Christmas Paradise

by Gale Storm

He walked to the refrigerator and removed the large bottle they always kept there. She noticed Tyrone leaning against the kitchen jamb, his eyebrows raised now that he had abandoned his sack.

  “I thought you were kidding about the brandy being in the fridge, Tarralee. I should have known you weren't."

  She frowned at his relaxed stance. Surely, he wasn't going to stay to have some before flying away?

  “It will be dark soon, shouldn't you be leaving?” She knew she was being rude, but she wanted him out of her house and her life as soon as possible.

  “Not very hospitable, are you, Tarralee?” He eyed her with narrowed eyes, his voice soft and serious. “But you're right. If I'm to get out of the mountains before dark, I should get Charlie moving.” He straightened, turning and shaking Dwayne's hand. Then he was smiling at her. “I want you to know the past five days have been the most interesting I've ever spent. Should you happen to reconsider joining my project, I've left a card on the table with my number. Call any time, day or night. I'll leave word—if a message comes through from you, I'll drop whatever I'm doing.” He casually zipped his stained parka closed. “I'll be waiting for that call."

  “You'll wait a lifetime, then.” She spoke under her breath, hoping David and Dwayne wouldn't hear as she turned her back on him and lifted her hands to the fire.

  He laughed. “When a man gets on your bad side, woman, what does it take to make you smile?"

  He walked up behind her and pressed his square hands against the tops of her shoulders.

  Forcing herself to remain still, she felt rather than saw his head bend as he placed his lips against the curve of her neck. Then he bit the soft flesh, sucking it into his mouth with calm intent. She flinched and jerked away, but her movement came too late. Her hand flew to her neck, touching the tender spot in shock as she faced him.

  “What do you think you're doing? I—"

  “I was giving you your first hickey, sweetheart. Your neck is pure virgin territory, so creamy smooth that it's a walking advertisement for the lips of any man brave enough to take the chance. Besides, I just couldn't leave without giving you something to remember me by. Ciao."

  He touched her cheek softly then joined David at the door. She watched him leave, her eyes wide.

  “We'll be leaving in ten minutes, Dwayne. We'll wait for you outside.” Tyrone lifted his hand as he winked at Tarry.

  David watched her with interest from the living room door. Tyrone walked up to him and clapped him on the shoulder.

  “I'll be seeing you, Dave, and I'll call tomorrow."

  They shook hands, and David walked with Tyrone through the door. She couldn't hear their lowered voices as they said their goodbyes on the outside step. Her hand was still pressed against her neck. Dwayne spoke as he lifted her afghan from the couch.

  “Sit, sis, before you fall down. Remember, you're just out of the hospital.” He winked at her.

  David came back into the room. He made no comment as he took the boiling brandy from the burner, pouring three cups full.

  “The gall of the man,” Tarry muttered as she took the cup, making herself comfortable on the coach.

  “You asked for it, you know,” David said as he plopped down on a chair across from her

  “Asked for it?” She repeated dumbfounded.

  “Tyrone isn't used to being treated fourth-class, Tarry. You were damned rude."

  “Me, rude? He's the one. He is a conceited, domineering, chauvinistic pig. I did nothing more than tell him I would not work with him; and for that, I was shot, hauled to a hospital against my will, treated worse than a child and now bitten. Even my dogs don't bite unless ordered to,” she huffed, her hands wrapped around the mug.

  David and Dwayne grinned as they shared a sidelong glance, then they studied her flushed face with cool speculation.

  “Tarry, what's the matter with you?” Dwayne seemed genuinely amused. “I've never seen you in such a stew. I'll agree Tyrone was a bit forward, biting you like that, but, goodness..."

  “Don't give me that!” Her dark eyes flashed dangerously at her brothers. “He did it deliberately to get even with me. Quit defending the man, you sound just like David, Dwayne. He attacked me without provocation, and he laughed. I don't like him. You both know me well, and I don't usually get upset with people without due cause. I rarely even raise my voice. Just keep him away from here, and me."

  With that she stood and walked past them to take the stairs two at a time.

  In her room she walked to the window and stared out on the snow-covered yard where the helicopter still sat silently. She could see Tyrone checking the engine and Charley sitting in the pilot's seat. No, she prayed silently, let them get away from here tonight. She couldn't stand another evening with that man in her home. She wasn't prepared to face why she disliked Tyrone so much; but for the moment he represented everything that was foreign to her way of life, and she knew he was a threat to her secure world.

  By the time Tarry showered and changed it was dark, and she still hadn't heard the roar of the ascending helicopter. That meant he would be downstairs with David and Dwayne. She didn't think she could descend the stairs without losing face, but hunger was a great mobilizer. Wearing a white turtleneck that covered the dark bruise on her neck and a pair of her best jeans, she took a deep breath and decided to get it over with.

  The four men were in the living room, talking comfortably. As her foot touched the last step, Tyrone looked up and his eyes pinned her to the spot. Her heart accelerated, but she stared at her feet and walked into the kitchen without making any comment.

  David had taken the Kentucky Fried Chicken they had bought and placed potatoes and carrots in a warming pot. The rich smell filled her nostrils and told her how starved she was. There was hot coffee and a pan of corn simmering on a back burner. She quickly began making a fresh salad and cutting slices of cheese, but Dwayne arrived, taking over. She sat at the table and filled glasses with fresh spring water.

  “David,” she called as pleasantly as she could manage when everything was done. “Dinner is on, boys."

  She poured herself a glass of milk. The men immediately found seats, and laughing companionably, they filled their plates. She sat between her brothers and glued her eyes to her food as she took mashed potatoes, carrots and salad. She rarely ate meat, even chicken. Fish and rice were her choice, though she always kept half a beef for company or her brothers. She could feel Tyrone's eyes watching her, but she refused to meet the look. He wasn't about to ignore her, she realized, when he forked a drumstick onto her plate.

  “You need protein, unless, of course, you enjoy fainting.” His words cut her, and she glared across at him.

  “I do not eat meat, Mr. Shields.” She forked the meat back onto the platter and looked again at her plate.

  “No wonder you never grew up, then,” Tyrone teased.

  Tarry was uncomfortably aware of Charley and her brothers’ silence as she bit into a slender slice of cheese. She wasn't about to respond to Tyrone's rudeness or give him the pleasure of making a scene in front of the other men. If he wanted to be rude and malicious that was his business. She was above that.

  “Wolf or bear got your tongue, Tarralee?” Tyrone taunted after a moment, and she glared into his eyes before clamping her jaws tight, then taking another bite of her food. “When we were alone, you had plenty to say. Of course, our little quarrel would be very tedious to others, I suppose. You are thinking of them, of course."

  “And you definitely aren't.” Tarry managed to keep her voice level and very low as she continued. “You're selfish, rude and egotistical. A brute who doesn't care about others, or...” She stopped.

  Tyrone's eyes were dancing at her spontaneous reply and the humor reflected in them angered her beyond endurance.

  “I'm going to feed the animals.” She stood and walked to the pegs, taking down her coat and scarf, stuffing her hands into gloves before angrily opening the door and striding into the snowdrifts.

/>   It was snowing again, the soft granular stuff that told of ice storms and bitter cold. Tarry blinked rapidly as she let herself into the kennel area where she kept the dogs in the winter. What were the tears for, she wondered. He was nothing more than a callous bully who enjoyed taking advantage of others and causing pain. She hated him, she told herself, yet she couldn't quit thinking about the man. Her hand unconsciously touched the dark mark on her neck. He was malicious and disagreeable, and she would never agree to any project of his, ever!

  “I've never hated anyone,” she told Cedar as she rubbed the spot between her ears. “But I hate him.” She whispered the words watching the dogs as they curled up on their sides contentedly for the night. “I wish..."

  “What do you wish, Tarralee?"

  Startled, Tarry dropped her hand to her side as she faced Tyrone. “You followed me?"

  “Of course, what did you expect I would do? Sit still and face your brothers? Besides, I wanted to ask you how you're feeling tonight, since there hasn't been an opportunity today."

  She stared at his shadow. Then she patted Cedar one last time before opening the gate and letting herself out into the night. Tyrone was closer than she expected. Their jackets touched as she came to an abrupt halt in front of him.

  “Why don't you leave me alone? I never asked you to bring me home. You could be in LA entertaining your adoring fans by now, eating steak with your lady."

  He laughed as he caught her elbow and turned her toward the house. “First, I'm not an actor, and I don't have all that many adoring fans. You have such a superficial opinion of me, Tarralee. Why on earth would I trade your invigorating company for the boring admiration of a thousand fans?"

  “Because you're an egomaniac.” Her voice was cold. She felt him fake a shiver.

  “Your voice has nothing on ice crystals, love. You know, I really feel you have acting potential."

  Tarry shook her head and pulled at her arm, but he would not release it. “I didn't think you were stupid, Mr. Shields, but I'm beginning to believe you've been fooling the public.” She looked pointedly at her arm.

  “I'm not stupid,” he defended himself suavely. “You want me to release you, but I'm not going to do it. Not until you and I get a few things straight between us. For instance, why do you think you're talking yourself into hating me, when actually you're very attracted to me, as I am to you."

  “Argg...” She gritted her teeth, wrenching her arm backwards, but still he hung on. “For once,” she ground out between her teeth, “leave me alone."

  “I can't do it, Tarry. Not until you give me a good reason why I should leave you alone. Why you won't join me in the documentary. Tell me what I've done to be on your hit list. And how I can smooth the way into your heart."

  She thought rapidly before she dared to look him straight in the eye. “I don't owe you any explanations, Mr. Shields. I'm on my home property, it is late, and I dislike you intensely. If you insist on detaining me further, then I am filing a harassment suit, and I guarantee I'll have everything you cherish before I'm done with you."

  His hands relaxed and dropped to his sides. “Damn, what I wouldn't do for a camera crew and a good microphone. You're incredible. Are you sure you've never acted before?"

  Tarry wanted to scream at him, but instead she reached out and shoved him out of her way. He stumbled back from the force of her push and landed on his back in the snow. He was laughing. She didn't pause to look back at him. His hand whipped out and caught her ankle as she strode past, and with one neat jerk she tumbled onto her face in the cold snow. She reacted instantly, rolling onto her back; but he threw himself on top of her, pinning her down. Tarry had learned to wrestle with her brothers, and with the neatness of a professional she flipped him over and put a hammerlock around him, forgetting her injury as the adrenalin shot through her veins.

  “Now are you going to leave me alone?” She stressed each word as she gripped his neck. She could see his blue eyes shining in the starlight not more than an inch from her. Their breath made little clouds.

  “I don't think so.” Swiftly, he rolled over, easily pinning her arms to her sides, his bulk resting on top of her. “As a matter of fact, I'm going to do what I should have done the first moment I realized you were a woman and not a little boy.” His head lowered purposely as his lips covered hers. She shook her head violently, but he only increased the pressure, holding her still with brute strength. He tasted salty, and as she realized he had every intention of kissing her thoroughly, she became still and forced herself not to respond.

  His kiss became gentle, inquisitive then, sampling, not taking or demanding. Tarry felt a quiver start in her throat that moved to the nether regions of her belly. It was all she could do not to respond to his knowing touch as he lifted a hand and slowly traced her thin neck. His thumb rested against the erratic pulse point on her throat, the scarlet hickey.

  He lifted his head, and she could tell he was smiling though his face was completely in shadow. “Tarry, Tarralee, what am I going to do about you?” he murmured as he pushed himself to his feet, drawing her with him. He shook his head slightly as he slid his hand along her bundled arm.

  She felt bemused and wasn't sure if she should slap him or ignore him. Her body felt light, her head heavy. She didn't resist when he took her elbow and guided her toward the house. She reached for the handle, but he laid his gloved hand over hers and held it still before she could open it.

  “Will you please let me apologize and explain my work to you, Tarry? I know I haven't impressed you since I arrived here, but..."

  Her voice was only a cold whisper as she looked into his dark eyes. “I always trust my first impressions, Mr. Shields."

  “So do I, Miss Roessel. And would you like to know what my first impression of you was?"

  She told herself she wasn't interested even as her voice answered, “It might be interesting."

  “I saw a dark-haired nymph frolicking carefree with ten wolves. Her face was alight with an emotion I've rarely seen since adulthood. It was a warming, pleasant experience, Tarralee. It made my heart sad because I've been too long removed from the purity of emotions you displayed, yet it made it skip with joy that I found it again. When the dogs started snarling at you, I was afraid they might destroy the beautiful child who gave me such pleasure. I only wanted to protect that child. But you were a woman. A woman with self-confidence and strong will. You attacked me, but then took care of my injury without even realizing you also had been injured. It caused a lump in my throat to see your fierceness and independence. I never meant to offend that spirit, Tarralee. I only wanted to share it and grow to understand it and maybe, just possibly, befriend the courageous woman I had found."

  She swallowed. It was hard not to be charmed by the warmth in his voice, and the sincere words.

  “We better go in.” She looked away, not realizing his words had mellowed her until she heard her soft voice.

  “Will you give me a second chance, Tarralee? The wolves have.” He still held her hand tightly.

  Tarry met his gaze in the porch light as her mind whirled around. That much was true. If the dogs hadn't accepted him from the first, they would have torn him to bits immediately after the first gunshot. She knew, and so did he. For some unknown reason they had allowed him to ski away from the cabin the following day without disturbing her. She did not understand it, but she respected it, as she respected the sixth sense of her animals.

  “I'll think about it."

  He grinned, and she saw his dark beard move, allowing his teeth to shine.

  “That's all I can hope for.” He released her hand as she opened the door and walked inside.

  It was a surprisingly short evening after all. Her brothers and Charley were involved in a rowdy card game. They had cleared away the meal and were using macaroni for chips. David wouldn't allow either Tarry or Tyrone to stay uninvolved.

  Tyrone managed to win six straight hands in less than forty-five minutes, and by then
Dave had lost all his macaroni to him.

  “I had forgotten what a cagey gambler you are, Ty. But your luck is too good for me.” Dave threw in his cards. He reached across the table and picked up the empty brandy bottle. “I hope there's another one of these in the dugout.” He smiled at his sister.

  “You know where to look.” She grinned at him, her eyes instantly falling on her cards as Charley also threw in his hand and sighed.

  “This hand isn't even worth the macaroni I've already lost.” Charley stretched, placing his hands behind his head.

  Tyrone eyed Tarry. She knew to end the game all she needed to do was throw her hand in as well, but for the first time all evening she had a flush. It wasn't a high flush, but it was a flush, and she knew the chances of Tyrone having something to beat her were small. She placed her last five pieces in the pot, matching Tyrone's raise, and stopped David by placing her hand on his arm.

  “There's another bag of macaroni on the shelf in the freezer. Bring it and I'll make my bet."

  Charley laughed and David plopped down in his chair. “You've got to be kidding, Tarry. He has the luck of the Irish tonight."

  She smiled at her brother, her eyes shining. “He may have Irish luck, but I've something better."

  David shook his head and raised an eyebrow. He looked across at Tyrone's pile. “You've had it this time, Ty. When she gets that gleam in her eye no one has a chance."

  “Thanks for the advice, pal, but I'll meet her bet and raise her twenty more.” His lips curled in satisfaction.

  “You are asking for it, buddy.” David stood and walked to the freezer and brought back the extra bag. He carefully counted out twenty dollars worth of pieces and pushed them toward Tarry.

  She never lifted her eyes as she pushed them into the center of the table and matched Tyrone piece for piece.

  “I believe we set a three-raise house limit when we started,” he noted. She bought the chips to match his raise.

  “You're bluffing.” He leaned forward, his eyes burning into her.

  “You have to pay to find out, Mr. Shields."