Christmas Paradise

by Gale Storm

  “I...” She looked toward the staircase. “I didn't think of it.” She felt her skin warm even more as his breath touched her hair.

  “No matter, it's the season of brotherly love, after all.” His lips touched her forehead and she leaned her head back as she felt his lips softly close her eyes on their way to hers. She felt his arms encircle her. “Hmm,” he muttered as he moved to her cheek and ear. “Hmm, I thought it was my imagination that made your sweet taste haunt me."

  Tarry felt a bubble of laughter surface as he lifted his head. She reached behind her, lifting the stirring spoon still coated with the brittle candy.

  “I'd advise you to sample this before giving full credit to my lips."

  His eyes sparkled. “I know what to give credit to, baby, and it has nothing to do with sugar candy.” His arms tightened for a second then he released her. “That stew smells great.” His nose wiggled. “I didn't think I could be hungry for anything but you, kid, but I am."

  He moved to the stove, and Tarry frowned at his back.

  Little girl, baby, kid. He used the terms in the space of a breath, and the words bothered her. Did he truly think of her as a kid, a baby? She narrowed her eyes then straightened. Should she make an issue of the terms, or let them slide?

  He obviously didn't notice her withdrawal as he reached into the cupboard and helped himself to a bowl of the steaming stew. She shrugged and ran a hand through her lengthening hair. She caught sight of herself in the mirror beside the back door and blushed. Good Lord, she was in her housecoat, and she didn't even remember if she'd brushed her hair today. She ran her tongue over her teeth in horror. When was the last time she had brushed her teeth?

  Tyrone moved to the table, having located the sourdough bread in the breadbox. He winked at her, and she felt an unnatural shiver course through her.

  The door opened, and David stepped inside, brushing snow from his parka and smiling at his sister. “Hi, Tarry, bet Tyrone surprised you didn't he? He wanted to come in first to be alone with you."

  She ran lightly across the floor into her brother's arms. He embraced her, lifting her from the floor and swinging her around.

  “I hope you greeted Tyrone with the same enthusiasm, Tarralee,” he teased as he dropped her to her feet, then noticed Michael.

  Tarry stepped back and quickly made the introductions. David coolly accepted Michael without comment, noticing his bandaged foot.

  “Don't tell me—my dear big sister's wolf pack attacked you and would have eaten you except she bravely intervened."

  Michael laughed again. “Almost correct. Although without her intervention I would definitely have been a goner."

  “And they say women exaggerate.” Tarry forced a laugh. “David, come sit and have some stew with Tyrone."

  She caught her brother's hand and pulled him to the table. Tyrone lifted his spoon in salute as David joined him.

  David glanced into his sister's eyes and cocked his head as he gave her a shrewd scrutiny. “You're ready for bed?” His eyes took in the heavy robe and thin face.

  “I wasn't expecting company. If you must know, I was up half the night with the dogs last night,” she managed without sounding defensive.

  “You sleepy?” David considered this then he asked. “Tarry, you look thinner. You've been eating?"

  She laughed self-consciously, throwing a glance at Tyrone, then smiled at her brother. “I've been active building things around the house, and it's been cold."

  David tweaked her nose as Michael hobbled over and joined them at the table. Mike immediately made himself at home as he took a slice of bread and spread her homemade jam on it.

  They all noticed her blush as Tyrone asked, “What other misadventures have you had in the past month, sweetheart? I want details."

  She glanced at each man as they waited on her response. When she remained silent, Tyrone winked at her. She quickly moved toward the stairs.

  “Nothing, really; but if you'll excuse me, I had just run a hot bath before you came in. I'll be down later.” She turned and headed up the stairs, “I really must change."

  Her voice was tense, knowing they watched her as she hurried to her room.

  Once there, Tarry felt even more self-conscious than before. Her hair was uncombed and stringy, since she hadn't showered in days. Her face was white, and there were dark shadows under her eyes. She could hardly believe she had spent the whole day in Mike's company without being aware of her condition. Groaning, she hauled a clean blouse and jeans out of the closet and headed for the bathroom. Not only had she spent the entire day with Michael looking like a freak, but Tyrone had made a brazen pass at her in front of the other man. She had never felt so embarrassed or shocked at her reactions.

  Twenty minutes later she was showered and refreshed and knew she looked at least presentable. Quickly, she dressed in the new jeans she'd purchased in Los Angeles and a pretty violet silk blouse. Then, after applying a touch of makeup to her distressed face, she decided she would have to face the men sometime. Reluctantly, she headed back downstairs.

  David was stretched out on the couch and Tyrone was nowhere to be seen. Michael was propped in front of the bookshelf. David released a slow whistle as she came into view, lifting his head to stare at her.

  “Where did you get the fancy duds, sister? Speaking for myself, I like the effect. Sweet Lord, when did you turn into a woman?"

  Tarralee blushed at her brother's honest reaction.

  “David, really, we have guests."

  “Talking about guests I want you to know you're a marvelous hostess. You let Tyrone get away."

  “Away?” She glanced into the hall and then back at her brother. She relaxed as she saw the dark twinkle in his eye.

  “What did you expect him to do? You didn't act at all happy to see him, and when you disappeared, he..."

  “David, don't tease me.” She made her voice light as she tossed a throw pillow at him. He caught it without rising from his supine position.

  “I wouldn't blame him if he did ski down the mountain. A man goes out of his way for you, and all he receives in return is hot stew.” David shook his head. “Someone should have given you lessons on the male sex, Tarralee. You've got to keep them interested or..."

  His hand swept across him in a flat gesture. Michael collapsed in the chair, his eyes bright as he took in the new Tarry and listened to David's teasing.

  She lifted David's feet and made herself comfortable. She avoided Michael's gaze by looking at her brother.

  “Where is he?” Tarry questioned.

  The door opened then, and Tyrone brushed the snow from his parka. “Jeez, I'm happy we made it when we did, Dave. The snow is starting again, and the temperature must have dropped ten degrees.” He shut the door and easily removed his boots and parka then walked lithely across to the roaring fireplace. When at last he turned back to the room his eyebrow rose as he eyed Tarry.

  She didn't know what to say to him, and the silence was so tense she could feel her skin crawl. Finally, she asked, “You both must be exhausted. Where did you leave the Blazer?"

  It was David who responded. He stretched and rubbed his hand through his hair.

  “Tyrone picked me up in his Blazer and we made it to Ford's crossing before the snow became too deep. When the Forest Service told me the roads were closed I knew it must have been bad here, but I didn't expect more than nineteen feet of the white stuff. You were smart to have the radio installed last year. At least you can stay in touch with the outside world now.” He yawned and rubbed his hand over his shaved cheek.

  Tarry watched Tyrone out of the corner of her eye. He was quietly lifting each wrapped gift, studying the name and inscription with apparent concentration. David followed her gaze, and he winked at her as he sat up.

  “So, the wolves howled at the moon last night.” Another yawn stretched his jaw. “I suppose I should turn in early. I need the shuteye. Michael, has Tarry shown you a room? If not, I will. Why not come with me
now. Sis, you and Ty can make as much noise as you like. I doubt that I'll even hear the wolves’ chorus."

  “Good night, David,” she said as her brother leaned down and pinched her cheek. She was grateful that Michael accepted the offer, but when he came across the room and bent and planted a kiss on her cheek she was shocked.

  “Thanks for everything, lovely lady. I enjoyed today, and I'm sure to sleep through anything tonight. After all, you gave me those painkilling herbs at dinner.” He yawned then quickly nodded at Tyrone and followed David.

  Tyrone nodded his good nights, though his attention remained on the packages. Tarry was curious about his purpose. She didn't want to ask why he continued to lift each package and study the name. Finally, when he came to the last one and looked puzzled, she said,

  “If you're looking for your gift, you won't find it."

  He turned toward her, his eyes narrowed.

  “So, you've learned my weakness.” He grinned. “I've always been intrigued by mysteries, and wrapped packages are the most special mystery of all."

  “You think so? I always thought individuals offered more intrigue."

  He walked to the couch, sitting beside her as he relaxed into its depths, lifting his foot to his knee. “More intrigue, yes, but I doubt that they're as mysterious. For instance, you're intriguing, but you're as open as the front page of a newspaper. Little mystery behind the black-and-white print."

  “Nothing is black-and-white, or as simple as that, Tyrone. You're pretty easy to read, too, but I would say that few people can guess what's below the surface with you."

  “Hmm.” He appeared thoughtful as he continued to study her. “You can, though, can't you, Tarralee?"

  She gave an uncomfortable laugh as she stood to place another log on the fire. “You're giving me too much credit, Tyrone. I've never claimed to be a mind reader, nor at all psychic."

  “But you are. Look at how you communicate with the wolves. It isn't a language you share; yet they understand you. They mind you, protect you and care for you as much as you care for them. It's amazing to me."

  “I call it trust, and love."

  “Others might call it witchcraft."

  Tarry was uncomfortable as she sensed that he was talking about much more than the wolves.

  “You do send out the strongest vibes of anyone I've ever been around, Tarralee, and I'm the sensitive type who receives a lot of signals.” He continued thoughtfully when she met his faded gaze. “Now you're sending me a message, but for the life of me, I don't understand it."

  Tarry crossed her arms over her breasts in an unconsciously protective gesture. She had made the decision while in the shower that she must put up a barrier against his charm. She must protect herself from his fatal attraction. She had convinced herself their relationship was over in the past month. More importantly, she knew they had no future together, and continuing an affair was only likely to hurt her. She could afford to lose her reputation, but not her self-respect. If she lost that she would have nothing, and she already had so little. It was going to be up to her to put limits on their relationship, keep the embers from sparking into a forest fire.

  “Okay, Tyrone, since you've always been honest with me, I'll return the favor. Since leaving LA I've thought about what I allowed to happen between us, and I've found I'm not sophisticated enough to go on with it. You were right when you said I didn't have the exposure to handle the relationship. I'm flattered by your interest in my work with the animals, and in myself. Since I also understand exactly what this project means to you, I'll fulfill my part of our agreement, but I don't think it would be wise to continue the physical side of our relationship."

  His eyes almost closed as he listened to her words in silence. She remained in front of the fire, waiting on some reaction from him.

  “So, I'm not to expect a Christmas package?” he questioned after a moment, a teasing twist to his lips.

  Tarry took a deep breath. That was to be it, then. He accepted her statement without a flinch. He wasn't going to argue with her or try to charm her back into his arms. He just accepted then made a light joke of her love. She felt her face warm at the thought of that word. Of course, he would be unaffected by her love. He couldn't guess that she loved him, that she yearned to be his completely, because she had never told him.

  “No, you won't find a present under the tree, but that doesn't mean there isn't a surprise for you."

  He laughed. “Good. I'm going to enjoy every moment of searching and pestering until I find it.” He leaned forward, caught her wrist and sat back easily on the couch, pulling her on his lap.

  “I thought I said—"

  “I know what you said, darling, and I intend to make you regret every word.” Her eyes widened in surprise.

  Chapter Nine

  Tarry spoke in a small disbelieving voice. “What do you mean? I was perfectly clear—"

  He pulled her closer to his chest as his head lowered toward hers. “I got the message, Tarralee, when I arrived. I hoped I was reading you wrong. But, of course, I wasn't. You're awful calm about breaking my heart."

  “Breaking your heart?” she repeated. His beard was now touching her forehead. His lips were a breath away, and she felt a warm tickling sensation spread through her body in response.

  “Yes. Men have hearts, too, woman. I told you when we first met that I had fallen for you like a ton of bricks. I've found that to be the best metaphor for my condition ever since. I've been going crazy in LA since you left, imagining you frozen in the yard, eaten by Torpon or nestled under the covers with another lover, never having the right to hold you again or see you. I've worked like a maniac trying to put you out of my mind and I've failed. Totally failed.” He was holding her tightly, his eyes boring into hers, the sincerity of his words echoing in her ears. “And now when I arrive I find my worst fear realized. You've taken a lover."

  She laughed. “You mean Michael? I told you I found him on the trail today. Besides you're the one that warned me about taking things too seriously between us, remember?” Her voice was no more than a whisper.

  He tilted his head, eying her. “Did I do that?” A thin smile touched his lips for a second as he seemed to remember their first night together, “Of course, I warned you. I was warning myself. For the moment, we're deeply attracted to one another. We're compatible, and we enjoy the same things. If it leads to something more we will deal with it later, right now...” He leaned closer again, his breath a whisper against her lips, “I need you. My body aches for yours, sweetheart."

  Tarry was puzzled by her lack of motivation to stop what she knew would happen next as he tipped her head back with the pressure of his mouth on hers. The kiss was gentle, savoring; and she responded to it despite her firm intentions. She didn't want to hold anything back, and it was the biggest struggle of her life that she did.

  Tyrone seemed unaware of her effort as he lifted her in his arms and carried her up the stairs. Her lack of resistance to his actions was an obvious acceptance of their rekindled romance.

  But it wasn't the same for her as before. She didn't revel at his familiarity with her body. She fought back a choked “no” as his hand unfastened the buttons of her shirt, his thumb finding her bare nipple with unerring accuracy.

  What was wrong with her? His tongue gently massaged her earlobe as her hands rested on his chest. Why couldn't she relax as she had the other times they had made love? Shyly, she touched his beard, rubbing her knuckles against it. Her other hand touched the top of his head as he bent to suckle her nipple.

  Her thoughts distracted her when he looked quietly into her eyes at last, reading for himself her hesitation, and the reason he saw behind it.

  He didn't want to ruin everything with her, but he couldn't let her go, either. Slowly, he shifted his weight and pulled her head into the curve of his shoulder. He kissed her temple, cuddling her as he closed his eyes. He found her hand and squeezed it.

  She was trembling. She sensed he knew
he was pushing her, yet they had missed each other desperately. He took a deep steadying breath as he looked into her eyes.

  “What's wrong, love? You can tell me. You're shaking. Are you frightened?"

  Tarry blinked. She was shivering. She wasn't cold, either. First the fire and now his touch had kept her warm. The restraint she was feeling was the cause, she knew. How could she tell him without offending his artistic temperament, or totally giving herself away? She wanted to look away from his warm gaze, but she couldn't bring herself to.

  “I'm sorry, Tyrone. I really am. I know I let you believe that I was willing to prolong our affair, that I could continue the sophisticated act like all the other women you've known; but I can't. You were right when you said that I'm not ready—"

  She stopped. His eyes had narrowed, and she saw a flare replace the former warmth of his gaze.

  “I didn't mean to tease you. I wouldn't do that.” Buttoning her shirt, she sat up. When he did the same she pushed to her feet and took a step away from him. “Ty, I...” She chewed her bottom lip in vexation. She must be honest with him; it was all she knew to do. “I didn't mean this to happen. I mean, I fought against it from the first moment I saw you. You know I did. I'm so sorry."

  Tears welled up in her eyes as she turned her head away from his all-seeing gaze.

  “What are you saying?” His voice was very soft.

  “You're totally wrong for me. We can't have a future together. I thought for a while that we could make love and work together, but now ... I know I can't. I don't know why, and I don't even care anymore."

  The realization came to her that his hands were wrapped around her face, and she felt him tremble as he bent his head and captured her lips. The kiss was long and sweet and replaced the tears with a warmth that consumed her. When he lifted his head, she felt dizzy.