Unwrapped (25 page)

She’d clapped her mittens and stomped one foot, then taken in the décor. Her eyes had gone wide and her lips had parted. She seemed out of her element, but that didn’t detour her. She set her jaw and headed down the center aisle. Snow flaked from her boots, melting on the black marble tiles. She left a trail of slush.

Aidan had studied her, studied her hard. His skin prickled and something inside him stirred. A sexual stirring he hadn’t felt in a very long time. Not since Aspen.

“A close-up, Sam,” he requested. A zoom lens had brought her fully in focus. He’d stared at her until his eyes burned. Until familiarity gripped him, and awareness shook him out of his trance. His heart had kicked so hard, he swore he’d broken a rib.

He’d watched as the cameras tracked her to beauty and fragrance. It was slow going on her part. She had a significant limp. He wondered if she’d hurt herself skiing.

He found it ironic that her gifts included Snow Angel cologne. Fear sliced through him that she would pay and slide out the door before he could reach her.

He’d hurried from Security, jogged down the hallway. The elevators had been locked down, so he’d taken the stairs, two at a time. The moment he’d hit the first floor, the lights had gone out. He waited and let his eyes adjust to the darkness. He knew the maze of departments like the back of his hand. He was heir to the store.

He stretched his hands, feeling his way. He didn’t want to knock over a display. He immediately headed for the fragrance counter. No sign of Allie. Had he found her, only to lose her again? His stomach sank.

Sam’s shout drew Aidan to a cornered shoplifter.

The thief had been Allie.

She was his to frisk.

He grew hard. For the first time since he was a little boy, he believed in Santa Claus.

Her back was to him now as she set the cologne on the jewelry counter and lowered her backpack. She then removed her ski cap and jammed it in her jacket pocket. Her blond hair tumbled to her shoulders, thick and shiny and longer than he remembered.

She shrugged off her jacket, tossed it next to the Snow Angels. She toed off her right suede boot then flinched while removing her left. Her thick wool sock had rolled down and he noticed her ankle was bandaged. She stood before him now in a navy waffle pullover and worn jeans.

Her shoulders were set, her jaw tight, as she flattened her hands on the glass countertop. Her weight slumped on her right hip. She was ready for him to pat her down.

“Make it fast,” she said. “I’ve nothing to hide.”

Somehow he didn’t doubt she was telling the truth. But this was too good an opportunity to pass up.

Aidan laid the flashlight on the counter so the beam flashed back on Allie. A halo surrounded her, making her look like an angel.
His
snow angel. He was determined she wasn’t going to walk out on him again.

He rolled the Taser between his palms, debated sticking it in his back pocket, only to decide against it. Should the weapon accidentally spark, he’d receive fifty thousands volts to his ass. That would prove painful, debilitating, and embarrassing as hell. The last thing he needed was being put out of commission with Allie in town.

He slid the Taser down the counter beyond her reach, then moved up behind her. “This will only take a minute,” he said. Or it could take an hour, depending on the intimate thoroughness of his search.

He went on to grip her shoulders, inhaled the scent of her hair. The crispness of the outdoors clung to her. She was pure snow angel. He wanted to pull her back against him, but now wasn’t the time.

She’d rejected him in Aspen. But even though she’d left him, he had yet to let her go. He’d thought about her every day for three long years.

He went on to stroke down her arms, then circle her wrists with his fingers. He squeezed as if handcuffing her. She flinched and he released her.

He ran his hands down her back, slowly, yet firmly. Her body was toned, sleek, and athletic. He spanned her waist, patted down her abdomen. Flat belly, narrow hips. He slid his hands over her bottom then moved down her legs. She was all soft worn denim and warm woman.

Working his way back up, he skimmed the inside of her thighs, eased passed her hip bones. It took all his effort not to let out a low groan. He ran his knuckles over her ribs. He stretched the tips of his fingers toward her breasts . . .

“You copped a feel!” Allie swung around so quickly, he was forced to step back. “You-you—”

The dim lighting couldn’t hide her shock at seeing him. She blinked, paled, looked at him as if he were a ghost from Christmas past. She hesitantly touched his chest. Her palm flattened over his heart. The beat told her that he was very much alive.

Fortunately her gaze didn’t lower below his belt. His attraction had become obvious. His sex now tented his gray slacks, a major bulge in his boxer briefs.

“Aidan?” His name was spoken as softly as a sigh. She curled her fingers into the fine cotton of his white longsleeve shirt and clung to him.

He ached for her, so much so, he physically hurt. His first impulse was to draw her near, to let the years fade away and to recapture Aspen.

Yet a part of him pulled back. He fisted his hands, forced them to his sides. He had no idea why she was in Chicago or how long she planned to stay. The blizzard would benefit him. They were snowed in for at least one day, possibly two.

“It’s Christmas Eve, Allie,” he began. “Shouldn’t you be at a ski resort?” The words came out more sarcastic than he’d planned.

The shadows couldn’t hide her blush. She released his shirt. “I’m spending the holiday with my sisters this year,” she said. “What are you doing here?”

“I work retail.”

Her face softened. “So you once said.”

They’d been naked when he’d told her. Her back had curved into his chest; his erection primed against her lower spine. The anticipation of taking her had tormented him until he couldn’t wait any longer. But he had. For her. They’d talked, had sex, and slept. He’d awoken alone.

Their gazes held, yet their conversation lagged. They soon grew as quiet as the store. They stared at each other, so deep and intent, he felt her under his skin. As smooth as satin.

In that moment, she warmed him from the inside out.

His heat left her flushed.

She fanned her face.

He started to sweat.

“I’ve a cab waiting,” she finally managed.

He looked toward the front door. “No taxi driver would wait for a fare in this weather. The wind’s picked up and the snow’s drifted. The cab would be buried.”

“I didn’t pay him.” He could see she felt awful. She regretted stiffing her driver.

“You can always call the cab company and settle up after the storm,” he suggested.

Realization hit her then. “
After
the storm? I’m stuck here?”

“I’m afraid so. We’re snowbound.”

Chapter Two

A
llie Smith hated confinement. She needed the freedom of the outdoors. Clean air filling her lungs. The crisp bite of the morning chill turning her cheeks pink. She thrived on mountaintops with fresh powder and frosty air. She was at home there.

Here she faced a night in a department store with Aidan, and nowhere to run.

Did she really want to escape this man? She knew the answer, even if she wouldn’t admit it. She was convinced that a conniving elf had put her in Dutton’s with the man of her dreams just to tease her. This time there was no hot tub or warm bed. She was standing in the main aisle of a dark department store. The temperature was dropping by the second.

She openly observed him. He looked the same, only different. Tall and handsome, with five o’clock shadow that had arrived two hours early. His dark hair was cut short. His features were strong and his shoulders broad. She’d known him as a ski stud, but looking at him now, she saw a sophisticated businessman in a white shirt, burgundy and gray paisley tie, a braided leather belt, and sharply creased charcoal slacks. He looked preppie in his black tassel loafers and argyle socks. His style confused the hell out of her.

Would the real Aidan please stand up?

She found this new man sexy in a most disturbing way. Aristocratic came to mind. Polished and urbane. And to think he’d once been hers. She had unwrapped him on a Christmas Eve. He’d been the perfect present.

She let out a deep sigh. What a fool she’d been to run away, to lose him as both friend and lover. Now he thought she was a thief. His look was unwelcoming. He wasn’t overjoyed to see her.

She reached for her ski jacket, retrieved her cell phone from the inside pocket. “I need to call my sisters. They’ll be worried,” she said.

She dialed, but no one picked up. She left a quick message. “It’s Allie, I’m in Chicago at Dutton’s—” and the connection failed.

Aidan pulled his Blackberry from his pants pocket. He flipped it open, only to shake his head. “No bars.”

Her shoulders sank. She tried sending a text. No go.

Seconds later, Sam from Security approached them. He shuffled down the aisle, herding a small group of stranded shoppers.

He looked at Allie first. “I located your check. My apology, Allie Smith, you’re cleared of any crime.”

She let go of the breath she’d been holding.
Score one for the Snow Angels,
her look told Aidan. He nodded in her direction, his opaque gray eyes holding steady with hers, though he didn’t apologize for the pat down. The hint of a smile told her that he’d enjoyed touching her.

Sam next turned to Aidan. “I also found four stragglers. No one’s happy.”

The arrivals clustered at the jewelry counter. A tall man with spiky brown hair and a hot temper turned on Aidan. “Are you the store manager?” he demanded.

“He’s the—” said Sam.

“First floor supervisor,” Aidan cut Sam off. “I’m Aidan.”

Sam’s brow creased, but he didn’t contradict his boss.

Allie caught their exchange. Both men appeared guarded. Almost secretive. They shared a work-bond that didn’t extend to the shoppers.

“I’m Chris Johnson,” the newcomer said. “I was caught on the sixth floor in sporting apparel when the lights went out. I’m headed to Atlanta for a charity golf tournament. My flight leaves in two hours.”

Sam flashed the Maglite in the golfer’s face. “You’re aware there’s a blizzard?”

“I hate snow,” Chris said. “I need to get to the airport.”

Sam eyed Chris with suspicion. “Chris Johnson, you say? I follow golf and you look different than you do on TV.”

Chris stared down Sam. “Television adds ten pounds.”

“It’s not your weight,” Sam said. “Johnson is shorter and blond.”

“Check the color on your set,” the man growled. “Damn storm. I can’t miss my flight.”

“Sorry, but Chicago’s at a standstill,” Aidan told the golf pro, his tone friendly but firm. “This could be the worst snowstorm in history. All transportation including air travel has shut down.”

“Not good enough.” Chris got in Aidan’s face. The golfer shoved him back a step. “I’m a celebrity athlete. You’re in charge. Do something, retail man.”

Aidan went stiff, his jaw tight.

Allie was surprised he kept his cool.

Sam snagged the Taser off the jewelry counter and pressed the trigger. The guard’s hand shook as electricity sparked, crackled. “Touch Aidan again and I’ll jolt you into tomorrow,” he warned the golf pro.

Allie bit down on her bottom lip, smiled to herself. She liked the way the guard stood up for his boss, even though Aidan was six inches taller and thirty pounds heavier than Sam.

“No harm done.” Chris moved to the front door and pressed his palms against the frosted glass. “There has to be an emergency release.”

Sam curled his lip. “If there was, trust me, you’d be the first to leave.”

“The generator’s old and runs minimal electricity,” Aidan said. “We’re lucky to have the light we do now.”

That light suddenly dimmed. The entire building shuddered as the backup machinery strained against the storm. The Maglite flickered, the batteries running low.

Sam shone the shaft of light on all those gathered. Allie saw an elderly couple, their eyes wide, frightened, along with a younger woman with heavily lined eyes and a long sleek auburn ponytail. The redhead’s face was pinched, her lips a glossed fuchsia line.

Allie crossed her arms, leaned against the jewelry counter, and watched as the woman approached Aidan. This could prove interesting.

“I’m Pamela Parker.” She looked left, then right, making sure she had everyone’s attention. “I’m a close friend of the Dutton family.”

Aidan’s brows pulled together, and uncertainty etched his brow. He seemed to doubt Pamela’s familiarity with the store owners, Allie thought. That intrigued her. As the floor supervisor, he couldn’t possibly know the Dutton’s every acquaintance. He didn’t travel in their social circle.

“The Duttons won’t be pleased to hear good customers were stuck in their store on Christmas Eve,” Pamela added. “Their son will be furious when I tell him. He’s such a sweetheart.”

“Is he?” Aidan asked, curious.

“Yes,” Pamela stated with assurance. She spoke rather loudly, as if projecting her voice from a stage. “Alden and I have dated in the past.”

“
Alden?
” Allie heard Sam cough into his hand.

She swore Aidan forced back a smile.

Allie wondered why he was so amused.

Sam shot the faint beam directly in Pamela’s face. “Security attempted to get everyone out. You had plenty of warning, yet you kept trying on clothes. I found you in the fifth floor dressing room. Discarded garments were stacked to the ceiling.”

The redhead had dressed in the dark, Allie noted. The front pearl buttons on her blue satin blouse were crooked and the collar was turned under. Yet the woman appeared confident, clutching two designer dresses with the price tags visible. Allie’s eyes widened. She could pay her rent for a month on what those gowns cost.

Pamela lifted her chin. “I needed the perfect dress for Christmas Eve dinner and couldn’t make a decision.”

Sam had the solution. “You could wear one for the main course and one during dessert.”