Alice nearly wilted in relief when the low timber of a sexy Irish lilt cut through Leslie’s escalation to justification. Turning, she saw George close behind her with an affectionate smile pasted on his gorgeous face and holding out a—thankfully full—champagne glass. She took it, plastering on a smile, but it slipped away with a whoosh of breath when his hand slipped around her waist and tugged her back against his hard chest. His body heat radiated against her bare back.
“Who is this?” he asked, looking at Justin expectantly.
Forcing a sip of the bubbly beverage down her tight throat, she gestured to the pair with her glass. “This is Justin and Leslie Morrow. Leslie is also an associate at Stanley, Piers and Walsh.”
What Justin was was left noticeably hanging.
“This is George Brennan.”
The two men shook hands firmly before he shook Leslie’s as well. Damn woman was eating up the Irishman with her eyes. Hadn’t she already taken one man from her? Now she thought to take another?
Except George wasn’t hers.
It’d be awfully nice if he were though.
It was a radical change in thinking from just moments before, but an infinitely more honest one. Alice shook her head and sipped her wine. Whoever had said honesty was the best policy should’ve excluded being honest with one’s self. Lying was far safer.
Justin looked between them curiously. His gaze settled on George’s hand while the Irishman tugged her closer. Even though she was in high heels, he towered over her but she could feel him pressed against her. His hips just above her bottom, his chest against her shoulder blades. Every hard line of him weakened her knees until she was sure she’d sag to the ground if he let her go. In fact, everything about him set her on fire. He gave her a little squeeze.
“How did you two meet?” Justin asked with a glint in his eye.
“Oh, that’s a story,” George said, humor clear in his voice. “She literally threw herself at my feet.”
“I did not!” A bubble of incredulous laughter expanded and burst. Alice grinned up at him, tapping his arm with her clutch. “That is so not how it happened.”
“How did it happen then?” he asked, his face just inches from hers as he smiled down at her. The shadows had faded from his eyes. He seemed so relaxed, so happy in that moment, a sharp ache gathered at the center of her chest. Without a thought, she reached up and stroked her fingers along his jaw. His pale eyes grew stormy. It was an intimate moment. Too intimate to happen at that particular place and time. She dropped her hand and looked away, but a moment later she felt his lips graze her temple.
“If you’ll excuse us,” George said softly. “This lovely lady owes me a dance.” He nodded to Justin and Leslie. “It was nice meeting you.”
Chapter 5
The firm hand at her waist steered Alice away from her one-time fiancé and his very pregnant wife but she was hardly aware of them anymore. All she could focus on was the man by her side, the hot hand searing her bare flesh and the sensual cocoon that had descended over them back there. She’d never felt anything like it in her life. In those few seconds, she’d felt not only completely alone with him in a room of hundreds but connected to him as well.
It was a bit unnerving, so as soon as they were out of sight of the other couple, she rotated out of his protective embrace and stepped away. “Well, thanks for that.”
“Ex-husband or ex-boyfriend?” he asked and her polite smile slipped away. “I’m going to go with ex-boyfriend. Do you want to talk about it?”
With him? “God, no. Would you want to talk about your wife?”
His lips tightened and his posture stiffened.
“Listen, I should really let you get back to your friends or date or whatever now.”
“I came alone. My company is one of the sponsors,” he told her, catching her hand before she could drift away. “And I wasn’t joking back there. You do owe me a dance now for stepping in to rescue you yet again.”
“I didn’t ask you to.”
“No, but you obviously needed me to. For that, you owe me.”
He tugged her onto the dance floor and pulled her firmly against him, but not too tight. His hand seared like a brand against her bare skin. He took her hand and moved her into the dance. Alice knew she could escape him if she wanted to. As much as she knew she should want to, she didn’t. It was pure magic being held in his arms, feeling him move against her. He was a skilled dancer and a strong lead. He didn’t simply stand swaying back and forth, but guided her through a series of wide turns and dizzying twirls until her angst was swept away and she grinned up at him.
His serious expression was back, though there was still a touch of heat warming his eyes. It was as if he could see right into her soul. See the pain, perhaps feel it. Maybe even understand it. He knew pain, perhaps not the sort wrought through betrayal but he knew how it spread, how it possessed. If he was still mourning for his lost wife, then surely he knew how hard it was to escape.
Still, he’d dared to ask. What did that signify? Compassion? Caring? Idiocy? She wasn’t sure. All, she did know was she’d tried to avoid him again and again yet here she was in his arms.
Damn Gran and her blasted talk about fate and destiny. It all had to be a load of bull, but yet here she was. If this kept up, she’d have a hard time continuing to resist him.
“What are you thinking?” he asked in his husky brogue.
“Only that you’re an excellent dancer,” she told him. “How did that happen?”
“You’re not the only one with a grandmother.” His eyes brightened and the corner of his lips kicked up in a half-smile. “She liked to dance on Saturday nights. Just because my grandfather had passed didn’t mean she was going to give it up.”
“How old were you?”
“Every Saturday night from the time I was seventeen until she passed four years later.”
Alice winced, then laughed. “That must have put a damper on your love life. Did you even get a chance to date?”
“Not many,” he admitted. “How about you? You seem to dance well.”
“No,” she said, feeling a measure of surprise as she realized what she’d been doing. “You must be a better lead than I thought, because normally I’m as uncoordinated on the dance floor as I am off it.”
“Your ex wasn’t a good dancer?”
Shaking her head, she shot George a reproving look. “I told you I didn’t want to talk about it. But no, he hated to go dancing. I think he thought it was beneath him, but now maybe… I don’t know. Maybe it was just me.”
“I can’t imagine that.” He pulled her closer and brushing his cheek against her hair. “Any man would be lucky to hold you so close even if only for a few minutes.”
Alice smiled against his shoulder. He really was a charmer. Naturally his sexy Irish accent upped the odds in his favor, but she was fairly certain he could sweet-talk any woman into just about anything. Is that what he was looking for?
Did she mind? Did she really?
George continued to hold her close and they talked politely throughout the remainder of their dance about her law firm and his technologies business. About charities and the weather.
The dance itself was anything but impersonal. She could feel his heart beating against hers, feel the brush of his chest against her breasts, and the slide of his hard thigh between hers when they turned. Giving in to temptation, Alice savored the feel of his muscular body so close to hers, their smoldering heat.
It could have been hot and heavy on the whole but she relished each point of contact individually. Even let the slow hum of desire warm her without a fight. In more than six months, she hadn’t let another man so close—physically or mentally.
Maybe it was the length of time or the man himself, but she didn’t think it’d ever happened like this before. Stirring. Sensual.
This was the way it was supposed to be.
For lovers.
The thought sent a trickle of trepidation down her s
pine but it was quickly washed away by the slow deluge of excitement. Perhaps there was something here worth thinking about? Something worth exploring? Maybe it was time she came out from under her rock, breathed in a little bit of life again and took a chance. Even if it was nothing more than a fling. She didn’t need to feel good forever. She’d never experienced that and lived without it all right. Maybe what she needed was to feel good again for right now.
Whether that feel good moment came with George or some other man, she deserved a little happiness.
Yeah, as long as she didn’t become too invested in that happiness to the point that it broke her again when it was gone.
* * *
The song ended and without a word, George took her by the hand and led her away from the floor. Taking two glasses of champagne in one hand from one of the plentiful trays, he lead her through one of the dozens of pillared archways surrounding the ballroom and up a narrow set of stairs until they reached one of the many private balconies over looking the ballroom. He swept an arm for her to precede him but Alice stopped in the arched doorway and looked up at him then up higher still to the ball of greenery that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere.
George’s gaze followed hers and when it lowered once more, his eyes were darker than she’d yet seen them. “Mistletoe. Isn’t that convenient? Because I’ve been wanting to do this ever since I first saw you tonight.”
His lips touched hers, clinging lightly.
Just since he’d seen her tonight? Oh, Alice realized, she wanted this since she’d first seen him… ever.
His fingers ran up her bare spine and back down again in a sensual caress.
She fell back against the archway, staring at him in wonder. She always seemed to be breathless around him, but this was something else. It hadn’t merely caught. She could hardly catch it at all. And after a single touch!
With a satisfied half-smile, his mouth descended again. Parting her lips, she sank against him with a sigh of surrender. She felt him stiffen in surprise but a moment later his arm wrapped around her and pulled her close. His mouth turned ravenous, tasting her as if he were a man long starved. Perhaps he was as much as she, but his kiss was delicious. Champagne and desire.
Lifting herself on her toes, she deepened the kiss with a low moan. Welcoming the invasion of his tongue. Returning each stroke with hers. Trembling with the heady desire roused by the touch of his hands against her bare back. Wishing more of her were naked to experience his caress.
Lord, it was getting hot in there!
Something cold splashed against her toes. With a low curse, George pulled away and took her glass and clutch away from her, setting them with his glass on one of the tables before he turned back.
His eyes were alive with fire, like the bluest part of a flame and just as scorching. His mouth found hers again, hot and open. Her head swam dizzily and fell back. He didn’t stop. Accepting the invitation, his firm lips skimmed across her cheek and down her neck. His breath came in hot pants against her sensitive skin.
“I’ve been thinking about you for weeks, lass,” he murmured against the hollow beneath her ear.
“Really?” she gasped. His tongue grazed her earlobe, his lips closed around it. With a shiver, she felt a rash of goose bumps break out down her arms.
“I can’t get you out of my head,” he admitted. His mouth returned to hers. Alice moaned low in her throat as his tongue traced her lips. “I regretted not coming after you. When I saw you here tonight, it was like…”
Oh, don’t say it.
“Destiny.”
Yes, maybe it just had to be.
He kissed her again. His lips were soft, coaxing. Tender. She was lost to him. Any resistance she might have had to him or to the idea of them together slipped away. It’d never happened like this before. Passionate. Consuming. Her body ached for him. Her heart burned for him.
Alice treaded her fingers through his hair and held him close, pressing her aching breast against his chest, wanting more. His hand slipped down farther over her silk-covered bottom, cupping her. Scorching hot through the thin layer. Lifting her against him, he carried her behind the curtains framing the balcony, hiding them away from the crowd below. His arousal pressed insistently against her belly as he pinned her against the wall. Upward his palms skimmed, over her hips. Up her ribs. They hesitated just beneath her breasts. His thumbs grazed the peaks of her nipples and she gasped.
“Oh, George.” His name was but a fervent prayer on her lips.
His lips captured hers with a moan but a moment later he lifted his head. With a frown he pulled away, running a shaky hand through his hair. “Here I am, kissing you like that and I don’t even know your name.”
Damn, what had he just asked? “Alice. Alice Chanler.”
“Alice,” he repeated, stepping closer again. His fingertips brushed the line of her jaw, and then slid around the nape of her neck. “I’m… How did you know my name?”
“Oh, your daughter told me.”
His hand stilled.
“My daughter?”
“Yes, I ran into her the other day at the park while you were sledding on Pilgrim Hill,” she explained, slipping her arms around his waist. “She pointed you out.”
George stiffened and stepped away, his eyes once again as hard as shards of ice and just as warm. “That’s impossible. My daughter died almost a year ago.”
She gaped at him, her head swimming again but for an entirely different reason. That couldn’t be right. She wanted to ask him if he was sure, but that would’ve been entirely idiotic. Of course, he was sure. It was his daughter. “I’m sorry. I must have been mistaken…”
But she wasn’t. She knew what Hazy had said, who she’d pointed out on more than one occasion. Besides, the resemblance between them was obvious. That adorable, freckle-faced girl. His daughter who’d died a year ago!
Oh, God! She couldn’t be here. Not now. “I’m sorry, George. I should go.”
Before she could run, he caught her by the arm and swung her back toward him. The torturous pain from that first day in the park was back in his eyes. He looked so haunted, how could she tell him he was in more ways than he imagined? “Alice, why do you say my name like that?”
Because that was how Hazel said it. But Alice couldn’t admit that, could she? Not without sounding like a crazy person. “I don’t… I should go,” she said again. He held her tight and wouldn’t let her go.
“My ex-wife and daughter were killed in a car accident on Christmas Day last year,” his low, wooden voice was thick with emotion. “They were on their way to visit Jan’s parents upstate. A year ago, Alice.”
She longed to comfort him. To ease his pain, but what could she say? “I told you, I must have been mistaken.”
“What did she look like?”
“Why would you ask that? I can see it hurts you.”
“Tell me.” The raw words were torn from him.
Her heart cried out for him. “Why are you doing this to yourself? Let it go, George.”
“Are you such an authority on letting it go you can give such advice?”
Alice flinched as if he’d slapped her. “I’m trying.”
“Are you? That wasn’t what it looked like.”
Who was he to ask her things like that? To pry into her personal business? He didn’t know anything about her. About what Justin had put her through. What the past year had dealt her. She jerked her arm out of his grasp and snatched up her clutch. “Goodbye, George.”
He caught her hand and looked down at her with the pain of universe reflected in his haggard expression. His beautiful eyes were glassy with unshed tears. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. Will you tell me? What did you see? She was everything to me. My whole life. The past year has been the worst of my life. Sometimes I think I can hear her. Talking. Laughing. The sound tears at my heart. I can’t move on.”
“She wants you to.” The words popped out before Alice could stop them but no matter what th
ey revealed, she had to do what she could to ease his pain. Pain she felt as if it were her own.
“You talked to her?” He dropped down into a chair and propped his elbows on top of it, pinching the bridge of his nose.
Her eyes burned and she blinked rapidly. “George, please. This won’t help you. It’s not what Hazy would want.”
“Hazy?”
An even worse slip than the first one.
“Oh, hell.”
Chapter 6
“Alice?”
Alice looked up from the affidavit she’d been staring at blankly for the past hour. Her intern stood at her office door. “Yes?”
“He’s on the phone again.”
There was no need to ask who ‘he was’. George had been calling her office all week. Trying to pin her down after she’d slipped away from the ball while he’d gaped at her, stunned by her slip. Ignoring him when he called after her. Like a coward, she’d found a taxi and disappeared before he’d caught up with her.
It hadn’t taken long for him to track her down. He had her name and the name of her law firm. Still his call Monday afternoon had come as surprise.
“Will you have lunch with me?”
“George, don’t do this. You need to move on. Yes, me too. We both do.”
Perhaps it was time for both of them to put their ghosts to rest.
But what she’d seen would do nothing to help him do that. If he thought he could have a direct line to his daughter, he’d never move on.
The opposite had been true for her. Seeing Justin again with Leslie had been cathartic for her. Just what she’d needed to let go of her past at last. Or had it been George who’d done it? Either way, she felt cleansed from the oppression of the last six months. Happier and more optimistic.
George needed that, too. To let his wife and daughter rest in peace and live a life without them. When he was able to move on, perhaps Hazy could, too.
Then and only then could they have a chance together.
So, she’d ignored the calls. Made sure he didn’t see her when he dropped by the office looking for her. Though she’d kept the flowers he’d sent with a simple note asking to see her again.
Spirits of the Season: Eight Haunting Holiday Romances Page 13
