Escaping Christmas (Contemporary Romance)

by Charlotte Ashwood

  Shaking her head in an attempt to dispel the memories, Angie headed for the kitchen to get a much-needed cup of coffee. Alex had finally left that morning, saying he needed to go to the office. She guessed he wanted to put some distance between them, and she really didn’t blame him. She told herself that she was glad he’d gone. It gave her some time alone to regroup and build up the defenses around her heart. This was just a vacation fling, and she wanted, needed, to keep it that way. She was not going to fall for any man again, not even the handsome Alex Farhadi, no matter how sensitive and incredible he was.

  As she allowed the rich aroma of Vietnamese coffee to enfold her, Angie wrapped her arms around her waist, aching to feel his arms around her instead. The intensity of her longing was the first warning that she might have left it too late to pull back.

  Angie stared at her reflection in the full-length mirror. She had never been so elegantly dressed before. The floor-length silk-blend gown clung to her like a second skin; the gold patterns brought out the color of her eyes. She ran her palms over the material. It was so delicate on her skin, making her feel sensual. The dress was sleeveless with a cowl-neck and hugged her waist, giving her a graceful silhouette. But it was the back that was the pièce de résistance, as far as she was concerned. She turned away from the mirror and strained her neck to see the silk strip that served as a back. She’d had to go braless for this one. Angie would never have used the word sexy to describe herself in the past, but right at this moment, in this dress, she knew she was sexy.

  She turned back to face the mirror once again and sighed. Although she hadn’t seen Alex since he’d left her bed that morning, she’d heard from him. A small smile tugged at her lips as she recalled their conversation. He’d asked her to go with him to a New Year’s Day gala. When she’d teased him about the celebration being a day late he’d told her it was a family tradition. That had stopped her teasing instantly. She had no plans to meet his family; they were not in that type of relationship. As a matter of fact, they weren’t in any type of relationship.

  “It’s my grandparents’ party. They hold it every first of the year,” he’d explained. “Don’t worry. It’s a big, formal thing and we’ll probably get lost in the crowd. I don’t have a date and would like you to be my companion.”

  She had remained silent for a moment then smiled as she realized she was his companion, or she had been for close to a week anyway. “I would love to go as your companion.” She’d stressed the word and he’d chuckled at his end. She sobered up when she remembered something. “I don’t have anything to wear, though.”

  “Leave it to me.”

  “Alex, I’m not comfortable with that.”

  “I’m the one who needs a companion, sweetheart. Let me get you something to wear.”

  “But…” She was at a loss for words. No man had ever bought her clothes before, not even Michael.

  “It doesn’t matter what you wear. I’m probably going to rip it off you at the end of the night, so let me buy the dress. That way I won’t feel too guilty when I do.”

  She had felt desire stir at his words but they still made her smile. “Your logic is flawed.”

  “It is, isn’t it?” he’d agreed, amusement lacing his voice. “It’s probably because I’m so turned on by your voice. We’ve never spoken on the phone.”

  “It’s just an average female voice, Alex.”

  “Yeah? Well, there’s nothing average about the way I’m feeling. My pants are most uncomfortable, I can assure you.”

  Angie was speechless. How could he get her so hot and bothered just by talking on the phone? “You could always come by,” she’d suggested.

  “I wish I could.”

  “I’m sure you’ll survive,” she’d forced herself to say dryly.

  “I can’t wait to have you to myself tonight.”

  “That won’t be till after your grandparents’ shindig. What time does it start, anyway?”

  “I’ll pick you up by seven. Is that okay?”

  “Seven is fine. See you then.”

  “I’ll be thinking of you.”

  “Same here.” She hadn’t stopped thinking of him since he left that morning, and she’d tried. Standing in front of the mirror several hours later, she still was thinking about him.

  She ran her palms over the dress again. It was Vera Wang. She shuddered to think what the dress must have cost. The gown had provided her with the first inkling that her companion might be slightly better off than she’d imagined, but what convinced her were the Gucci shoes and the Ralph Lauren purse. She was sure they could pay her rent for an entire year.

  Having a fling with a simple architect was one thing, even if there was nothing simple about the way her pulse raced at the thought of Alex. But the idea that he was as wealthy as she was beginning to suspect caused a thin shiver of apprehension to run up her spine. Even though she’d had some wealthy clients who had been sweet, those in her personal life had been a nightmare. Take Elizabeth, for instance. She had been a support to Angie after the accident, but it hadn’t always been that way. When she had first begun dating Michael, Elizabeth had been convinced Angie was after the family wealth and treated her with disdain.

  Then there was her father, who had decided that a waitress was not good enough for him after he’d gotten Angie’s mother pregnant. His family had acted no better, shunning her when she’d tried to reconnect with them as a teenager.

  Michael had been another story altogether. She’d known she was taking a risk in getting involved with someone who had more money than he knew what to do with, but she’d told herself that she was stereotyping and ignored her instincts.

  She knew it was wrong to tar them all with the same brush, but she could honestly say that she despised rich people. She had found out the hard way that the wealthy usually believed their money excused them from behaving like decent human beings. Why be considerate of others’ feelings when you could buy them off with a string of pearls? Well, Michael’s pearls had paid for her first-class ticket, she thought with satisfaction.

  Dabbing Annick Goutal’s Petite Chérie on her pulse points, she breathed in appreciatively and immediately felt calm. When she’d finally unwrapped Alex’s Christmas present, she’d found the perfume nestled in folds of soft tissue. Ironically, Michael had introduced her to this fragrance when they’d first met, and it had quickly become her favorite. She took in another breath and reminded herself of her resolve. This was just a fling, and she needed to make sure she did not get emotionally involved.

  Alex cast a sideways glance at Angie. She was staring out the window of the moving car and had been curiously silent since he’d picked her up. Maybe taking her to his grandparents’ party in his Aston Martin Vanquish had been a mistake. She had taken one look at the car and become withdrawn.

  He had no idea what she had against the vehicle. It was luxurious and comfortable and drove like a dream.

  He looked at her again before turning his attention to the road. “Okay, what’s the problem?”

  She turned to look at him. “What?”

  “You are not talking to me. What is the problem?”

  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her shrug. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Alex felt irritation rise within him at the aloofness in her voice. She had turned back into the woman he’d first met, before they’d shared a container of ice cream and every available surface in her apartment. He couldn’t have that.

  “Sweetheart, you almost took me against the wall when you opened the door this evening. That’s how hot you were for me. Now I’m getting frostbite, and I’d like to know why.” He ignored her gasp and focused on the road. He needed answers, or he was going to turn the car around and do what he should have done when she’d greeted him at the door wearing the dress he’d personally picked out for her.

  He knew what she was doing, of course—she was building walls. He recognized the signs because it was what he’d decided to do
when he’d left for his apartment that morning. That was before that blasted phone call, which had left him hard and burning for her. He’d almost rushed back to her apartment but had forced himself to stay at the office and finish what he had to do. Even now, he was in a state of partial arousal. He heard her sigh. “Is it the car?”

  “I don’t know anyone who drives an Aston Martin,” she told him. “I don’t know anyone who can afford to drive one.”

  “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “You’re stinking rich, aren’t you?” She made it sound like an accusation.

  Alex couldn’t believe his ears. “You have a problem with the fact that I drive this car?” What if she saw the Ferrari, or the yacht? Or any of the other toys he had but didn’t take seriously? He choked down a laugh.

  “I thought you were just a normal guy, you know….” She trailed off.

  “I am a normal guy.”

  “You live in an apartment.”

  “And your point is…?”

  “I thought you were a regular guy.”

  “I’m no longer a regular guy because I drive this car?” he asked in disbelief.

  “The things you bought me,” she said, gesturing at the gown she was wearing. “This is Vera Wang.”

  “So? You had a fight with Vera or something?”

  “Don’t patronize me, Alex.” She sounded upset. “I have a good idea how much dresses like this cost. And the shoes, the purse… Now this car.” She sighed. “I’m not sure this was a good idea.”

  Damnation, she was serious! Every woman he had ever been with had wanted the things his money could offer, and now the one woman he wanted to be with had a problem with his money? Alex felt something tighten in his chest as he shot a look at Angie. He was falling for her, and she would be leaving in less than a week.

  Alex drove up the driveway of his grandparents’ imposing mansion and turned off the engine. They sat silently for a while before he turned to Angie. He stretched out a hand and curved it around her neck, bringing his face to hers for a passionate kiss. The kiss was hot and fierce, possessive and tender. Angie’s eyelids fluttered shut as she returned the kiss with equal fervor.

  When they parted he touched his forehead to hers. “Try to forget about the car tonight, okay? I want you to have fun. Will you do that for me?” She chewed on her lip, all pretense of lipstick gone, and then nodded reluctantly.

  “Good.”

  They got out of the car, and as he handed the keys to the valet, Alex placed his hand on the small of Angie’s back. He noticed the small shiver that went up her spine. No matter her reservations, her reaction to him was elemental. He intended to remind her of that later.

  Chapter Six

  An hour later, as she watched Alex chatting with one of his many relations, Angie recalled their earlier conversation. She couldn’t believe she had actually referred to his grandparents’ gala as a shindig. This party was certainly not a shindig. It screamed of wealth, complete with expensive champagne and jewel-clad women. Alex had explained that the hosts were his maternal grandparents. He and his sister and cousin had spent every vacation with them growing up.

  Alex threaded his fingers through hers. “Come, I want to introduce you to some people.”

  Without giving her a chance to reply, he led her through the crowd until they were standing before an elderly couple.

  “Grandpa, Grandma, this is Angie Scot.” He turned to Angie. “These are my grandparents, Mr. and Mrs. Zain.”

  “I’m pleased to meet you,” Angie said.

  Alex’s grandmother was an elegantly dressed woman with sparkling eyes. She kissed Angie on both cheeks then proceeded to examine her from head to toe.

  “You are a beautiful woman,” she stated simply.

  Angie blinked in surprise. “Thank you, Mrs. Zain.”

  “Oh, no, no, no! Please, don’t make me feel any older than my age. Samira will do quite well.”

  Angie agreed to call her by her first name. After all, she didn’t look like anyone’s grandmother. When Angie said as much, the older womanlaughed delightedly.

  “Where did you find her, Alex?” she asked, keeping her gaze on Angie.

  Alex laughed. “She’s my next-door neighbor.”

  “If you’re wise you won’t keep her next door for much longer.”

  Angie felt her face flush as she met the teasing eyes of Said Zain. Where his wife was petite and exquisite, Said was tall and lanky with a rather distinguished air.

  Alex put his arms around her waist. “You didn’t raise a foolish boy, Granddad.” He winked at his grandfather and led her toward the throng of guests.

  “Don’t forget to bring her over in a few days,” Samira called after them.

  “They love you,” Alex whispered.

  “They are very kind,” she said. “I like them, too.”

  Angie enjoyed herself thoroughly. She was undeniably Alex’s woman and she found herself enjoying the role. Alex introduced her to lots of people, but didn’t stray from her side and seized every opportunity to touch her. The message was clear—Alex had staked his claim.

  Looking around at what looked like a gathering of the high and mighty of Malaysia—the prime minister and his wife were there, for goodness’ sake!—Angie knew that the Aston Martin didn’t even begin to scratch the surface of Alex’s wealth. She felt foolish for making a big deal about the clothes and accessories; he probably hadn’t even noticed the amount he’d spent on them.

  Watching him in this environment, it was as though he’d transformed from her casual, easygoing, semi-annoying neighbor to a high-society playboy. If she were honest, the change had begun when she’d opened her apartment door earlier that evening to find him looking drop-dead gorgeous in a tux. Instead of a bow tie, he’d wrapped a checkered scarf around his neck, making him look like an international playboy and a desert warrior at once. Watching him now, Angie knew she was seriously out of her league. Not like it mattered. She’d be gone in a few days.

  “You’re thinking about me.”

  Angie felt goose bumps rise on her bare arms as Alex whispered in her ear. She snagged a champagne flute from a passing waiter and took a sip before sliding him a sidelong glance. “You’re getting conceited.”

  He flashed his sexy smile. “I know I’m thinking about you and I don’t think you’re conceited,” he said with a mischievous grin.

  She hid a smile behind her champagne flute as she took another sip. “You really need to do something about your flawed logic.” When he didn’t respond she met his eyes, and the fire in them acted as kindling, igniting a slow burn inside her.

  “Logic is the last thing on my mind,” he said.

  Angie felt desire rise up within her. “Alex—”

  “Cousin, introduce me to this stunning beauty.”

  They both turned at the new voice. The newcomer was about the same height as Alex, definitely over six feet, though slightly heavier in build. She could see the marked resemblance in their curly black hair, long eyelashes and finely shaped patrician noses. But where Alex’s eyes were open and friendly, this man’s were hooded, and he had an air of reserve about him that was noticeably absent from her companion. He was so utterly gorgeous that if she wasn’t already crazy about Alex she would definitely have given him a second glance. As it was all she felt was slight admiration—okay, a lot of admiration—but no attraction to the man.

  “Angie, this is my cousin and business partner, Hussein Farhadi. Hussein, Angie Scot.”

  Angie stretched out her hand and Hussein enveloped it in his larger ones. He slowly brought it to his lips, his eyes never leaving hers. “I have a yacht. When he’s done with you, we can go sailing along the Andaman Sea.”

  Angie felt the blood leave her face as the smile died on her lips. She didn’t know what she was going to do until her fist connected with his jaw. The sharp ache in her wrist drowned out the shattering sound of the champagne flute she’d been holding. She ignored both just as she i
gnored the fact that they’d suddenly become the center of attention.

  Instead she drew herself up to her full height and stared straight at Hussein. She couldn’t believe the bastard was related to Alex. What a waste of good looks. She raked him with her eyes and slowly settled them on his crotch, then looked up and leaned into him slightly, whispering loud enough for those standing close by to hear.

  “Your yacht,” she said, putting a slight emphasis on the word as her gaze flicked down to his crotch again, “isn’t big enough.” She saw a glimmer of amusement and grudging respect in his dark eyes before she spun on her heel and walked away.

  “Damn, Alex, your lady packs quite a punch,” Hussein said, his eyes trailing after Angie as he absently rubbed the spot where her fist had landed.

  Alex felt fury well up inside him as he stared at his cousin. He felt like one of the desert warriors of old, and he knew that if he’d had a scimitar on him it would have taken all the angels of heaven to keep him from running it through his cousin. He looked around and saw a few people gawking at them in astonishment. Something in his eyes must have convinced them to quickly look away. He turned back to his cousin.

  “You are a bastard, you know that?” he said through his teeth.

  Something flashed in Hussein’s eyes but disappeared so quickly that Alex thought he’d dreamed it. “It’s no secret that I’m one, is it?”

  “Oh, spare me your self-pitying drivel! Your circumstance of birth has nothing to do with the cynical, black-hearted asshole you’ve become. I tried to warn you to hold back your bullshit, but you are so damned arrogant!” He ran a hand through his hair in angry exasperation. “You listen to me, and listen good, Hussein Farhadi. If you’ve cost me that woman you are going to wish that you were never born.” Alex spoke in a low voice, his fury unmistakable. He would have found the look of shock on his cousin’s face comical if he hadn’t been so angry.