Christmas Angel

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Christmas Angel Page 16

by Amanda McIntyre


  Whoever it was, it had better be life and death.

  “Hey, Shado,” the feminine voice responded. “Did I catch you at a bad time?”

  Understatement of the century. “Uh, I did turn in early but it’s okay. What’s up? Are you guys having a good time with your folks?” He glanced down at his lap, remembering the possibilities of his own good time seconds before.

  “This was a great idea. And I don’t know how you and Dad did it, but I wanted to thank you for the puppy for Danny Jr. It’s been a godsend this Christmas.” The gratitude in his sister-in-law’s voice sliced at his conscience. She and his brother deserved to have this kind of intimacy together. Guilt assailed him.

  “I’m glad he likes him, but I warn you that breed of husky can get uh, pretty…large.” The mattress shifted. Angel’s hand smoothed over his shoulder, and she slipped around him, lowering to her knees and making herself cozy between his thighs.

  “He’s so cute. You should see the two of them scampering through the snow. The other day, he got away, and Danny Jr. had to run to the neighbor’s house to go after him—”

  Snippets of her commentary dissolved into an erotic haze.

  “Oh my God—” He squeezed his eyes tight, prisoner to his carnal need.

  “Oh, it’s safe. I promise, Uncle Shado,” Penny chided. “We’ve gotten to know the neighbors very well. They’re a nice older couple—grandparent type. Just the same, I’ve checked them out like you cautioned me to do.”

  “Good, yeah, that’s…that’s real good.” Angel had a masterful touch. God help him, he didn’t even want to know where she’d honed her craft.

  “I’m glad you approve. So, do you think you’ll be able to come out?”

  Shado’s heart pounded in his ears. “Come…out?” He braced his fist on the bed, holding himself upright. Fire licked at his flesh. He was hanging on by a thread.

  “You mentioned when we spoke earlier you might try to come and spend the holiday here.” She sighed. “You don’t have another undercover assignment, do you?”

  Nope, this one was purely above the covers. “I’m not sure.” He gritted his teeth. Angel massaged his balls in her soft palm. “Yeah, maybe…coming.” He blinked and tried to focus on the conversation. “I’m sorry, what’d you say?”

  “You sound distracted. Are you on the computer?” Her voice lifted with a lilt.

  “Dad has one of those webcam thingies, maybe we could hook up and—”

  “Not tonight. Not a good idea.” He leaned forward to catch his breath and kissed the top of Angel’s head.

  “Okay, well maybe another time, then. You let me know if things free up and you can come, okay? And honey, I love you dearly, but I hate thinking of you sitting alone every night. You really should try to get out more. Meet a nice girl, have some fun.”

  “Right.” He breathed through the dryness in his mouth. What the woman was doing to him would be a paying job in his current assignment.

  “Okay, we’ll talk soon. Sweet dreams.”

  “Suweeet…yeah, back atcha.” His hand shook as he searched for the cradle to hang up the phone, and he realized he hadn’t confirmed whether or not he’d come.

  A moot point if there ever was one.

  Every muscle in his body tightened, and he trembled as he pushed closer to the precipice of orgasmic euphoria. He licked his lips, running his hand over the top of her head. “Sweetheart…oh Lord, Angel, I’m—” The remainder of his thoughts slid into oblivion, replaced by a lengthy, satisfied groan. His body shuddered in a powerful climax. His arms gave way and he collapsed, out of breath, staring at the ceiling.

  “Was that your sister-in-law?” She crawled up beside him.

  Penny, by all rights, was the last thing on his mind. He nodded and turned to Angel. More importantly, he didn’t know how the hell he was going to keep his hands off her. He swallowed hard and sat up, resting his elbows to his knees. The number of times he’d crossed the line recently began to resemble the yard lines on a football field. The truth of it was he’d been with women before—sexy, accomplished women and no one—not one came close to how he felt when they were together. A myriad of emotions bounced around in his gut—fear, desire, and one that made him good at what he did—curiosity. She snuggled against his back, draping her arms around his neck. Her lips touched his shoulder, and his body reacted as though ready to give it another go.

  You gotta know when to draw the line.

  He peeled her hands off his chest, unable to look at her. “I need to call

  Gleason.”

  She leaned around him, searching his face. “Why should he need to know?”

  He sighed. “About the intruder.” He rubbed where an ache had started in his chest.

  “Did you want me to wait here?” she asked.

  “You’d probably like a bubble bath. I’ll run one for you before I call.” It was a classic cop-out maneuver and by the expression on her face she, too, saw it for what it was.

  “You go ahead. I can manage myself.”

  “You’re sure?” he asked, standing up to hunt for his pants.

  “I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time.” She glanced at him as she leaned down to sweep up her clothes.

  He stopped. “How long?”

  She paused at the door, and he heard her soft chuckle. “Forever, it seems.”

  It was a weird answer, but then again this was a weird situation. “You’re sure you’re okay?”

  She cast a glance over her shoulder before she walked out. “Just leave your money on the nightstand.”

  He stared at where she’d been a moment before, and the one thought that crossed his mind was something his father would say to him or Danny when he couldn’t make sense of some ridiculous act they’d done. If you had a fuckin’ brain, you’d take it out and play with it.

  He stuffed his legs in his jeans, more than a little frustrated with her blithe response, more so at himself for not seeing where this kind of thing was headed. She was an amazing woman, no doubt, but the pattern was forming. Hadn’t he warned her he couldn’t give her the emotional shit?

  Of course he was attracted to her, as much as she was to him, but instant attraction, great sex, was not enough to balance insane schedules, missed events, dangerous assignments, and like tonight—having his work threaten his personal life. Didn’t she get he couldn’t provide the happily ever after she wanted—if not now—then later?

  By virtue of her sweet nature, her caring for him in small ways, adding touches of “home” to his life, he’d allowed himself to buy into the fantasy and had crossed the line. Reality sent a cold reminder up his spine—when this was over, she’d be gone. Who in the world could stomach being around a guy so disconnected from his emotions? She was a nice girl. Gleason was right. She sure as hell deserved better. He sat down on the bed and rubbed his thumb over his forehead, then picked up the phone to call his mentor. Maybe the dance, getting out among other people, would put things in perspective for both of them.

  “You do realize what time it is?” Jack’s sleep voice sparked images of another phone conversation earlier.

  “Sorry, man. I hope I’m not disturbing your beauty sleep.” Shado scratched his neck, shifting uncomfortably, likely from guilt. He darted a look at the clock by his bed. It read after eleven.

  “Yeah, well, any earlier and your head would be on the hood of my squad car.

  Give me a second, I’m going to take this in the other room.”

  Shado waited, hearing the rustle of sheets at the other end of the line. He heard Jack’s deep southern drawl speaking low to his wife. “Go back to sleep, baby girl. I’ll be right back.

  A powerful loneliness swelled in the pit of Shado’s stomach. He and Angel had an attraction to each other—hot as a flash fire—but not like the intimacy he was privy to just now. His conscience nudged him, and he held the phone away from his ear, giving them the privacy their closeness deserved.

  Gleason sighed. “It’s Marl
a’s birthday today, and we had a little wine and fooled around, you know. I’ve been gone so much on this damn assignment it feels like we haven’t slept in the same bed in weeks. I’m getting home at dawn, and she’s heading off to work.”

  Shado shook his head. “I don’t see how you handle it, man, you know? How you manage to keep the fire burning.” His question was sincere.

  “It’s work, especially with what we do.” He cleared his throat. “I’m guessing you didn’t call me at eleven-thirty to give you advice on my husbandly prowess, though if you’re in need of a little expert advice, I’m happy to see what I can do for you.”

  Shado bounced back from his contemplation on relationships. “Well, I’ve always liked that about you.”

  “My sexual magnetism?”

  Shado snorted. “Your frickin’ humility.” He’d heard the water running in the bathroom and the familiar squawking as she turned off the faucets. Unable or at least not willing to set aside his thoughts, he imagined her naked body sliding into his old claw foot tub filled with far too many bubbles. Bubble baths were her weakness and fast becoming his. He gave himself a mental shake and focused on why the hell he’d called Gleason. “I had a little visitor this evening, and if I’m guessing right, it was one of Espinoza’s men. He must have followed me home from the tavern.”

  “What makes you think he works for Espinoza? Maybe it was someone looking to do a little light breaking and entering for the holidays.”

  “Possible. But this guy at the bar…I didn’t much care for how he looked at me.”

  “And you feel certain it was the same one?”

  “I don’t generally get a lot of men following me home,” Shado answered drily.

  “Hey, man, a dude looks at you in a bar—you never know these days.”

  “Except he’d likely come to my door and not my fire escape.” He paused, then added, “And by the way, that has never happened. No, judging from his build, it was the same person.”

  “Dammit,” Jack muttered. “That’s not good.”

  “Yeah, I was ready for him. He jimmied the window, but it’s almost like he

  gave up too easily.”

  “Maybe he realized you were home.”

  “Oh, I think he knew I was home.”

  “Do you think he knows about Angel?”

  Shado shook his head in confusion. “I can’t be sure. I don’t think so. She was asleep on the couch when I got home.” That was the truth, and for the moment, all he intended to tell Gleason.

  “Which makes me curious how he followed you home. You didn’t see anyone, stop anywhere?”

  “I did stop, actually, though I couldn’t have been there much longer than it takes to play a game of checkers.”

  “Come again?”

  “Long story short. There was this antique shop,” he began as he stood and peered down the hall. The bathroom light shone beneath the closed door. He’d have given his right arm to be in the tub with her. He walked away and forced his mind back to business. “I saw this dress and went in, thinking it might fit Angel.”

  “In an antique store? Must be quite the find. Did it come with a mothball necklace?”

  He walked to where the ornate dress lay over the chair. The strange old man’s words echoed in his mind. “Not just any woman could wear something so fine.

  But on the right woman, it would be a vision.”

  “It’s an heirloom. One of a kind.”

  “Hmm, for someone whose furnishings come from discount marts, I’m impressed. What’d this guy take you for?”

  He swiped his hand through his hair. “I told you. I won it by playing a game of checkers with the elderly owner by the name of Burt Fesuvius.”

  “Wait a minute. You’re serious? You won an heirloom gown over a game of checkers? If I didn’t know you better, I’d say you’d been dipping into the whiskey a bit too freely, my friend.”

  “It’s true, every word.” He frowned. “Thing is, I’ve been down that block a million times and I swear I never saw the place before,” Shado continued, as baffled as his friend at his seeming stroke of good luck. “He was a nice old guy, who was probably hoping for future business or simply looking for a way to pass the time. Guess he was in a generous mood, probably being so close to Christmas and all, you know.”

  “I’ll say. It’s not every day you hear about someone walking into a store and the clerk says, ‘Hey, I’ll play you a game of checkers for it.’”

  Shado hung on Gleason’s words, seeing the improbability of it. Yet, he couldn’t deny what happened. “Yeah, but that’s pretty much how it went.” He shoved his hand in his front pocket and realized he must have had some change, but when he pulled out a chain with a blood red gem at the end, he discovered something of far greater value—and the situation may have gone from improbable to felonious. He held it up and immediately recognized it as the garnet necklace the silver haired storeowner had shown to him.

  How the heck did it get into his pocket? He was certain—well, nearly—he hadn’t touched it. He studied its old-fashioned elegance, and his eyes darted to the dress. True, the garnet would be stunning lying against Angel’s fair skin, and the dress would make his vision complete. Maybe he’d run down in the morning and ask if he could rent it for the evening.

  “Hey, one other thing. Did you happen to notice anyone else in the shop?”

  He shook his head. “No, the place was crammed with antique stuff everywhere, and he made it a point to let me know it was just the two of us in the store.”

  “He sounds like a weird duck, but probably harmless. Still, keep your eyes open. You want us to put a watch on the place for a few nights?”

  “Nah, I just wanted you to be aware of what was going on at this end.”

  “Yeah?” His friend’s tone implied he knew he wasn’t hearing the full story, and he was right, but Shado wasn’t going to delve into details until he figured out a few more things for himself.

  “Okay, I’ve got a warm bed to get back to. Double check those rickety-ass locks.”

  Shado held the necklace in his palm, weighing it in his hand. For a hermit bachelor, he suddenly found himself surrounded by a great deal that was precious and valuable.

  I’m curious to know how much they’re worth to you—the dress and the

  woman.

  “Talk to you tomorrow.” He hung up the phone and placed the necklace on the skirt of the gown, reminding himself to show Angel in the morning.

  Angel. If he had the power to conjure from thin air a woman who possessed every quality he ever imagined in a partner, a lover—she would come close. Maybe he held because she was perfect. Or was the aging shopkeeper right—was she too good to be true?

  ***

  Angel barely opened one eye, buffering her view with her hand from the brilliant sun glinting off the snowy windowsill. She pushed off the heavy coverlet, following her nose to a pot of freshly brewed coffee waiting in the kitchen. She found her favorite mug and poured a cup of the steaming brew, holding it up to breathe in its rich aroma. What a wonderful device it was, able to brew and keep warm an entire pot of coffee. She leaned against the counter and, glancing at the clock on the radio, realized it was after ten. She stepped into the hallway, noticed Shado’s bedroom door ajar, and debated whether to go wake him. They hadn’t spoken, not since…perhaps for the best. She fought an ache in her chest. Until she knew more about her past, or whether she could return, it was better not to get involved. A note attached to the icebox by a square rubber piece advertising a pizza parlor caught her attention. She walked closer and read it.

  Coffee’s made. Didn’t want to wake you.

  A bittersweet smile played on her lips. He obviously didn’t want to confront her after last night.

  Squad car stationed outside. Captain needed me to come in for an important meeting. See you later. Party starts at seven-thirty. Need to pick up suit from cleaners. Do not answer the door. Stay put. P.S. No leaning out of the window.

 
She studied the note a moment before placing it and her cup on the kitchen table. Unease about being alone after the incident the night before pushed her to the front window. The sky was clear, a bright blue, which gave the sun free reign to bathe the freshly fallen snow in a display of glittering white. The winter beauty lifted her dampened spirits. Shading her eyes to the glare, she saw, as he’d indicated, a black and white car parked not far from the entrance.

  She sighed and turned from the window with the prospect of another day alone and realized it was not fear of the intruder that had managed to turn her inside out, but the very man she lived with. There was no one to protect her from him. Following a routine she’d created to keep from going stir crazy, she made up her bed, tidied the kitchen, and stood in the hall looking at his bedroom door.

  His unemotional response after their lovemaking last night had not affected her as she’d thought it might. Everything she’d given him was issued from a pure intent, a willingness to offer him sanctuary for his loneliness, to be someone he could trust to stay when life became too difficult. There was no humiliation in caring about him. For whatever the reason, their paths had crossed, she’d bared her soul, and had no regrets.

  Deep down, if she had one wish before their lives eventually went their separate ways, it was that he would realize he needed someone like her—and for a chance to be his someone she’d give up her searching and make her home here with him. But for the moment, such a thought seemed as real as the idea she’d traveled through time to find love.

  Angel pushed open the door, eyeing his room and finding it in its usual disarray. Her first thought was to check the window at the fire escape and make sure it was secure. Shado had shown her where he wedged the old broomstick handle along the side so the window couldn’t be opened without breaking the glass. She scanned the area below, checking the alley for any signs of someone lurking about and saw no one. The footprints left behind on the snow-packed fire escape sent a shiver ran through her.

  She pulled down the shade and did a quick sweep to straighten his bedcovers, noting the dress still lay on the chair. Ridiculous as the notion might be, if he insisted on taking her to the dance, she was going to make certain she had his full attention.

 

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