He’d never felt so physically satisfied, but as he came down from the rush, his heart felt like lead.
This would be the first and last time he would ever be with Holly Tucket. And in spite of the lies and deception, he missed her already.
Chapter 9
Holly slumped bonelessly over him, legs still wrapped around his hips, as Alex patted her bottom. She let her legs fall away until her feet touched the ground. The tiny kitchen was filled with the sounds of their labored breathing and unspoken questions.
His voice was gruff as he released her. “I’ll be right back. I’m going to clean up. You can use the hall bathroom.”
She waited for him to leave the room before grabbing the edge of the table for support as she caught her breath. Her legs were still shaking.
As she tried to get her head around what just happened, the shrill ring of a telephone interrupted her reverie. It rang a second time and then stopped. She scooped up the boxers she’d been wearing and headed into the bathroom.
What the hell had just happened? She hadn’t taught him that.
Come to think of it, she hadn’t taught him anything.
As she washed up, the sensual fog that had clouded her mind began to clear, leaving behind a sinking feeling. The confident, take control, almost animal-like quality of their lovemaking this last time seemed like such a comfortable, natural fit for him. Could that really have been the first time he’d behaved that way with a woman?
Surely not.
She closed her eyes as a wave of nausea swamped her. Time to get to the bottom of this. Somehow, going out there exposed felt different than it had just a few minutes before, so she donned the boxers again. She buttoned the shirt as best she could and then tied it at the waist to compensate for the missing buttons. At least she wasn’t naked.
When she entered the bedroom, it was empty but a low voice came from behind the closed door of the master bathroom.
She knew she shouldn’t do it. It was a total invasion of his privacy, but the compulsion was too strong.
She scurried into the kitchen and poured tap water into a shallow bowl. Taking a deep breath, she dipped her finger into the bowl and stirred.
Alex’s bathroom.
An image began to take shape on the surface of the water, and soon, Alex’s form came into view. He was standing next to the sink, talking in low tones on a cell phone.
“Yes, Alex Nichols returning his call.”
Nichols? Hadn’t Mila said his name was Nelson? Maybe she’d heard it wrong.
He stood quiet for a few seconds, apparently waiting for the other party to come on the line.
“Hey, Mike, sorry I missed your call. Tell me something good, man.” He paused and then blew out a sigh of relief before running a hand through his dark hair. “Ah, fuck, you’re not kidding. It’s been a long haul. But that’s great news. I can’t wait to get my life back. Hey, I really appreciate the department’s support on this one. I hope we got you enough to put him away for a good long time.”
An icy ball of dread formed in her stomach and she splashed at the water with her fingertips, dispersing the image. Something was definitely amiss. Heart stuttering, she ran back into the bedroom.
Methodically, she opened drawers and rifled through his closets but nothing helpful surfaced.
Her eyes lighted on his pants from the night before and she made a beeline for them. She’d just shoved a hand in one pocket and pulled out his wallet when the bathroom door opened.
“What are you doing?”
His voice was frosty, but even that seemed warm compared to the cold gleam in his eye.
Whatever. She was the one who’d been lied to. Who was he to be doling out the dirty looks?
“What have you been doing, is the question.”
“Don’t deflect. This is about you, Holly Tucket.” He practically spat her name and she flinched. “What, the guys didn’t pay you enough to cover all that overtime so you thought you’d just help yourself?”
What the hell was he talking about? “You sound like a crazy person right now. I was looking through your stuff because I wanted to find out who you really are. So if we’re trading secrets or something, why don’t we start with you, Mr. Nichols.”
He had the good grace to look ashamed, but only for a second. “What tipped you off? No, don’t answer, it doesn’t matter. None of it does anymore, the job is over. I was coming out to tell you anyway.”
She tried to swallow past the stone lodged in her throat. “What job?”
“I’m not Alex Nelson, lab assistant. I’m Alex Nichols, securities specialist. I’ve been undercover for the last four months working for a pharmaceutical company gathering evidence on some key players in a large-scale narcotics smuggling operation.”
“So this has all been a lie? The geeky persona, the inexperienced lover, all fake?” She cursed herself as emotion clogged her throat.
She had to get out of there. Leave this place before she humiliated herself even more than she had already had.
How could she have been so stupid?
Chapter 10
“How could you let me—” She blanched, her body seeming to curl into itself. “Why would you lie to me like that?”
The guilt that had begun to surface gave way to outrage. Was she serious right now?
“That’s rich, coming from you,” he retorted.
“Wha—what is that supposed to mean?”
“The jig is up. It’s always been up. You may talk like an innocent, but I know you’re a stripper or an escort, and I know about Saunders and Leeland.”
She looked at him like he’d lost his mind as her mouth opened and closed wordlessly.
“The guys who hired you for the practical joke,” he pressed. She paled, but there was still no recognition in those stricken green eyes. Only hurt.
And tears. Fucking tears.
Dammit.
The white-hot anger that had flared only moments before dimmed to a burning coal and he scrubbed a hand over his face. What was he hoping to accomplish here? Finding somewhere to lay blame? They’d both lied. They’d both been wrong. And maybe he wasn’t the only one with feelings here. Because, judging by her reaction, she definitely cared.
At least a little.
He started again, in a more gentle tone. “I don’t even care what you do for a living. I really liked being with you. And unless you’re an Oscar-winnng actress and had me completely hoodwinked, you liked being with me too. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. But my job—”
She cut in, eyes flashing, her tone sharp enough to draw blood. “Your job has nothing to do with this. I understand confidentiality, believe me. But you pretended…” She paused and swallowed hard. “You pretended that you didn’t know…things. You let me humiliate myself by showing you.”
She covered her mouth with a trembling hand and squeezed her eyes shut. A few seconds ticked by before she opened them again, pinning him with her gaze. “You could have stopped me and sent me home. You could have said no if you didn’t believe in me; if you didn’t need me.”
Alex’s stomach lurched. He opened his mouth to interject, but she held up a hand.
“No! No, don’t you talk. Every word out of your mouth has been a lie. I opened myself to you in a way I never thought possible. I broke all the rules for you because I thought you were worth it. I thought this was worth it. But you’re not. And it’s not.”
“How is this on me?” he shouted, his emotions too raw to think anymore. “You were paid to trick me. And God only knows what else. I was willing to look past it because I thought we had a real connection. But even now, you won’t come clean, and you’re going to judge me? I’m the good guy here.”
The words sounded hollow, even to himself.
She gave him one last look, shook her head, and then walked out the door.
Chapter 11
By the time Alex finished all the damn paperwork and got to leave the station, it was well after midnight and all the
non-essential staff had long since gone for a little holiday cheer with family.
It was officially Christmas Eve, and he had nothing to look forward to but a glass of scotch. He opened the door to the apartment and started in but the scent of pecan pie stopped him short.
“Holly?” For a split second hope sparked in his chest. It faded quickly as he looked around.
He rewound the mental reel of their goodbye and flinched as he recalled the look on her face. Disgust, despair, disappointment. She wouldn’t have come back. Her scent lingered behind, a poignant affirmation of what a tool he was.
He shut the door behind him and went into the kitchen. Taking out a bottle of scotch, he poured himself a neat double and took a long pull. The amber liquid slid a warm path down his throat but did nothing to melt the block of ice lodged in his chest.
Looking around the apartment, he waited for the feeling of accomplishment and elation to wash over him the way it always did after a job well done; for the excitement of being able to resume his real life to creep in and give him the energy, despite his exhaustion, to pack up and get the hell out.
Instead, he found himself wondering what he’d been so anxious to get back to in the first place. His house was no great shakes, he had no wife or kids to welcome him home. Shit, he didn’t even have a dog.
Before yesterday, this place had been nothing but a prison. But in twenty hours, Holly Tucket had permeated every corner. Not only did it smell like her, he couldn’t even look at the table without seeing her glorious hair—and even more glorious thighs—spread across it.
The bedroom would be even worse. Alex considered sleeping on the couch, but then realized he wanted to think about her, wanted to picture her. Because once he left here that would be it. Even on the off chance she did want to see him again, she wouldn’t be able to find him. And he’d never see, smell or taste her again.
His stomach clenched at that. God, he was an asshole. She’d been nothing but giving and amazing. Sure, she’d told some fibs, but she’d had a job to do just like him. And what had he done? Thrown it in her face. And there wasn’t a thing he could do but regret it.
He yanked off his coat and then whipped out his phone and punched out a number. Strickland had just left on a holiday vacation to see family, and he’d left Leeland two messages already. The call went straight to voicemail and he didn’t bother leaving a third. He tossed the phone aside with a growl.
Maybe he’d stay one more night. He could clear out in the morning and be back to his own place, in his own life by lunchtime.
Yippee.
Alex rubbed his eyes and took another swallow of scotch as he headed into the living room, intent on watching a movie until he fell asleep so he wouldn’t have to think.
He was about to sit when a beige piece of cloth sticking out from under the couch caught his eye. He put down his drink and bent to tug on it. As he pulled, out came Holly’s trench coat.
He took a steadying breath and then slid a hand into one deep pocket. His fingers brushed against something and he pulled it out. It was the stack of notecards she’d been reading from.
He rifled through them quickly, and one of the cards stood out from the rest, in bold, red print.
NO MATTER WHAT, DO NOT ALLOW YOURSELF TO GET EMOTIONALLY ATTACHED TO YOUR CHARGE.
He put the cards back in the one pocket then dug his hand into the other, looking for what, he couldn’t say. Maybe a phone number. Or a business card so he could contact her directly.
He was about to give up when his hand brushed something warm. What he pulled out was puzzling. An intricate, gold writing utensil that looked like it was worth a fortune.
But there was something even stranger about it.
While it looked like an antique, it had a glow. The pristine sheen of something that had never been touched before. And the heat of it—not hot exactly, but far too warm to the touch for a metal object that had been sitting in a pocket under his couch—made it feel almost alive.
A buzzing filled his head as he stared at the pen, his stomach flopping as he lifted his thumb to depress the button on the back.
He held his breath. Time seemed suspended as he waited for…something magical to happen.
When nothing did, he let out his breath in a rush.
What an idiot. After one night you’re so whipped, the girl has you actually entertaining the idea that she’s a fucking fairy, for god’s sake.
“Sorry I took so long, I was in the middle of— What the hell are you doing?”
The pen fell from Alex’s hand as he stared, blinked, and then stared some more. A beautiful woman with sleek black hair stood before him, her cold, blue eyes narrowed in suspicion.
“Where is she? If you’ve harmed her, it will not go well for you, Charge.” She kept her voice low and even, but the frank sincerity with which she delivered the threat was positively chilling.
“How did you get in here? And who the fuck are you?” This was surreal. Déjà vu. Hadn’t he said almost the very same thing to Holly?
Alex moved a hand to his arm and gave it a surreptitious pinch. Not dreaming.
“I’m Mila. And I’m here because you called me, you imbecile. Now answer the question. Where is Holly?” She uttered the last through clenched teeth and Alex had the distinct feeling he was walking on very thin ice.
“I don’t know. I was looking for a way to find her so I went through her coat and found the pen. Do you work for the agency? You need to help me.”
She raised an imperious brow at him. “What agency?”
“The agency that books the strippers.”
Her hand flashed quick as a striking snake and a white bolt of light shot forward, nailing him square in the chest, knocking him on his ass.
Holy. Shit.
He sat, stunned, as he tried to get his breath back from his second apparent fairy attack in twenty-four hours.
Most of him was in shock. But then another, tiny little part had always known, somewhere deep down, that Holly was exactly what she said she was. She didn’t have it in her to deceive someone like that. How he could know that about someone after only one day didn’t concern him. It was a fact.
One he realized too late.
”Watch what you say and mind your tone. I don’t know what happened here, but I’m certainly not going to be listening to insults or taking orders from a charge. And if Holly wanted to be found, you’d be able to find her.” She held out a hand. “Now give me the pen.”
“No can do.”
Her eyes turned almost black as her pupils dilated. “You can and you will.”
Alex almost blanched at her palpable fury. She clearly didn’t appreciate being toyed with. But if he let her take the pen and go, he knew without a doubt there was no chance of ever finding Holly again.
He steeled himself and pressed on. “Just hear me out. I lied about who and what I was. But I want to make it up to her. I have feelings for her. I know that seems crazy after only one night, but it’s the truth. I need to tell her how sorry I am. Please.”
He wasn’t the begging type, but at that moment, he would have done anything for a chance to talk to Holly one more time.
Bowing his head, he waited for this woman, this fairy, to turn him into a frog or something. Couldn’t hurt worse than getting shot, he reasoned.
Instead, she let out a sigh. “She can’t make you into a magical being, you know. And if you’re thinking of turning her into some kind of money-making sideshow, you can forget it. The second you tell another human about her powers your memory will be wiped clean of her existence.”
A kernel of hope started to take shape within him. No point in giving him all these warnings if she was going to refuse to help him outright. “The thought never even occurred to me.”
“And she isn’t immortal. In fact, she’s doesn’t even have much magic. She’s still a low-level fairy. Parlor tricks mostly. Coming, going, maybe whipping up a soufflé, but that’s the extent of it.”
“All right.”
She tipped her regal head, studying him with the intensity one would give a detailed map. “And still, you wish to find her?”
He met her gaze and answered without hesitation. “Absofuckinglutely.”
“I’m not going to do it for you. It’s not my place. But I’ll tell you how it could be done, theoretically. It’s up to you to pull it off.”
Even the warning note in her voice didn’t diminish the relief that coursed through him.
He was going to get one more chance with Holly Tucket.
Who was, indeed, a fairy.
And this time, he wasn’t going to blow it.
Five days back on the job, and Holly was starting to wonder when it was going to get awesome again. She loved it so much, and the kids were wonderful. But since her disastrous run as a Naughty Godmother, it seemed like everything had gone to heck in a hand-basket.
After she’d left Alex’s apartment, she went home to cry it out until Mila had summoned her. Holly had tearfully explained the whole story and Mila had been reserved but sympathetic. Since Holly had broken the rules, she wouldn’t be able to graduate to a NGM. She would, however, be permitted to return to her old job.
As miserable as Holly been after what had happened with Alex, she’d jumped up and hugged Mila at the news.
“I told Lucienne you weren’t cut out for Naughty Godmother in the first place, but she insisted you try,” Mila had said, carefully extracting herself from Holly’s exuberant grasp.
“Do you think she’s going to be disappointed?”
Mila’s eyes flashed. “She’ll be…as you would expect. I’m sorry, Holly, I know your mother isn’t an easy person to deal with.”
Holly tried to ignore the crushing disappointment. Why had she ever thought it might be different this time? That her mother might be proud of her for trying? “I wouldn’t know,” she said quietly.
Alphas for the Holidays Page 39