Holiday Bound (3 page)

“Don’t you fucking
dare
.”

Mitchell chuckled and addressed Alex’s friends. “My son. I taught him everything I know about manners, but you’d still think he was raised by savages.”

His friends laughed, a few of them uneasily when they glanced at Alex and noticed his rigid features and tense posture. Alex had been raised by his mother and her parents in a warm, loving home in Minnesota. His grandfather was part Dakota Indian, and had passed on his love of the land and the outdoors to his grandson. His father’s underhanded dig was both a jab at his upbringing and a subtle racial slur, as well.

“I suppose that means she’s in
your
league, then.” Alex grated out, still without turning around…his eyes still glued to the woman with the gleaming dark hair and the alabaster skin at the bar. Something about the sight of her acted like a balm to his simmering anger toward his father. He was afraid if he turned around and saw Mitchell’s smug face, he’d haul back and clobber it.

For a few seconds of silence, he wondered if Mitchell had heard him in the noisy bar or had already left.

“Even if she was, she’s not my type.” Mitchell said pensively, and Alex sensed his father had joined him in eyeing the stunning brunette. A couple of Alex’s friends made sounds of disbelief. “I’m serious,” his father assured them. “I like them petite…feminine.”

Alex snorted loudly. He couldn’t recall ever having seen a more feminine creature in his life than the woman at the bar. His father covered Alex’s rudeness with his typical glib charm.

“We’ll leave it to my He-Man son here to tame an Amazon, eh?” His friends laughed like yapping puppies at his father’s joke. Alex said nothing when his father clapped him on the back and walked away.

Resentment burned him from the inside out.

His father had balls, acting like the down and dirty argument they’d had the night before had never occurred. It had started typically enough with Mitchell’s digs at Alex’s career, but had quickly escalated to Alex accusing Mitchell of possessing a half-assed parental attitude for the things that
really
counted.

Like being there for his kid, for instance.

Mitchell’s idea of being a dad involved sending Alex expensive, unwanted gifts on his birthday and Christmas and preaching about becoming a success.

The whole argument had exploded when Alex had ripped into his father—not for the first time—for continually flirting with and leading on his mother, only to ignore her for years at a time. It was a cycle Alex had become far too familiar with during his childhood.

As Alex sat there in that noisy bar, he was in the early stages of starting to accept that Mitchell Carradine was as much a father now as he ever would be to him.

A half-hour later, an attorney friend had joined them at McAllister’s. He’d noticed where Alex’s stare had been directed and gave him some unwelcome—but not necessarily surprising—information.

“Her name’s Angeline Kastakis. She’s a new associate at your father’s firm. Maybe he could introduce you?”

But the memory of his father’s low, insulting tone still burned inside Alex’s chest, and he’d decided he wouldn’t pursue Angeline Kastakis.

Alex preferred to stay out of his father’s line of sight. He already regretted his decision to work in the Loop, near his father’s firm. The last thing he wanted was to date a woman who worked in Mitchell’s office.

No matter how incredible that woman was.

He refused even to acknowledge the niggling voice that whispered deep inside of his brain, the one that hissed at him as he watched Angeline put on her coat and walk out of the bar.

She’s way out of your league, son.

Now here it was, four years later, and that same woman was here in his house, even more appealing to him than she had been that evening at McAllister’s. It had felt like he’d swallowed liquid lead when he realized who she was out there in his garage.

Damn Mitchell. Damn
her
for being taken in by his father. It had irritated him more than it should have, the idea that she found slick Mitch attractive.

“Why wouldn’t she?” Alex muttered irritably before he stuck his face into the cool water. Every other female who met his dad had fallen for him…including his mother. The knowledge that his mom would probably return to Mitchell Carradine if he twitched his forefinger—despite everything she knew about him—angered Alex so much that, out of habit, he pushed the incendiary thought from his mind.

But the image of Angeline standing there in the firelight just minutes ago, her big, dark eyes on his chest, her pink lips slightly parted, the lush curves of her body calling out to him to touch…to possess…

That image couldn’t be banned from his brain so easily.

Her full breasts looked so firm and inviting beneath the soft ivory sweater she wore—everything about Angeline was soft and feminine. And then her nipples had tightened beneath his stare…

His cock jerked in arousal and he uttered a curse. Without thinking, he fisted and stroked it, trying to quiet his ravenous hunger for his father’s girlfriend. His hand on his cock only made the fantasy more graphic—lifting Angeline’s soft sweater, baring her generous breasts to his gaze and to his seeking lips. He was large, but she’d fill his hands with ripe, firm, warm flesh.

He just knew she would.

The realization struck him that he was pumping his fully erect cock fast and furiously as he imagined the satiny sensation of Angeline’s breasts sliding against his lips. He growled in irritation and twisted the shower handle to its most frigid setting. He shoved back the shower curtain a minute later, shivering with cold, but his cock tamed.

For the time being, anyway, Alex thought grimly.

He picked up the razor he’d placed on the sink and scowled. He’d planned to shave earlier to make himself more presentable to his father and his date. It’d been four years since Mitchell and he had had that huge, drag-out fight, after all. They’d bickered since then about everything from Alex selling his seat at the Chicago Board of Trade to where Alex should spend the holidays, but those were just mild skirmishes compared to the battle that had raged four years ago.

Estranged was much too pale of a term to describe his and Mitchell’s relationship.

Alex had been cautiously hopeful after his father called and seemingly extended the olive branch, offering to visit Heavenly View for Christmas. Mitchell had refused to set foot on Alex’s new property ever since he’d purchased it just over a year ago. Mitchell wanted to make it clear how much he disapproved of Alex’s decision.

But now Alex knew the truth. Mitchell hadn’t been trying to make peace with his son. He wasn’t ready to listen when Alex said he didn’t want anything to do with the cutthroat world of high finance, or that he’d spend every holiday that his mother was available with her at her house in St. Paul.

No…the presence of the woman out there in his living room said otherwise. Angeline Kastakis was just another way for Mitchell to mock Alex…to sink the shaft just a tad deeper.

He tossed down the razor. It fell into the sink with a metallic clacking sound. His father had more than likely hinted broadly to his young, beautiful playmate that his son was an uncouth brute.

He’d hate to disappoint her.

Angeline nearly dropped the steaming teapot she held in her hand at his terse question.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” she asked, giving him an irritable, exasperated glance. Her gaze stuck and remained glued to his face.

“Damn,” she mumbled when the boiling water she’d been slowly pouring into his coffee pot overfilled the filter and splashed onto her hand. Suddenly Alex was beside her. He took the teapot and tossed it onto the stove before he grabbed her wrist. The next thing she knew he was standing next to her at the sink while he held her burned hand beneath the flow of the frigid water.

She grimaced in discomfort. “That water is like ice. Don’t tell me you actually took a shower in that.”

“It did the job,” he muttered.

Angeline inhaled shakily. He was right. He stood so close she breathed his scent, and he smelled fantastic—like spicy, clean male. She glanced up nervously into his face. The single kerosene lamp cast it in as much shadow as fiery glow.

“You trimmed your beard.” The sight of the neat goatee that surrounded his firm, sensual mouth had been what had caused her to burn herself. It was nothing more than a shadow and revealed the stark, chiseled lines of his chin and jaw.

He ignored her breathless observation and just continued to hold her hand under the cold water. His grip on her was strong and warm. It struck her just how tall he was as he leaned down over her. Her face was inches away from his heart. She wasn’t used to feeling so petite next to a man. She laughed about the casual Amazon jokes regarding her height, but Angeline had always been a bit jealous of petite females, wishing she could experience what it was like to feel super-feminine when she was with a man.

Her gaze skittered anxiously over Alex’s wide, flannel-covered chest.

The truth of the matter was Alex had caused a secret, shameful desire to bubble to the surface of her consciousness. What would it be like to be mastered by a man in bed? She’d never met a male before who made the forbidden longing seem like anything but a hot, but highly unrealistic fantasy.

Heat flooded her cheeks when she recognized the direction of her thoughts. How could she entertain such raunchy thoughts about Mitchell’s
son
?

“Is it all right?” he asked after a tense moment in which Angeline realized she’d been holding her breath.

“Yes. It’s fine.” She yanked her hand away from him, but he refused to let go. He lifted her dripping, numb hand close to his face and examined her through narrowed eyelids.

“I think it’s still a little red, but I can’t really tell in this light.”

His warm breath on her wet skin made her shiver. This time when she snatched her hand away, he released her. Angeline hurried over to the stove.

“I was making us some coffee. Thank goodness you have a gas stove.”

She was hyper-aware of him watching her as she found two cups in the cupboard. He leaned against the counter. He was so tall, the edge hit him at the top of his thighs, making it easy for him to rest his muscular, jean-covered ass right on the counter.

Angeline determinedly kept her eyes averted from the compelling sight.

“How do you take it?” she asked, holding up the filled coffee cup. He held out his hand, and she had her answer. She took a deep breath, preparing for battle.

“Alex, we need to talk.”

“We’re going to freeze our asses off in here. I have a kerosene heater out in the garage.”

And Angeline found herself once again staring at his broad, retreating back. He couldn’t avoid her forever, though. A few minutes later, after he set up the heater in the living room, Angeline was waiting. She handed him the coffee he’d left on the counter before he left for the garage.

“Ready to have that talk?”

He glanced at her warily.

“Why don’t we sit down?” she asked, nodding at the comfortable-looking couch situated several feet in front of the roaring fire. He stalked over to the couch and sat. Although his movements were brisk and businesslike, Angeline noticed the coffee hardly stirred in his cup while he lowered himself.
He must be a natural athlete…power and grace personified.

She found herself wondering once again why he’d bothered to trim down his goatee until it was a mere dark shadow that highlighted his mouth. She’d thought him handsome before, in a rough-hewn way, but he looked downright gorgeous at the moment.

“You’ve got something you want to say?”

His blunt question brought her out of her reverie. Was it possible for such a rude man to actually be considered attractive?

She sat down on the couch, careful to keep a good foot of space between them. She found it easier to stare into the fire instead of his fierce, gleaming eyes. His volatility made her nervous, although she wasn’t afraid of him.

Not really.

“Listen…I know you’re not thrilled about having me here. I’m not exactly happy about it either. Do you know anyone I could call in town? Anyone with a four-wheel drive I could possibly hire to come up the hill? I could try to find someplace to stay in town—”

“I’m not calling anyone and asking him to risk his life just so you’re nice and comfy tonight.”

She whipped her head around. “Why do you keep trying to insult me? I was asking in order to make you more comfortable, not me.”

He sprawled back on the couch and took a lazy swig of his coffee. His eyes glittered dangerously in the dim light. She suspected he was gratified by her show of pique.

“Besides being a little chilly, I’m pretty damn comfortable right now, thanks,” he said.

Angeline realized she was panting shallowly in anger. The degree of tension that had built in her muscles—all in a matter of a few seconds and a dozen rudely uttered words—shocked her. Did Alex Carradine get
everyone
so worked up? It was a miracle he was able to keep a single employee up at the ski resort. He seemed to insult people as easily as blinking his eyes.

She forced herself to take a deep, even breath. Angeline was known at work for her diplomacy and her ability to keep her cool, even in the heated battle of deal-making.

“I know you and your father don’t get along.”

“Oh, he told you all about that, did he?”

“Yes. I mean
no
,” Angeline said, flustered by his quiet sarcasm. Mitchell and she were hardly serious enough to discuss private family matters in depth, even though Angeline had hoped that was going to change after this weekend. “Look, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out you guys have a rocky relationship. I just don’t think…” She swallowed heavily.

“You don’t think what?” he prompted, his voice low and rough.

For a few charged seconds, she felt like a prisoner of his intense stare. She couldn’t think…couldn’t recall what she’d wanted to say.

She blinked and forced herself to look at the flames. “I don’t think you should take it out on me. I don’t know you. I’ve certainly never done anything to deserve your anger.”

“Who said I was mad at you?”

“I don’t think you’re mad at me. Not really. Your issue is with your father. I’ll thank you to leave me out of it. You don’t have to welcome me here with open arms. I know this is an awkward situation, but your intentional rudeness isn’t making it any better. There’s no reason we can’t be friends.”

The logs popped and crackled in the uncomfortable silence that followed. She sensed his eyes on her, making the side of her neck prickle.

“You’re wrong,” he said gruffly.

She turned, surprised.

“About you and your father’s relationship?”

“No, you got that right. Sort of understated it, actually.” The slight twitch to his hard mouth made her forget her anger.

“I was wrong about us becoming friends, then?”

“No. About me not knowing you.”

Her brow crinkled in puzzlement.

“I first saw you four years ago. You’re a hard woman to forget. I suspect my father knew that before he asked you up here, though.”

Her mouth fell open. “I…I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t you mean you don’t
want
to know?”

She stood abruptly, avoiding his stare. His softly uttered question caused a sensation like a constricting band around her chest. Her vision was filled with the memory of his eyes glinting in the firelight…with the sudden, sure knowledge of what she’d seen there.

Alex Carradine wanted her.

A lot, apparently.

She set her coffee cup down on the mantel and ordered her rebellious, pounding heart to calm.

“Maybe you’re right,” she said breathlessly, determined to ignore what she’d just witnessed in Alex’s eyes. “Your father and I have only been seeing each other for a short time. I don’t think it’s my place to interfere in private family matters.”

“Have you slept with him yet?”

She spun around, her discomfort forgotten. “You go too far, Alex. That’s none of your damn business.”

He shrugged negligently, completely untouched by her anger. He stood and came toward her. She forced herself to hold her ground as she stood in his looming shadow.

“Maybe I just want to know how much of a family matter you actually are.”

The sound of his deep, gruff voice made the back of her neck tingle. He set his coffee cup next to hers on the mantel.

“I’ll go see what there is to eat,” he said gruffly. Angeline bit her lower lip and stared determinedly at the floor while he walked away.

Wasn’t this situation uncomfortable and complicated enough without factoring in that hot look in Alex’s eyes?

He watched as she ate the last bite of her turkey and Swiss cheese sandwich. She was trying to ignore their previous conversation—act like it’d never occurred. The more she did it, the more irritated and surly he became.

She set down the now-empty bowl of soup on the tray he’d placed on the coffee table.

“That tasted fantastic. I didn’t realize I was so hungry.”

He didn’t say anything, just continued to eat his soup without pause. She got up abruptly from the couch, her arms hugging her torso as she walked away from the heat of the fire. The wind caused a high-pitched howl as it raced across the windowpane.

“It’s coming down like crazy out there,” she murmured as she stared out into the black, snowy night. She spun around after a long stretch of silence and hurried back to the small circle of heat created by the fire and the kerosene heater. Alex watched her out of the corner of his eye, his gaze lingering on her breasts. She’d unintentionally plumped them above her hugging arms. She shivered as she sat down on the couch. “The temperature has dropped as well.”

“It’s supposed to get down to ten degrees or so by midnight, with blizzard-force winds. Wind-chill will be twenty below zero.”

“Not a great time to be without heat,” she said. He knew she offered that bright smile in thanks for his feeble contribution to the conversation. It made him feel like crap—that trembling smile. Why was he being so hard on her? She wasn’t any different than most females. It was hard to say what women fell for more regularly—a man with looks, a man with power, or a man with money. His father possessed all three.

Angeline Kastakis was only human.

“What is it like…being the owner of a ski resort?”

“It’s great.”

She leaned forward, her elbows on her jean-covered knees. “I love to ski. I grew up on a farm in the Upper Peninsula. Lots of skiing up there. I try to go out west to ski at least once a year, but work has been so busy, I haven’t had a chance in years. I was looking forward to testing out your slopes.”

He paused in the action of setting down his bowl. Her statement surprised him, but it took him a moment to realize why. There was something exotic about her, something cosmopolitan and sophisticated. “You grew up on a farm?”

She nodded. “My parents emigrated from Greece.”

“What do they farm?”

“Well, in Greece, olives. In the U.S., corn and soybeans mostly, but my father has cultivated a small vineyard. He’s experimenting with wines. You never know, maybe he’ll put Michigan on the wine-making map.”

His gut tightened when she flashed him a smile.

“If you stick around until after the snowstorm, you’ll get a chance to try out Heavenly View,” he said, leaning back on the couch and stretching his arms along the back. He appreciated being able to look his fill of Angeline from behind.

“I’ll probably have to get back by the time the roads are clear,” she murmured. She twisted her head, meeting his gaze. Her curiosity bubbled out of her. “What made you do it? What made you sell your seat at the Chicago Board of Trade? According to your father, you were very successful.”

“I guess it depends on your definition of success,” he said slowly.

She said nothing, just continued to look at him, her gaze calm yet anticipatory. Patient but wanting. It wasn’t a quality Alex had ever experienced before.

At least not in a conversation he cared about.

“You want to know why I left Chicago?” She nodded. “Because I hated it. Everyone told me how lucky I was.”