A Naughty Little Christmas (Cowboys, Cops, and Kilts: 8 Seasonally Seductive Romances from Bestselling Authors)

by Randi Alexander

  “Smells delicious.”

  “Hope you can eat pork or like it. Otherwise, it’s sides for you.”

  He brushed by her, and she bit the inside of her cheek to keep from moaning aloud at the brief contact. Heath hadn’t put on a shirt, and while she wouldn’t admit it aloud, she was grateful. He had pulled on a pair of black sweats so he wasn’t walking around in his boxers. Not that she would have minded…but…it was better this way. At least that’s what she desperately tried to convince herself. She watched him move toward the small round table and picked up on the limp, even more prevalent now than it had been before. Either that or she knew what to look for.

  Christ, even his back had bruising and other marks which she really didn’t want to hazard a guess on what horrific conditions had caused them. Whatever it was, the man had gone through some serious pain. When he turned back to her, she’d composed her face, hiding the revulsion she’d felt at seeing them.

  “Does it bother you, sweets?” he asked, propping a hip against the counter. “My marks? Do they disgust you? Want me to cover them up?”

  She blinked and pulled glasses from the cupboard. “It bothers me to think of what you went through for them to be on your body. Other than that, no.” Ice then water from the fridge for her glass. “What would you like to drink?”

  “Water’s fine.” She filled his as well. “So it doesn’t bother you seeing all this over me?”

  Placing the glasses down on the counter, she sighed and faced him. She refused to give him the satisfaction of her saying yes. Holding his gaze, she crossed her arms and glared.

  “What bothers me is you trying to get a reaction out of me. I already told you what about them bothers me. The fact you keep pushing the issue tells me you’re spoiling for a fight and while I normally don’t have a problem with that, I’m hungry. It’s been a long day, and I’ve not had anything to eat since seven this morning, so if it’s all the same to you, could we table the try-and-freak-out-Kassia bit and eat?”

  “Would I get a reaction if I ate naked?” he asked as she walked by him.

  Her hands wobbled a bit, and she was grateful, if he noticed, he didn’t say anything about that. There would have been a definite reaction had he done that. They sat across from one another, and she dished him up first before her, said a quick prayer in her head and looked up to find him already shoveling food in.

  She didn’t mind; she enjoyed a man who could eat. And he looked like he’d not had a home-cooked meal in a long time. Not that he was skinny, for he wasn’t overly so, just like he needed some extra tender, loving care.

  And what? You’re going to be the one to give it to him? Her mind put up the proposition.

  She ignored the unwanted commentary and focused on eating. He was on his seconds when she had just finished her first serving. Settling back in the chair, she watched him eat. Head down, it was obvious he was used to a timed meal.

  “You can take your time,” she commented.

  His head jerked up and he pinned her with his steel hued eyes. “What?”

  “Your meal. You’re eating like it’s going to be taken from you if you don’t finish in minutes. Slow down.”

  He stared at her, and she had the funny feeling he wished to say something to her. Instead, he blinked, sat back a bit, and ate slower. She kept her fingers along the cold glass as she watched him. A few moments passed, and he stared at her.

  “You’re not eating anymore?”

  “I’m good.”

  Truth was, she wasn’t entirely sure she could eat anymore. She’d never been so aware of a man before in her entire life. It didn’t make sense. Knowing this one for less than five hours and yet all she could think on for longer than ten seconds was how it would be to have him fucking her.

  “You’re a great cook. I haven’t had food like this in…a long time.”

  His praise had her smiling. “Thank you. I enjoy cooking.” She got up and started some coffee before watching him in her periphery. Even though his gaze wasn’t on her, she had the feeling he observed her.

  She fixed coffee and set a mug of it down before him then took hers to her chair and added liberal amounts of sugar in hers. No cream. She just liked it sweet. Unbidden, her gaze drifted back to the marks on his upper body. She couldn’t imagine going through whatever it took to get those marks.

  “You want to ask about them, ask.”

  She flushed, ashamed to have been staring. “I’m sorry. I just can’t imagine what you went through to have such marks on your body.”

  He put the fork on his plate and stared at her. She nearly held her breath as he drank some coffee and sighed. “I was held prisoner for a few months. These are the reminders of my time at their fine establishment.”

  Kassia waited. There had to be a punch line coming for the joke she must not have gotten. However, he didn’t say anything else, just went back to eating.

  “You’re serious?”

  “Not something anyone would joke about, sweets.”

  “And your leg, too?”

  “Shot twice. My hosts weren’t exactly keen on good hygiene for me. It healed poorly, and I’ll always have a limp.”

  “Who the fuck would do such a thing?”

  His entire body tensed, fingers flexing around the fork in his hand. “Those who want to see our country fail.”

  “Balt said you served in the military. What branch?”

  “I was a sergeant in the Army.”

  She heard the strain when he said ‘was’ and understood he wished he still served. “Do they hurt?”

  “Not as much as my healing ribs but yes.”

  “Do you have something to put on the bruising?”

  “I pop pills and hope I heal.”

  She thought about the cream in her bag but kept it to herself. “I know it doesn’t mean much, but I’m sorry. For what you had to go through for keeping us safe.”

  Heath sat at the table and observed the woman who’d just fed him one hell of a meal. She looked comfortable in her sweats and baggy shirt. It didn’t matter to him what she wore; she was gorgeous. Right now, however, all he could focus on was how she’d thanked him for his service and apologized for what he’d gone through.

  She stood at the sink now, washing the dishes. Her moments were graceful and arousing. He admitted it; he’d wanted to shock her by not wearing his shirt. She’d recognized what he’d attempted to do and called him on it. A small smile lifted his lips. He should have known a cousin of Balt’s wouldn’t be such a wimp.

  The only picture he’d ever seen of her was from years back. She’d definitely changed since then. And he understood why she didn’t recognize him. There was a picture of him in this house with Balt, but he’d had long shoulder-length hair and a full beard. He was about to depart on a mission and had stopped in to see his friend briefly. Hell, had he not been one of the two in the photo, he’d not have known who it was either.

  Their semi-truce over dinner may have vanished. Either way, he didn’t know what to say to her. He was attracted to her, and she was the first woman who’d looked at his bruising and scars and not run the other way screaming. That wasn’t all, though; she had something special about her. Something which made him want to protect her.

  “Who’s Seamus?”

  He blinked and scowled at her. “What? What did you say?”

  She wiped her hand off on the dishtowel, her hip propped against the counter’s edge. “Seamus. You said just now that Seamus would have liked me. So I asked who he was.”

  Heath shoved back his chair, the sound painful to his ears, and jumped to his feet. “Don’t ever mention his name again.”

  Then, he returned to the bedroom and sat in the corner chair by the window, turning the small light on. His leg throbbed but it was nothing compared to the pain in his heart. She had no right, none to mention that name. It didn’t matter if he had said anything.

  No logic came to dispute him, and he sat there, stewing in the room as more snow fel
l and added to the accumulated amount on the ground.

  The knock on the door snapped him from the trance he’d been in. He’d lost track of time. “What?” he barked.

  “May I come in?”

  Gods, her voice, it was the thing wet dreams were made of. “Sure.”

  He waited for her to turn the overhead light on but she didn’t. Her steps were soft as she crossed the carpeted floor to stand beside his chair. He stared up at her from beneath lowered lids. She looked composed and only when she took her gaze from the window to look at him did he drop his.

  “I brought you some cream which should help your bruising.” She held out a tube.

  He stared at it. “Why?”

  “Why should it help? It’s Arnica. It stimulates activity of your white blood cells. It also has anti-inflammatory qualities in it.”

  “No, why would you bring it to me?” By all accounts, she should be pouting for his treatment of her. At least the women he was acquainted with would be.

  “Because you’re in pain and could use it. I can put it on your back if you’d like.”

  “So, this is all out of the goodness of your heart.” The words slid out on a sneer and she jerked back like he smacked her.

  “You, Heath Dixon, are an ass. Handsome as sin, but an ass. You don’t want it, just say so. I was only trying to be nice because you look like you could use a friend. My mistake, it won’t happen again. Fuck getting along. We can just pass each other in silence for the remaining days. This was my fault for believing Balt when he said you were one of the good guys.” She whirled around and left.

  He slumped back against the chair and cursed when some of the wood hit an extra sore spot. What the hell is wrong with me? She didn’t do anything wrong. He was pissed over Seamus and took it out on her. The one person who’d actually been nice to him merely because.

  “Great job, asswipe,” he admonished himself. “Piss off yet another person.”

  He scrubbed his hand over his face and pushed to his feet. His leg screamed in agony for being in the position it had for so long. Christ, how long had he been sitting there? Hobbling to the door, he grabbed a shirt, putting it on as he bit back his moan and made his way to the living room, where there were still lights on.

  “I know, Chris. I’m just not sure it’s the best thing for me to do,” she said into the phone.

  Chris. That could be a man’s name. Heath didn’t stop until he stood before her, then he watched her.

  She tried to pretend as if she didn’t see him and continued to carry on her conversation but he knew he was getting to her.

  “I’ll call you later, Chris. Miss you, too. Have fun.” She ended the call and crossed her arms while glancing up at him. “Yes?”

  “You’re right. I am an ass.”

  She wasn’t impressed, he could tell for her expression didn’t change. He shifted his weight a bit and fought the urge to sit. His leg didn’t normally hurt him this much, but the cold weather wasn’t helping matters any.

  “Anyway, I came to apologize for my behavior and perhaps take you up on the cream.”

  Her gaze lowered to his leg, and she nodded. He didn’t move, and she had to slide past him. Inhaling deeply, he allowed her scent to fill his nostrils. Lord, he didn’t know women could smell so good without trying hard. And he would bet anything she didn’t try.

  She returned a few moments later and held out the tube. Anger still lingered in her gaze, and he wanted to make it disappear. He liked her with a gentle glow in her eyes and a lingering smile on her face, as if she knew a secret and couldn’t wait to share it with everyone else.

  Ensuring to graze her fingers with his own as he retrieved the tube from her outstretched hand, he hid his smile at the slight catch in her breath. Mad or not, the attraction still sizzled between them. And he intended to keep it that way.

  “Are you going to talk to me again?” Her response was to walk away from him. “Guess not,” he muttered, watching that admirable view of her swaying hips. Kassia never looked back at him, just went to the room she currently occupied, and he winced when the door clicked shut.

  Limping back to his room, he picked up his phone and dialed his friend, Balt. The cream sat beside him on the bed.

  “Hello?”

  “Balt,” he said by way of greeting.

  “’Sup, Rebel? That cousin of mine treating you all right?”

  “She cooked supper. Did an awesome job, haven’t eaten that good since before I signed up in the service.”

  Female voices could be heard in the background. Heath rolled his eyes. Balt was never one who went without women as companions. He wasn’t a man who believed in men only; dude loved the ladies. And they loved him in return.

  “Am I keeping you from something?”

  “Naw, they’ll be here after I get off the phone with you. What’s going on?”

  “I fucked up with Kassia.”

  “You hurt her, and I’ll break every fuckin’ bone in your worthless God damn—”

  “Calm down,” he interrupted. “I’m not talking like that but good to know where I stand.”

  “Man, I love you, but she’s special. We get along better than she and her own siblings do. All three of us will protect her with every breath in our body.” A brief pause. “What were you talking about then?”

  “I was an asshole. She was only trying to help and I…well, I sorta took out my frustration on her.”

  “The pain?”

  Balt was one of the few who actually knew what Heath’d gone through over there in the little cave as they tortured him for information. Blowing out a breath, he nodded. “Yes. You know me, I can be a royal ass, but unlike most, she didn’t back down and apologize for upsetting me. She stood up and called me on my behavior.”

  His friend chuckled. “That’s our Kassia. Never one to back down, my feisty little cousin. So what’s the problem? Go apologize to her.”

  “I did.”

  “Well then, there you go. Problem solved.”

  “Don’t think so, man. She walked away without saying a word.”

  Silence met his claim. After a while, Balt spoke again. “You telling me she walked away without speaking at all?”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s not like her. Kassia’s not one to hold a grudge. What the hell did you say to her?”

  Heath flopped back on the bed. “I told you.” He shifted into a more comfortable position. “Although I did yell at her about saying Seamus’ name.”

  “Dude, I can’t fix this for you. Kassia will clam up if she is hurt. It takes a lot to get her there, so whatever the hell is going on between you must have done that.”

  “How do I make it up to her?”

  “Are you into the Christmas spirit?”

  Not this year. Hell, he hadn’t been for more than a few years. He didn’t get home to celebrate it and even had he been allowed to leave, he wasn’t welcome there so it was pointless.

  “Not really, no.”

  “I suggest you get that way. Kassia loves this time of year. Loves it. Although, how she can get in the mood when she’s in hot Texas instead of surrounded by snow, I have no clue.”

  Muffled sounds reached Heath, and he rolled his eyes, well aware of what was just about to happen to his friend.

  “I’ll let you go. I’ve no desire to be on the phone with you while you’re getting blown. I’ll figure it out. Thanks for letting me crash here, man.”

  “You’re just jealous no one is there to do you. Don’t make me regret it, Heath. Don’t hurt my cousin; I told her you were good people. I would hate to be proven a liar.”

  Ending the call, Heath dropped the phone to the mattress beside him before sitting up. He gingerly removed his shirt and opened the tube she’d given him. Balt was wrong about one thing; there was a woman here he wouldn’t mind blowing him at all. Despite the attraction, she wasn’t talking to him right now, and he doubted she’d be up for some sex.

  Although, many said there
was a fine line between making love and making war. They’d fought, so now, perhaps they could make up. Without words, just remove clothing and see what happened.

  With a sigh, he began applying the cool cream to his injuries. When it got to be too much for him to reach, he bit the bullet and got back to his feet. It wasn’t a huge distance from the master bedroom to the spare room Kassia claimed, yet it felt like a huge yawning void he crossed. Resting for a second, he took several deep breaths before knocking.

  Kassia opened it moments later, and he forgot to breathe. Her hair sat piled up haphazardly on her head, some wisps floating around her face. She watched him with eyes full of suspicion but she didn’t back away or slam the door in his face, so he took it as a good sign. Progress.

  He held up the tube and shrugged. No change in her expression. “I would appreciate some help if you’re still willing.”

  She brushed by him, drawing the door shut behind her, and walked back to his room. He smacked his lips and pivoted. Still not a word, but at least she was willing to help him. His room sat ablaze from the lights she’d turned on. Overhead as well as the one by the bed. She stood by the headboard and fiddled with the cap.

  Respecting her wish for silence, he crawled across the king-size bed and lay on his stomach. His breathing suffered when the mattress dipped and he knew she sat beside him. That subtle spicy scent she wore wafted around him, and he bit the inside of his lip, grateful to be on his stomach so she couldn’t see the rock-hard erection threatening to poke a hole in the mattress.

  The medicinal smell of the cream reached him, and he tensed, waiting for her to slap it on his bruises. He should have known better. Her touch was light and soft as she worked it in. Electricity thrummed through him, and he locked his body so he wouldn’t turn and reach for her. He longed to encourage her touch to linger over other body parts.

  Small, concise circles worked in the medicine, and before he knew it, he had relaxed beneath her touch. Lulled by the hypnotic movements of her hands, he drifted off to sleep. When he came to, there was only one light on in the room, the one beside the bed, and a glass of water sat next to his pill bottle.