by CJ England
She grinned at the memory. Then Givré had carried her up and they'd done it all over again in a hot shower.
She glanced into the living room where he sat watching TV. When he'd found that he could watch sports from all over the world, he'd been ecstatic. He'd begged her to show him how to work the remote and once she did, he'd been enthralled. If he wasn't with her, working, or in her, making love ... he was staring at sports.
Amy bit her lip and turned back to where she was making her famous butterscotch cookies. They hadn't left the house all week, preferring each other's company to any others. But she couldn't stay in here locked away forever, no matter how much fun she was having. She'd already received several phone calls from Julie and Sophia, plus the date for the Winter Wonderland Ball was getting closer. If she was going to let Givré take her, he would have to gets clothes other than the few she'd bought him at the neighborhood ClothesMart.
But it was the future that was confusing her. He was either a lunatic, or if she was to believe his story ... a spirit. Either way, he wasn't going to be sticking around. He'd either be hauled away to the funny farm, or head back into the sky and she would lose him. Her stomach sank at the thought. How had he become so important to her so quickly? Was it the sex? She had to admit as a lover, Givré was fantastic. Creative, spontaneous and completely unselfish, when he touched her she felt like she was the only woman in the world.
But it was more than that. It was the way he watched her ... as if she were the answer to the most important question ever asked. Or how he would suddenly cup her cheek in his cool hand and press a gentle kiss to her lips. She would feel so precious, so needed. She had never felt anything like that before from a man.
She shook her head and mixed the cookie dough. She wasn't used to feeling so confused and unsure. She wanted to just let go and enjoy the feelings he aroused in her, but her practical side screamed for caution. She didn't really know this man. Just because they had good, okay ... fantastic sex together, that didn't mean they were soulmates. Even though being with him felt so ... right.
* * * *
Givré rubbed his chin thoughtfully as he watched Ami thorough the kitchen door. The last week had been the best he could ever remember ... in either his human or spirit life. But he could sense that Ami wasn't at peace and that bothered him. Even now he could see her stirring cookie dough, as if beating on it would make whatever was bothering her go away.
His heart skipped a beat as she glanced his way and smiled. Every year at Christmas time, he was sent down to help a needy soul. The first time he'd painted a portrait of a woman's dying son so she would have something to remember the boy by. Another time, he'd helped a teenage girl find the courage to tell her father she wanted to be a sculptor. A few times, he'd been sent as a model to an aspiring artist. And if the chance had arisen to be their lover as well, Givré was French enough to take it, but it was never the only reason. He was no gigolo. Each time, he had a talent that would help him ... help the person he was sent to.
But this time was different. Ami was an artist, and they had much in common, but she didn't need his talent. In fact, other than being her date for the upcoming dance, Givré couldn't figure out why he'd been sent to her. Surely, if all she needed was a date, the powers-that-be could have arranged one for her ... with a living man. Could it be this time ... this assignment was more?
He thanked them daily, he was the one sent to her. He found much to admire about his sexy charge. She was smart, talented and so beautiful, one glance from her made him ache with need. He'd acted fast on that attraction, claiming her almost immediately, before he was truly aware of what was going on, but he couldn't be sorry for it, even though he worried that Ami was.
Every day spent in her company made him wish he had the power to stop time forever. He didn't want the dance to arrive, because when it was over, he would have to leave her and head back to the limbo of the sky. He was beginning to suspect that when he did, he would be leaving a part of him behind.
His heart.
Givré gritted his teeth. He had to figure out why he'd been sent to her and he had less than a week to do it. And if his heart was lost in the process ... c'est la vie. His Ami was what was important ... now.
* * * *
Later on that day, they both lay together in Amy's darkened bedroom. Their hearts still beat fast from the incredible lovemaking they had just experienced. She trailed her fingers up his strong chest and sighed.
"You do have a way of making a girl feel special.” She chewed her lip as she thought. “Ummm ... j'aime faire j'aime avec vous?
Givré chuckled. “Close ma ange. To say ‘I love making love with you', it would be ... j'aime faire l'amour avec vous."
"Oh,” Amy pouted. “I thought I'd get that one."
He bent and nibbled her lower lip. “It is the thought that counts ... no? I knew what you meant and agree wholeheartedly.
She smiled and kissed his naked chest. “Well ... this is one girl that won't be giving you the ‘cold shoulder'.” She grinned at the pun. “It just keeps getting better."
His arms tightened. “Oui ... it does."
"I wish we could stay like this, but all this exercise makes me hungry."
Givré raised his eyebrows. “Are the cookies done? I drool from the scent of them."
Amy grinned and giving him one final kiss, rolled off the bed. “I'll go see. You want me to bring some in here?"
"Non,” he answered. “I will come to you. I will open a bottle of wine and we can have our snack in by the fireplace."
She smiled. “I like that.” Picking up her robe, she swiftly slid it on, throwing him a kiss when she was done.
When she was gone, Givré sighed and leaned back against the headboard. She was right. It did get better and better. Yet, it hurt as well, because each time he touched her, he couldn't help but think it would soon be over and he would lose her. Worse yet, from his vantage point in the sky, he would have to watch as the woman he was losing his heart to, went on to fall in love with another man.
Amy danced as she made her way to the kitchen. “Have yourself a merry little Christmas. Let your hearts be light,” she sang. She giggled to herself. Her heart was certainly light right now. And it was all due to the sexy Frenchman in her bed. She grinned as she thought again of how handsome he was. “I'll bet he looks great in a tux,” she whispered to herself.
The knock on the door startled her, and after a quick glance back at her bedroom, she smoothed her hair and went to answer it. One look through the peephole made her groan.
"I know you're there, Amy.” Her best friend's voice shouted though the door at her. “Let us in."
Amy rolled her eyes and opened the door. Sophia and Julie rushed in, bringing a wave of cold air and perfume with them.
"I told you she was sick,” Julie cried as she took in Amy's robed appearance. “I knew we should have checked sooner."
Sophia narrowed her eyes. “She does look flushed."
"I'm fine you guys,” Amy said hurriedly. She had to get them out of here ... and fast. “I've just been working so hard getting stuff ready for Christmas, I decided to relax today. I'm sorry I worried you."
"You shouldn't push yourself so much,” Julie said with real concern. “I know this is your busy season, but you have plenty of employees to help."
"Yeah, you should delegate the work,” Sophia agreed.
"I am. I am.” Amy glanced over her shoulder. “I have things under control. I've brought a lot of work home to do, which is why I ... ummm ... haven't been around."
"Still,” worried Julie. “The last thing you need is to get sick. Your big night is almost here. You have to be well for that."
Sophia took off her gloves, sniffing the air. “What's that delicious smell?"
Amy swallowed hard. “Uh, I made cookies, but I didn't make enough to share. I'm sorry. Maybe next—"
"Ami?"
The three women froze at the deep masculine tone.
; Sophia recovered first. “Who the hell is that?"
Just then, Givré stepped into the room wearing nothing but a pair of boxer briefs. “Ami ... do you wish to shower before eating or...” He broke off when he saw the three women by the door. He grinned, unworried about his lack of clothes. “Ahhh, you must be Ami's ... amis.” He laughed at the wording as he strode over.
"You are Sophia,” he said as he raised her hand to his lips. “She described you perfectly, but such beauty ... I did not expect."
"Th ... ank you,” Sophia stuttered.
"And you...” He turned to a gaping Julie. “You have to be Julie.” He bent and kissed her hand as well. “Also as pretty as a picture.” He stared at the three of them. “I would love to paint the three of you. In a meadow. Surrounded by flowers the same colors as your hair. I would call it...” He thought a moment. “Beautés colorées ... Colorful Beauties."
"Amy.” Sophia cleared her throat as she stared at the handsome man in front of her. “Who is this?"
Sighing, Amy gave in to the inevitable. “This is ... Givré. He's ... ummm ... visiting."
Sophia broke into a grin. “Is this what came up last Sunday?"
Givré grinned back at her. “And many days after that, as well."
"Givré!” Amy's cheeks stained with color as the girls giggled.
"What is it, ma chérie?” he asked innocently. “Your friends already know we are lovers, n'est pas ce vari."
"I know that's true,” Amy gritted out, red with embarrassment. “But you don't have to announce it to the world."
"We aren't the world, sweetie,” Julie laughed. Her eyes swept over Givré with approval. “But we are your best friends. And you kept us in the dark. That's a no-no."
"If this is the type of work you bring home,” Sophia snickered. “I'm going to go into ice sculpting. To hell with dress design."
Amy felt a hot flash of jealousy as her friends stared admiringly at Givré. He was hers to look at. No one else's! She turned to him, her eyes glowing with anger. “You should put something on ... now!"
Givré opened his mouth to argue, but then got a good look at her. She was embarrassed, yes ... but more than that ... she was jealous. His heart leaped. If she was jealous, she must care. And if she cared ... she could love. Perhaps this whole thing wasn't just for Amy. Perhaps this assignment wasn't an assignment after all.
Chapter Five
Have a holly, jolly Christmas; and when you walk down the street
Say Hello to friends you know, and everyone you meet.
'Holly Jolly Christmas'
"You want to tell me what the hell you were thinking?” Amy stomped into the bedroom after Julie and Sophia had left.
Givré's eyes widened at her tone. “What? What is this anger?"
Amy rolled her eyes at him. “Don't be an idiot. I didn't want anyone to know you were here. How am I supposed to explain ... you?” Too late, she realized how she must sound.
His eyes went dark with anger. “Idiot,” he growled, accenting the word strongly. “You call me ... idiot?” His sensuous lips firmed. “You wish me to hide away? To pretend we are not amoureux ... lovers?” He took a step away from her. “You are shamed of me?"
"It's not that, Givré.” She waved her hands around. “I just don't know what to say to people. You appeared out of nowhere."
"How about the truth?"
Her mouth dropped open. “You want me to tell them you think you're my snowman come to life?"
At her words, his fury grew. “You still do not believe me. You think I lie to you. Mon Dieu! I thought we were past this."
Amy shook her head. “I'm sorry, but I never said I believed you. What I said was I wanted to be with you. Whether you're a Christmas spirit or a wacko ... I didn't care."
"Wacko!” Givré took a deep breath and then swore in fluid French. “After a week of loving each other, this is what you say ... what you do?” Pushing past Amy, he bent and grabbed his boots and coat from the chair near the bed. “You do not want your friends to know me; you call me an idiot and crazy. Why am I even here?"
Furiously, he pulled on his boots. “I am fine to baise ... to fuck, but I am unworthy to show to the public."
"That's not what I meant!"
"If you will not show me to your best friends, Ami ... how will I escort you to the dance? All this time, I thought we were building something. But all you want is ... what do you call it? A fuck buddy? No more."
"Givré!” Amy gasped. “That's not what I think ... what I feel."
"Really?” he snarled. “It is what it looks like!” Turning he made for the door, shrugging on his coat as he went.
"Where are you going?” Amy called as she ran after him.
"Out ... away,” Givré shouted. “I do not stay where I am not welcome.” He glared at her, his face filled with anger and hurt, then wrenched open the door and disappeared.
"Don't go,” she cried as she raced after him. “Givré!” Tears fell as she watched him stride down the sidewalk and out of her life.
* * * *
Instinctively, he headed for downtown, wanting to be absorbed into the crowd of Christmas shoppers. He stomped down the icy sidewalk, his thoughts in turmoil. How could she say such things to him? After all the time they'd spent together ... she still distrusted him?
Granted, he knew that the story of being a Christmas spirit might be hard to swallow, but he'd thought the connection they had would make her realize that he was telling the truth.
He stopped dead in his tracks. Could it be that he was the only one that felt the connection? Perhaps she didn't feel the emotion that he felt for her. Givré sighed deeply, rubbing unknowingly at his chest. She was becoming very important to him. Never before had he felt this way in all the other times he'd helped someone. The thought of leaving her was tearing his heart out.
"Mon Dieu,” he swore aloud. “I do not even know what she needs from me. This is intolerable!"
He trudged down the walk, his shoulders hunched against the cold. Some how he must make her understand. For him ... it was much more than just sex. What he felt when they were together was almost indescribable ... even for a man as emotional as himself. He snorted. How could he explain to her, when he was so confused himself?
Givré didn't know how long he walked before his legs started aching. Shadows dipped in the sky and it grew much colder. A clock he could see through a store window said it was close to five when he finally sat down on a wooden bench in the small park near the town center. Wrapping his coat securely around him, he stared at the bustling crowd. They were all laughing and smiling, their arms filled with Christmas packages. His heart fell. Only another week and it would be Christmas Eve. And as soon as the clock tolled the hour of Christmas ... he would have to leave her. All at once the knowledge was unbearable.
He didn't want to go back to the sky into limbo. He wanted to stay here ... with Ami. The thought of leaving her made him sick.
"Hello there."
A woman's voice startled him out of his reverie. He looked up and saw an attractive dark haired woman staring down at him. She smiled, revealing even white teeth.
"What are you doing out here, sitting all alone in the cold?"
Givré smiled politely. “I am taking the air."
The woman's eyes widened. “You're French.” Her gaze turned almost predatory. “I adore a man with an accent."
He wasn't sure how to answer so he stayed quiet.
She sat next to him. “I'm Gwen."
"Givré,” he allowed. “It is my pleasure to make your acquaintance."
Gwen's eyes traveled over him and her smile widened. She was always on the lookout for a new man, and this one was very handsome. “Are you in town on vacation?"
"Non.” He shook his head. “I am visiting a ... friend."
"Really?” She scooted closer. “Male or female."
"Most definitely female."
"Oh...” she gave a little pout. “What are you doing out here
, then?"
Not wanting to tell her of the words he'd spoken in anger, he gave a Gallic shrug. “She was working. I decided to take a walk."
"What does she do? Perhaps I know her."
Givré sighed. “She is an artist."
"Really?” The woman's face perked up. “So am I. I'm a watercolorist.” Her chin went up proudly. “In fact I'm being honored by the city just next week for my work."
That caught his attention. “This is a coincidence. So is my lady."
Gwen's brown eyes narrowed. “Then your friend must be Amy Cassidy."
"Oui ... you know her?"
She tossed her head. “Just acquaintances. We hardly move in the same circles. I don't consider what she does real art. It has no lasting appeal."
Givré stiffened. “Her work is beautiful. Ami is very talented. I too am an artist and I know genius when I see it."
The dark haired woman snorted. “Sorry ... An ice sculptress ranks right up there with a sand castle builder or a cake decorator in my book. She may have talent, but she is no artist. She should never have been honored in the first place. Not with real artists.” She smiled, and pressing herself against his shoulder, ran a scarlet nail down the front of his coat.
"But I'd love to show you my studio. If Amy is too busy, maybe you'd model for me instead.” She licked her lips. “I'd love to paint you."
Givré was appalled by the gall of the woman. His eyes flashed his anger. “I think not. You cannot insult my lady, and then try to seduce me in the same breath."
"Why not?” she asked trailing her hand down to his lap. “It's not like you're serious about each other."
He grabbed her hand and tossed it away from him. “That is where you are wrong. I am very serious about Ami. In fact...” Realization flowed through him and he went very still. When he spoke, his voice was awed. “I believe I am in love with her."
Gwen jerked away from him. “You've got to be kidding!"
Givré felt the warmth of understanding flow through him. He wanted to leap and dance in joy. No wonder he was so angry and confused. He had fallen in love. In his former life, or all the times he'd been coming back to earth, while he'd cared about different people, he'd never before taken the plunge and loved.