Holiday Bound (14 page)

“Is that what it all comes down to, Alex? That when all is said and done, all I was to you was an embodiment of an insult from your father?”

“I don’t think
you’re
an insult. I think what Mitchell
did
was an insult. But that’s where his involvement in this ends. What’s done is done. The only thing I’m considering at this moment is you and me, Angel, you and me and what happened between us. Between
us
.”

Her heart seemed to forget its purpose for a moment as she stared into his determined face. As usual, his personal charisma, his sheer power when he became single-minded about something overwhelmed her. The realization made her glance away from his compelling visage.

“How do I know you won’t change your mind again?” she asked flatly.

“I never changed my mind to begin with. It’s
true
,” he said when she glanced at him doubtfully. “I was just trying to tell you on Christmas Day that I needed a little more time to myself after my father had left, but you took everything I said wrong. I apologize for not saying it right. I know I hurt you. But I
never meant
for you to get in your car and drive away from me, Angel.”

“You pulled up my car for me. You practically rolled out a red carpet and set up neon arrows pointing down the mountain!”

“I did not,” he exploded. “All I did was go and get your SUV unstuck while you pouted in the bathroom. I needed to do something physical to clear my head. Afterwards, I went out to my shed to return the tools I used to get your vehicle out of the ice, and when I came back, you were gone. It’s
true
, Angeline,” he said staunchly when she opened her mouth to argue.

Someone coughed nearby. Both of them glanced around uncomfortably when they realized how heated their discussion had become.

“You must be lying, Alex,” she said after a moment, her voice shaking with repressed emotion. She wanted to believe him all right, but… “You put the angel in my bag. You must have known I would leave. It was some kind of a…a…guilt gift.”

He moved briskly and Angeline realized he’d whipped his leather glove off his right hand. He pressed his fingertips to her cheek and lifted her jaw so that she met his stare.

“I put the angel in your bag on Christmas Eve. I didn’t want to embarrass you by making a big deal out of it,” he mumbled after a moment. For the first time, Angeline fully sensed his vulnerability. Before she knew that she’d intended it, her palm cradled his jaw, her gesture mirroring his. He closed his eyes briefly and lowered his head.

“You kept acting like I was a fool for making it clear how I felt about you. I thought it’d embarrass you if I just handed it to you.”

A deep feeling of tenderness swept through her. So strange, to experience it for this big, confident, thoroughly dominant man.

“Alex,” she whispered. She hadn’t realized she’d drawn closer to him until he lifted his head and his face hovered just an inch above her own. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for what your father did.”

He gave her a small smile. Angeline couldn’t stop herself from rubbing her leather-covered thumb over his firm lower lip.

“I’m not.”

Her eyebrows went up in surprise. The sound of Alex’s low laughter caused ripples of pleasure to course down her spine. She pressed closer to his long, hard body and went up on her tiptoes so she could press her mouth to his.

A minute later, feeling several degrees warmer from Alex’s kiss, she lowered her heels to the pavement.

“Do you mean it?” she asked dazedly as she fought through a sensual haze to recall what they’d been talking about before they kissed.

His dark brows went up in an ironic expression. He kissed her once on the nose. “You’re not going to make some kind of weird Oedipal interpretation if I say yes I’m glad my dad did it, are you?”

She pressed a finger to her mouth. “My lips are sealed.”

“Hopefully not for long,” Alex murmured, his face full of combined mirth and sexual heat as he stared at her lips. “But yeah. Mitchell may have done it for all the wrong reasons, but I have to admit…he
did
it. He brought us together. He must have seen something on that evening in McAllister’s four years ago…something I didn’t recognize.”

“What?” Angeline whispered, causing the mist from their mouths to merge into a single cloud of vapor.

“That I was too stubborn to go after what I wanted if my father was even remotely involved.”

She smiled and gave him a wry glance before he lowered his head and kissed her long and hot.

“I have to admit something else, Angel,” he said later.

“What?” she asked huskily as she stared up at Alex’s handsome face glowing from the festive lights. Snowflakes began to fall on her eyelashes and cheeks and salted Alex’s dark hair and goatee. He pressed his mouth lightly to her opened lips, caressing her as he spoke.

“After all those Christmases of getting all those meaningless gifts from my dad, he finally had the good grace to get it right.” He kissed her softly before he lifted his head again. “And I have a really good feeling this’ll make up for everything that came before. Angel?”

“Yes?” she whispered, utterly mesmerized by the man who stood before her.

“They’re predicting another snowstorm tonight. I don’t suppose you have someplace nice and warm for a weary traveler to rest, do you?”

“Oh, yes. The warmest, nicest place you can imagine.”

She grabbed his hand and led him through the falling snow and holiday crowd to Dearborn Avenue.

Tara Walsh has come a long way from paying her dues in a smoky New Orleans club. Her albums sell millions, her tours sell out and she has a hit DVD. Her name is known around the world. Now she’s back home for a holiday charity concert—and to say a proper goodbye to the past. A past named Duncan Rousse.

Five years ago, Duncan pushed Tara away for one reason: to force her to reach for the stars. She deserves the life she’s earned, even though it left him with a broken heart that’s never healed. Having her back in his arms only makes the pain worse, yet the last thing he can do is beg her to stay.

One wild, passion-filled night in the sexy Cajun’s bed has Tara’s body singing with pleasure. But can they both get what they want this Christmas?

Warning, this title contains the following: explicit sex, second chances, making up for lost time with a sexy Cajun, and Christmas wishes that might really come true.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
My Christmas Wish:

She pushed the thought aside. Better to think about what they sounded like saying hello.

Dragging her gaze back to his, she thought she saw the glow of hunger there. “I stayed away too long, Duncan. It’s good to be back.”

“We were starting to wonder if you’d left us behind forever.” His voice was as warm as her memories.

“It was hard to leave.” She held his gaze and saw the faint flinch as he recalled how she’d left. “It was harder to come back.”

He nodded slowly, accepting with that simple gesture both her leaving and his role in it. For a minute there was only the sound of the music and the feverish noise of the crowd on the dance floor surrounding them.

Memories of how it felt to be held in his strong arms filled the lull. Dangerous memories that she’d relived a thousand times in her dreams. How many times had they danced on that floor, his arms pulling her tight while she thought she’d found her home at last? She’d begun to believe in love and dream of happily-ever-after. Then her dreams had turned into nightmares and left her the way she’d been since she was eight years old. Alone.

You couldn’t change what had already been, and wishing for things to be different wasn’t going to make them so. With a mental shrug, Tara put the past where it belonged—away.

“The club looks like it’s doing good business. I was in Miami a few months ago and your new club there had a line out the door that stretched three blocks. You’ve done well with them.”

“
Mais
, we were lucky after the storms. The Brick Lady held up well to Katrina, better than many of the other buildings in the Quarter. We had to replace some of the tanks in the brewpub and we had to strip the first floor walls down to the studs. Some of the locals think the ghosts held off the worst of the flood waters and protected what they consider theirs.” He chuckled.

“Stranger things have happened in the French Quarter.” She let the smile that had always come naturally to her lips show, relaxing as the old feeling of intimacy came back. With Duncan it had always been this way, ever since the moment they’d met. When he was around, the rest of the world faded into the background until it was just the two of them. Nothing and no one else mattered.

Not even a stepmother driving a wedge between her beloved stepson and the young woman who had dared to make a place for herself in Duncan’s world.

“How’s Marie? Is she here tonight?” Tara tensed as she glanced over his shoulder, almost expecting to find the older woman staring her down from across the room.

“She doesn’t come down here much anymore,” Duncan stated grimly.

“No? Have you moved back home then?”

“Not bloody likely—I still live up over the club when I’m here in New Orleans.” He gestured vaguely towards the back hall, where she knew steps led to his private rooms above. “Marie learned she’s happier sticking with her Garden Society friends than poking her nose into this part of the family business. And she’s busy these days trying to find a wife for Stephen before he marries himself to the corporation.”

Duncan’s older brother had always had a head for business. It wasn’t a surprise to hear he had taken a larger role with the family firm. Tara relaxed again, reassured that the dragon lady wasn’t going to be bearing down on them tonight.

“Are you home to stay?”

“Just until after the show.” Two short nights. Tonight and Christmas Eve, the night of the performance. The clock was already ticking.

“So you head back to la-la land on Christmas Day?” Was that disappointment in his voice, or was she only wishing it was there?

“I’ve got a six am flight back to LA—I’ll be on the West Coast in time for brunch.” Los Angeles couldn’t have seemed further away than it did right now. And without anyone special to spend it with, Christmas would be just like any other day. An hour or two in the gym, another afternoon in the dance studio, some time working on songs for the album she was due to start recording in late January. Another holiday alone. Yet another thought she tried to push out of her mind.

“Have a drink with me,
chère
.” She wasn’t sure if he was pushed towards her from behind by the crowd or if he’d stepped closer. She didn’t care as his body was right where she most wanted it to be, pressed tightly to hers. Chest to chest, thigh to thigh, the heat that rose from his skin spread across her own and brought an ache of longing that throbbed through her veins.

Then he was bumped from behind, pushed suddenly forward by an overexcited patron making a move to the bar. As his arms tightened around her waist to steady her, she felt his pelvis forced against the gentle mound of her belly. Feeling his warm body pressed against her own brought a damp weakness to her core. Gut-wrenching, mind-shattering need claimed her body and left her quivering in his embrace.

“Yes.” The word slipped out. His throat was mere inches from her lips, and the familiar smell of him filled the air she breathed. Surrounded with scents of evergreen and spice, her mouth flooded with the remembered taste of his skin beneath her tongue. The urge to lick her way up the firm column of his neck possessed her.

She tilted her head back instead. His eyes were narrowed, the hot fire in their depths mirrored by the dark flush rising on his cheeks. Hard hands clenched on her hips with demanding strength, feeding the hunger that had sparked to life when he’d first said her name.

Before she could fight it his lips were on hers, devouring, possessing, sweeping away her ability to think. With the touch of his mouth all the need of five long years roared to life. The taste of him, the scent of his skin, filled her senses, left her gasping for more. She was lost, drowning in the heat of his embrace. Her heart leaped, blood pounding furiously as her body molded itself to his warmth.

She cried out softly when their lips were torn apart. The low sound was swallowed by the crowd as their bodies were separated by the jostling of the people surrounding them. Her eyes flew open

Her heart was more vulnerable than she’d ever believed.

Maybe coming to see Duncan wasn’t the smartest decision she’d ever made.