Christmas Angel (17 page)

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Authors: Amanda McIntyre

BOOK: Christmas Angel
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It appeared to be a gown of sorts—a very fancy gown. Mesmerized by its delicate beauty, temptation prompted her curiosity, and she lifted the dress by its shoulders, her breath catching as the skirt unfolded and draped in a shimmery cream-colored river over her lap. It was exquisite. Angel stood and held it against her, smoothing out the residual wrinkles. It was her size, the style she imagined skimming over her curves, but why? Why would he have bought her such an exquisite gift? Unless it wasn’t meant for her. She pressed her lips together, considering that it was meant for someone else—perhaps the woman in the photograph?

She searched the box, inside and out, looking for a label, something to identify to whom it belonged, finding a small tag labeled Timeless Passions. What kind of man would be so cruel as to leave such a present in plain sight of another woman? The best thing to do was to return the gown to the box and wait until he woke to ask him about it. Pride, however, moved her to the toss it over her arm and march down the hall. She paused briefly, took a breath, and let herself in.

“Are you asleep?” she whispered, easing open the door.

The light from the living room filtered past her, offering a dim view of Shado lying on his back, his arm thrown over his forehead.

“Not quite.” He sounded groggy.

She stood at his bedside and bit back the desire to ask him where he’d gone, why he smelled like a saloon on a Saturday night, and oh, yes, there was the matter of the dress.

“I see you found the box.”

“I did. It’s quite beautiful.”

“One of a kind,” he replied leaning up on his elbow to look at her. “Do you like it?”

She held the dress up in the shadowy light. “What woman wouldn’t?” She

placed it with great care over a chair and sat down on the edge of the bed. “We need to talk about what happened.”

He nodded. “I know. There’s a lot we need to talk about, but the truth is I’ve been fighting with myself all day over what’s right and wrong and debating what I need and what I want.” He sat up and faced her.

“And what conclusions did you come to?” she asked. The scent of his skin radiated heat to her senses, causing her pulse to quicken.

“That I don’t want to think anymore tonight.” He leaned toward her, nuzzling the curve of her neck. She’d intended to ask him if he’d bought the present for her or the woman in the photograph, but her mind dissolved to ash at his touch. His hand seared her thigh. She wanted to tell him she’d come to terms with the fact he was committed to another—the mother to his child—but the idea grew less important with each passing moment.

His mouth drifted over her cheek, hovering near her lips, waiting, gauging her reaction. She had the power to get up and walk away, to end this before placing her heart at risk, but when her lips brushed his, she knew it was too late. His mouth captured hers in a series of fiery kisses as he pulled her down on the bed, unleashing a passion both thrilling and frightening. The weight of him covering her body was more than glorious, more than right. Succumbing to his exploration, she turned her head, allowing him to leave a trail of heated kisses down the curve of her throat. His fingers tugged aside her shirt, searching for more flesh to sample. Her body responded in a rush of euphoric splendor, and as she floated in a dreamlike state, the words pressing her mind slipped from her mouth. “Is the dress for me?”

His seduction halted as he propped up on his elbow and looked down at her. “Yes, of course.” A curious smile quirked his lips. “I thought maybe you might like to get out of here for a few hours, and the Policeman’s Ball is coming up.”

“And you want to take
me
?”

“Well, to be honest, it was Gleason’s idea. He thought I might be driving you crazy.”

“Detective Gleason is a wise man,” she teased and drew him into a kiss that left no question of what she wanted—what she needed. She felt safe, free from the concerns plaguing her mind, free of the fear. In his embrace, time stood still. Nothing could touch them. The taste of whiskey on his tongue gave her pause of whether he was fully aware of his actions, but need won out over logic as he lifted her shirt and drove her to a frenzy with teeth and tongue. She braced herself against his muscled shoulders, relishing their sheer strength, how they bunched and moved beneath her fingers. Her body was on fire, needing more—needing him. “Shado.” She lifted her hips to his, sensing his hard length. “I need you.”

Without warning, he clamped his hand over her mouth and lay still on top of her. “Be still.”

Frozen, she lay beneath him. His eyes were fixed on the window leading to the alley. The same one he’d come through so effortlessly during the snowball fight.

She opened her mouth to speak, but he pressed tighter, leaned down, and whispered, “Don’t speak. Move with me…slowly.”

He slid carefully to the edge of the bed, dropped silently to the floor, and then pulled her down beside him. Pressing a finger to his lips, he crept around the end of the bed, staying low. She peered over the edge of the mattress, stifling a quiet gasp as she noted the shadowy figure on the fire escape. Fear bubbled inside her, and she held her breath. A brief rattle of the window startled her, but thankfully it was stuck. After what seemed an eternity, the shadowy figure disappeared. Her hands were shaking. Fear gripped her throat. She remembered being afraid like this once. It nearly paralyzed her, but she somehow managed to survive.

In the next instant, Shado appeared at her side, drawing her close. “It’s okay,” he stated softly. “He’s gone.”

Angel fought to control her fear. “Who…was it?”

His thumb brushed over her cheek, and she realized he wiped away a tear. “I’m sorry to have frightened you, but I didn’t want to scare him and risk he’d do something to put us both in danger.”

“Who do you think it was?”

He sighed. “Probably one of Espinoza’s men. I can’t be sure though.” He searched her face. “More importantly, are you okay?” He had a strange look, as though he was about to be sick.

“I’m okay…a little frightened.”

“You’re trembling.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“I thought this was a good idea, assumed you’d be safe here, but I was wrong. You shouldn’t be here.” He shook his head and looked away, lost, it seemed, in his own dilemma.

She searched his profile. “If you feel I should leave, that my presence is putting you in danger, I will. But if this is about my safety, then I believe I’m in the best place I could be, with you.”

“No, it’s not you, Angel. It’s me. You don’t understand.”

“Then help me. Stop pushing me away.”

He stood and pointed at the window. “Look what just happened. I can’t ever get away from my work. It’s my life and now it’s following me home. My job endangers not only me, that I could handle, but it puts everyone around me at risk, and…
that
I can’t handle. You deserve better than living in fear of what loony tune is going to sneak in a window.” He sat on the edge of the bed and folded his hands over his knees.

She rose to her feet. “Deserve? Is that how you plan to get around this?”

He shook his head. “What are you talking about?”

“Why don’t you tell me the truth?”

He shot her an irritated look. “The truth? I
am
being honest as I can. Weren’t you listening? Being with me has put you in danger. I don’t have a normal life, Angel. There’s good reason why I’m alone.” He snorted and shook his head in disbelief.

“Is that what made your wife take your son and leave?” she snapped. Angel hadn’t intended to resort to cruelty for answers, but if they were being honest, she needed to know.

“My…what?” He seemed confused. All she needed to do was reach out and touch him, to wipe the sadness from his face. “Did you say…
wife
?”

Restless to get things out in the open, she planted her hands on her hips and leaned toward him. “I mean the woman and little boy in the photograph, the one you don’t seem to want to talk about.”

Confusion and pain contorted his expression. “She’s not
my
wife. She’s my brother’s wife. The little boy is Danny Jr. My brother’s
son
.”

“Your nephew.” Angel sat down beside him. Of course, now it made sense, except for why he should have such an unusual sense of personal responsibility for them. “Where is your brother now?”

“Dead.” He turned away. “Please don’t ask any more questions.”

Her heart stopped. She reached out to touch his shoulder, but he jerked away from her.

“Don’t.” He shook his head. “Just…don’t.”

“I want to understand.” He was there, on the verge of whatever darkness he clung to that was responsible in part for not allowing him to have any sort of personal happiness. “I want to help you, like you’ve helped me.”

He looked at the ceiling, his eyes closed. “You can’t help, Angel. I don’t need anyone’s help.” He dropped his gaze to hers.

Her eyes welled, but she looked away, refusing to let his stubborn hide see her cry. She waited, but when he didn’t continue, she stood with a sigh. She’d let him wallow in his bitterness, but she didn’t have to take the brunt of it. “Fine. When you’re ready to talk, I’ll be in the other room.”

He caught her arm as she turned to leave. “I’m sorry.” He studied her.

She shrugged. “No need to be, you prefer your life alone. It’s who you are.” She tugged gently away, but he held tight.

“It’s not who I am. It’s who I’ve become.”

“You have a choice, Shado. Everyone has a choice.”

He looked up at her, the desire to respond—perhaps open up to her—but a breath away. “I don’t want you to leave.”

Her mouth lifted and she tried to smile. “But you don’t want me too close.”

“Not true. It’s…complicated. There’s stuff you don’t know about me.”

“So you keep telling me.” Angel dropped her hand over his. It was true, he had his secrets, but didn’t she also? She knelt in front of him. “Shado, there are things you don’t know about me, too.”

Was she deserving of a man like him? If, in fact, the impossible were true, and somehow she was the woman listed among those who had lived and worked at the Sweet Magnolia—then how many men had she slept with? Surely, though, if any had touched her heart half as much as Shado, she’d remember. “I don’t have all the answers, but I know I feel something for you.” Angel searched his steady blue eyes, the color of an afternoon desert sky. The soft sound of a piano filtered through the haze in her mind, and she envisioned herself leaning atop it watching as a woman with beautiful deep auburn hair played a melody both sad and sweet.

She blinked away the image and met Shado’s puzzled expression.

“What is it? You remembered something.”

She slowly shook her head, not able to accept how readily the pieces of her puzzled past seem to be falling into place. “Just a piano and a woman.” What would happen when she suddenly remembered everything? Could she go back? Would she want to, and most important—would she have a choice? Something close to fear snaked up her spine prompting her to lean forward and brush her lips to his, letting them linger in the hope he wouldn’t push her away again. His fingers touched her face, searching, holding her close, before he brought his mouth to hers in a soul-searing kiss.

 

Chapter Eight

 

God, how he wanted to forget. Three years of tormented sleep, the images of his brother’s lifeless body lying in the dark alley. Her arms curled around his neck, deepening the fiery kiss, her sensual touch freeing his desire. It wasn’t fair to her, but she felt so damn good, so soft, willing, and sweet. He needed her, needed her warmth, needed the life she’d brought to his cold, dead heart. Fearful he might awaken from this dream, he captured her mouth, pulling her to his lap and held her close. She leaned back and lifted her shirt over her head, watching as he cradled her breasts in his palms, weighing, caressing, and teasing. His body grew hard, wanting to sink deep into her and claim her as his own. His heart throbbed against his chest as he looked up at her.

“Too many clothes.” She trailed her fingertip over his lower lip and stood, peeling down a pair of his boxers. God Almighty, Victoria’s Secret had nothing on the woman in his Hanes.

“Your turn.” She drew him to his feet and unsnapped his waistband, moving close, standing on tiptoe to touch his lips. Her delicate fingers eased over his crotch, and he sucked in his breath, fighting for control.

He grabbed her shoulders, reclaiming her mouth in a frenzy of carnal exploration. “This is insane,” he whispered against her temple. She pushed his pants low on his hips, freeing him, sliding her palm over his cock. Taking his face, she kissed him, maneuvering him to sit on the edge of the mattress. Nudging between his knees, she teased, gently caressing until he thought his eyes would roll back into his head. Threading his hand through her hair, he swallowed hard, watching her attentive pleasuring. He gripped the bedcovers, twisting them in his fist, hanging onto his last thread of sanity until he could take no more. He pulled her to the bed, stood, and shoved his jeans to his ankles, kicking at them furiously. She lay back, her blonde hair spilling around her head, teasing him with her smile. With final kick, he sent the pants across the room and knelt over her, kissing her, relishing the softness of her skin. She held his gaze and wrapped her legs around his waist, moving her hips to welcome him. There was no need for words. He remembered how perfect they fit, how tight, the sounds coming soft from her throat.

The shrill ring of the phone jarred him and for an instant, stunned him that anyone should be calling at this hour. Need pulled him toward her, duty caused his to surrender to reality. Again, the shrill ring demanded his attention. “Fuck,” he mumbled and pushed his feet to the floor. He plunged his hand through his hair and reached over to snatch the receiver off the hook. His erection, hard and painful, made it damn difficult to get comfortable. “Jackson,” he growled.

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 Marla’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?”

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