duffel bag and headed down the hallway to her bedroom. She didn’t even bother to unpack, just wiggled out of her jeans, tossed off her sweater and fell onto her bed.
“Merry effing Christmas,” she muttered bitterly as she pulled the covers over her head. She clamped her burning eyelids shut, determined to forget the past several days of her life had ever occurred.
Two days later, she sat in the back of a cab on her way from the offices of Littleton, Marks and Carradine to her condominium. The fact that she was practically the only person left working on the entire floor had gotten to her finally and she’d fled her office an hour early. She hadn’t planned on returning to work until tomorrow, her original intent had been to stay with Mitchell at his son’s resort until today.
Given the circumstances, she’d surprised her administrative assistant by returning to work the day after Christmas. Thankfully, she’d heard through the grapevine that Mitchell had stuck to his original vacation plans and hadn’t yet returned to the office.
It’d been bad enough keeping her thoughts focused on work—forcing her thoughts away from Alex Carradine—without having to worry about running into Mitchell as well.
She wondered, as she stared blankly out the cab window onto the snow-covered curb on Dearborn Avenue, if Mitchell would avoid returning to work as long as he sported the black eye Alex had given him. Just like she had on Christmas Day, Angeline experienced a savage feeling of satisfaction at the memory of Alex clocking his father while Mitchell stared at her so condescendingly.
What a jerk.
Obviously, she wasn’t doing a very good job of erasing either of the Carradine men from her mind altogether. It’d become exponentially more difficult to forget Alex ever since she’d finally gotten around to unpacking her duffel bag this morning.
Ever since she’d discovered what had been tucked between a sweater and a pair of jeans.
In her mind’s eye, she replayed for the thousandth time finding the hand-carved angel inside her duffel bag.
When had Alex put the angel in her bag? More importantly…why had he done it, especially after he’d made a point of reconsidering the wisdom of getting involved with her?
Angeline wished he wouldn’t have done it. Being able to dismiss Alex so wholly in her mind was only possible if she felt one hundred percent certain that he’d entirely rejected her.
Something caught her eye out of the corner of her vision.
“Wait,” she called out on an impulse to the cab driver. “I’ve changed my mind. Drop me off here, will you?”
A few seconds later, she stepped out on the curb, her eyes glued to the vision of the enormous, brightly lit Christmas tree in Daley Plaza. The air held the promise of snow, but the impending storm hadn’t kept people from traveling to the city during their Christmas holidays. Kids shouted with laughter as they flew down the makeshift slide on the Picasso sculpture. The shops in the little German village were doing a good business. Angeline caught the scent of hot chocolate and roasting chestnuts on the air.
She smiled a little wistfully before she wrapped her red scarf more tightly around her and headed toward the huge Christmas tree. What in the world had made her stop? Everyone looked so happy as they celebrated their holiday with family and friends. Was she some kind of masochist, intent on emphasizing the fact that she was alone and, yeah…a little heartbroken at Christmastime?
A tall man with dark hair wearing a black hip-length ski jacket turned from where he’d been standing gazing up at the Christmas tree. Angeline gasped in recognition.
As she stared open-mouthed at Alex Carradine, she admitted to herself she’d been kidding herself by saying she was a little heartbroken. One look into his familiar blue eyes and all the feelings he’d brought to life in her came flooding to the surface of her awareness.
Once she got past her initial shock at seeing him in Daley Plaza, she realized she had one small consolation to her mixed joy and anguish at running into him.
He looked every bit as surprised to see her as she did him.
“Angeline,” he said blankly before he took a step toward her.
“Alex. I…I didn’t know you’d be here.”
His brow furrowed in confusion. “I didn’t know you would be here, either.”
She swallowed what felt like grains of gravel in her throat and glanced unseeingly at the big Christmas tree. “You said it was your favorite place in the city at Christmastime.”
She sensed his smile rather than saw it. He came closer, stepping into the corners of her vision.
“You said it was your favorite place too.”
She shivered at the sound of his low, husky voice. “I guess it makes sense then. Why we’re both here,” she said, although in reality she didn’t think any of it made much sense at all.
“You left work early. Your administrative assistant told me you’d be at work until around five. I was just wasting time here until you left.”
She blinked and glanced up at him in surprise. He stood even closer than she’d thought he did. She wondered if his gaze on her was really so intent…so hot, or if it was an illusion cast from the thousands of lights on the Christmas tree.
“I was planning on waiting for you outside the offices of Littleton, Marks and Carradine.” He must have read the confusion and wonder on her face. “I don’t have your private phone number, Angeline. I don’t even know where you live. It was the only way I could find you. But instead…you came here.”
She was so dumbfounded by the message in his eyes—how was it that he always managed to broadcast his need so blatantly to her?—she found she didn’t know what to say for a few seconds. But the bitter memory of Christmas Day returned in a rush.
“So, am I to assume that you’ve had enough time to think about the misfortune of having seduced me?” she asked coldly.
He grimaced slightly and glanced away. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for saying that, Angeline. Not because it wasn’t true,” he said suddenly when she opened her mouth to say something sarcastic. “I did need a little time to think about what had happened. I know I can’t expect you to understand the complexities of my father’s and my relationship.” He sighed heavily, causing a cloud of mist to form in front of his face. “I’m not even sure I care about the complexit
ies anymore. See…the thing of it is, Angeline, when I told you that nothing between us had anything to do with Mitchell, I was wrong.”
She stiffened her spine and glared at him. “Astonish me.”
He gave her a dark glance. “What I mean is, in that moment when Mitchell implied…no when he flat out said he’d contrived for us to get together, I was so furious I couldn’t see straight. It was somehow even worse than considering that he’d asked you up there to flaunt that you were his in my face. Here I’d found this thing that felt like mine and mine alone, and he was claiming he’d been the one responsible for it. If you only knew…it was so like him. For a little bit, all I could feel was the insult of it.”
“Is that what it all comes down to, Alex? That when all is said and done, all I was to you was an embodiment of an insult from your father?”
“I don’t think you’re an insult. I think what Mitchell did was an insult. But that’s where his involvement in this ends. What’s done is done. The only thing I’m considering at this moment is you and me, Angel, you and me and what happened between us. Between us.”
Her heart seemed to forget its purpose for a moment as she stared into his determined face. As usual, his personal charisma, his sheer power when he became single-minded about something overwhelmed her. The realization made her glance away from his compelling visage.
“How do I know you won’t change your mind again?” she asked flatly.
“I never changed my mind to begin with. It’s true,” he said when she glanced at him doubtfully. “I was just trying to tell you on Christmas Day that I needed a little more time to myself after my father had left, but you took everything I said wrong. I apologize for not saying it right. I know I hurt you. But I never meant for you to get in your car and drive away from me, Angel.”
“You pulled up my car for me. You practically rolled out a red carpet and set up neon arrows pointing down the mountain!”
“I did not,” he exploded. “All I did was go and get your SUV unstuck while you pouted in the bathroom. I needed to do something physical to clear my head. Afterwards, I went out to my shed to return the tools I used to get your vehicle out of the ice, and when I came back, you were gone. It’s true, Angeline,” he said staunchly when she opened her mouth to argue.
Someone coughed nearby. Both of them glanced around uncomfortably when they realized how heated their discussion had become.
“You must be lying, Alex,” she said after a moment, her voice shaking with repressed emotion. She wanted to believe him all right, but… “You put the angel in my bag. You must have known I would leave. It was some kind of a…a…guilt gift.”
He moved briskly and Angeline realized he’d whipped his leather glove off his right hand. He pressed his fingertips to her cheek and lifted her jaw so that she met his stare.
“I put the angel in your bag on Christmas Eve. I didn’t want to embarrass you by making a big deal out of it,” he mumbled after a moment. For the first time, Angeline fully sensed his vulnerability. Before she knew that she’d intended it, her palm cradled his jaw, her gesture mirroring his. He closed his eyes briefly and lowered his head.
“You kept acting like I was a fool for making it clear how I felt about you. I thought it’d embarrass you if I just handed it to you.”
A deep feeling of tenderness swept through her. So strange, to experience it for this big, confident, thoroughly dominant man.
“Alex,” she whispered. She hadn’t realized she’d drawn closer to him until he lifted his head and his face hovered just an inch above her own. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for what your father did.”
He gave her a small smile. Angeline couldn’t stop herself from rubbing her leather-covered thumb over his firm lower lip.
“I’m not.”
Her eyebrows went up in surprise. The sound of Alex’s low laughter caused ripples of pleasure to course down her spine. She pressed closer to his long, hard body and went up on her tiptoes so she could press her mouth to his.
A minute later, feeling several degrees warmer from Alex’s kiss, she lowered her heels to the pavement.
“Do you mean it?” she asked dazedly as she fought through a sensual haze to recall what they’d been talking about before they kissed.
His dark brows went up in an ironic expression. He kissed her once on the nose. “You’re not going to make some kind of weird Oedipal interpretation if I say yes I’m glad my dad did it, are you?”
She pressed a finger to her mouth. “My lips are sealed.”
“Hopefully not for long,” Alex murmured, his face full of combined mirth and sexual heat as he stared at her lips. “But yeah. Mitchell may have done it for all the wrong reasons, but I have to admit…he did it. He brought us together. He must have seen something on that evening in McAllister’s four years ago…something I didn’t recognize.”
“What?” Angeline whispered, causing the mist from their mouths to merge into a single cloud of vapor.
“That I was too stubborn to go after what I wanted if my father was even remotely involved.”
She smiled and gave him a wry glance before he lowered his head and kissed her long and hot.
“I have to admit something else, Angel,” he said later.
“What?” she asked huskily as she stared up at Alex’s handsome face glowing from the festive lights. Snowflakes began to fall on her eyelashes and cheeks and salted Alex’s dark hair and goatee. He pressed his mouth lightly to her opened lips, caressing her as he spoke.
“After all those Christmases of getting all those meaningless gifts from my dad, he finally had the good grace to get it right.” He kissed her softly before he lifted his head again. “And I have a really good feeling this’ll make up for everything that came before. Angel?”
“Yes?” she whispered, utterly mesmerized by the man who stood before her.
“They’re predicting another snowstorm tonight. I don’t suppose you have someplace nice and warm for a weary traveler to rest, do you?”
“Oh, yes. The warmest, nicest place you can imagine.”
She grabbed his hand and led him through the falling snow and holiday crowd to Dearborn Avenue.
About the Author
To learn more about Beth Kery, please visit www.bethkery.com or her blog at www.bethkery.com/blog. Send an email to Beth at [email protected] or join her Yahoo! group to join in the fun with other readers as well as Beth.
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/TotalExposure
Look for these titles by Beth Kery
Now Available:
Take a Stranger No More
Coming Soon:
Velvet Cataclysm
Putting the past to rest has never been this much fun.
My Christmas Wish
© 2009 Ember Case
Tara Walsh has come a long way from paying her dues in a smoky New Orleans club. Her albums sell millions, her tours sell out and she has a hit DVD. Her name is known around the world. Now she’s back home for a holiday charity concert—and to say a proper goodbye to the past. A past named Duncan Rousse.
Five years ago, Duncan pushed Tara away for one reason: to force her to reach for the stars. She deserves the life she’s earned, even though it left him with a broken heart that’s never healed. Having her back in his arms only makes the pain worse, yet the last thing he can do is beg her to stay.
One wild, passion-filled night in the sexy Cajun’s bed has Tara’s body singing with pleasure. But can they both get what they want this Christmas?
Warning, this title contains the following: explicit sex, second chances, making up for lost time with a sexy Cajun, and Christmas wishes that might really come true.
Enjoy the following excerpt for My Christmas Wish:
Looking at his lips had been a bad idea. Tara had too many memories of what they had felt like against her own. What they’d sounded like telling her goodbye.
She pushed the thought aside. Better to think about what they sounded like saying hello.
“We were starting to wonder if you’d left us behind forever.” His voice was as warm as her memories.
“It was hard to leave.” She held his gaze and saw the faint flinch as he recalled how she’d left. “It was harder to come back.”
He nodded slowly, accepting with that simple gesture both her leaving and his role in it. For a minute there was only the sound of the music and the feverish noise of the crowd on the dance floor surrounding them.
Memories of how it felt to be held in his strong arms filled the lull. Dangerous memories that she’d relived a thousand times in her dreams. How many times had they danced on that floor, his arms pulling her tight while she thought she’d found her home at last? She’d begun to believe in love and dream of happily-ever-after. Then her dreams had turned into nightmares and left her the way she’d been since she was eight years old. Alone.
You couldn’t change what had already been, and wishing for things to be different wasn’t going to make them so. With a mental shrug, Tara put the past where it belonged—away.
“The club looks like it’s doing good business. I was in Miami a few months ago and your new club there had a line out the door that stretched three blocks. You’ve done well with them.”
“Mais, we were lucky after the storms. The Brick Lady held up well to Katrina, better than many of the other buildings in the Quarter. We had to replace some of the tanks in the brewpub and we had to strip the first floor walls down to the studs. Some of the locals think the ghosts held off the worst of the flood waters and protected what they consider theirs.” He chuckled.
“Stranger things have happened in the French Quarter.” She let the smile that had always come naturally to her lips show, relaxing as the old feeling of intimacy came back. With Duncan it had always been this way, ever since the moment they’d met. When he was around, the rest of the world faded into the background until it was just the two of them. Nothing and no one else mattered.