Christmas Paradise

by Gale Storm

  Tarry pushed him away and sidestepped, wrapping her arms around herself. She walked to the window and stared out on the snow-covered yard. Was she dreaming, imagining things? He was trying to make her forget her resolutions. Why was he playing games with her? She told herself silently that he wouldn't do that, yet why did he insist on continuing to touch her? She pressed her fingers tightly to her lips as she heard him step behind her. Turning slowly, she faced him. The darkness of his eyes sent a thrill to the bottom of her stomach, as a warm flush touched her skin.

  “I said I only wanted you, Tarralee. None of the others matter anymore to me. Any woman in my past is just that, past. I only want you."

  Tarry looked at him in wonder. Why did she doubt him? What was wrong with her?

  “I want to believe you, Tyrone. You know how much I want to believe you.” She looked into his eyes. “But it won't work."

  “What won't work?” Surprise brightened his eyes, and she saw a nerve work in his throat. “What do I have to say to convince you?” He reached out and wrapped her in his arms, his lips nuzzling her ear. “I want you, Tarralee, child-woman of the mountains. I need you to be my partner, my companion for life."

  Her voice was a whisper that cracked as she stared into his eyes. “Would you want me as your wife?"

  “I didn't offer that,” he replied instantly. “I'm offering you much more than a wedding ring, sweetheart. I'm asking you to share my life as an equal partner. Marriage only leads to disgust, unhappiness, and divorce. I never want you to be unhappy."

  She shook her head, trying to understand what he was saying.

  “Then you want me as your mistress? Are you already married, Tyrone? Is that why?"

  He laughed gruffly, interrupting her before she could continue. “What an imagination you have, Tarralee. No, I'm not married, and I never plan to marry. I never want to make anyone that unhappy.” He kissed her, his lips capturing hers as he held her firmly, his muscled body taut against hers.

  It was all she could do to pull her head back and stare at him as she spoke. “I care for you, Tyrone, as I've never cared for another man. I don't want to hurt you, either, but I need to understand why you won't marry me? You come from a solid home. You have a family who love one another."

  “Both my parents have been married four times, twice to each other, Tarralee. Hollywood and politics aren't the environments for marriage. I've seen the pieces and dealt with the individuals who are left disillusioned because they insisted on a marriage license. I've seen the aftermath of divorce too often to be immune. I never want to do that to anyone that I love, especially not to you, or to us."

  She absorbed this in surprise. While she had been with Tyrone's family there had never been any mention of a past breakup. She couldn't even recall any real tension in the house. How could she be so blind? As she stared at him, he tightened his arms around her, kissing her lightly on the cheek then touching his tongue to the corner of her lips.

  “Please don't, Ty. You know how vulnerable I am right now. I need to understand your reasons.” He nibbled at her ear as she tried to push him away unsuccessfully. “You know I can't resist you when you use sex against me."

  He narrowed his eyes as if she had struck him. “Sex.” He repeated the word like a curse. “Sex.” He released her and walked to the door before turning and meeting her damp gaze. “Sex,” he said again. “You know so little about the word that I'm surprised you even know how to say it. You were a virgin when we met, and you're still an emotional virgin. You haven't the slightest idea how sex can be used against you. I'm very tempted to teach you, very tempted; but it would take too much time away from our project. I wouldn't want to jeopardize that now, would I?"

  His voice grew with each word until it sounded to Tarry as if he was speaking through a loudspeaker. The bitterness and resentment of the comment struck her, and she felt her stomach muscles contract. Could he possibly be afraid that she would pull out of the project if he didn't make a sincere show for her affections? Surely not?

  Yet his life was so different from hers. The women and men he dealt with were often so superficial. When she remained silent staring at him, his jaw tightened.

  “I knew I had made a terrific mistake when I found out you were an innocent. You're filled with an idealist view of love and sex. Undying, I think I've heard it called. You want an undying commitment from me. Well, I can't make that. Life is too short to live confined within that type of cage. All the other women I've known have understood that. None of the others wanted more. But, of course, you're different. A hermit, living in a world of your own. It was a lonely world, worse than a convent. Well, Tarralee, I'm not a monk, and you're not a nun. What you need is experience. You're a tempting winter fantasy, and I just happened to be the first man that found you. I'd count myself lucky if I didn't know you're the one that will be hurt because of the experiment."

  His eyes flared at her, and she hastily touched the buttons at her throat.

  “I said I wanted you for my partner, and I still do. Take off the damn shirt, Tarralee.” Her eyes widened in surprise. “I don't mind waiting, lover, the slower you remove it, the more anticipation it causes in me. A slow striptease is the most satisfactory I've ever witnessed. Take it off.” His voice was a low growl.

  “Why are you acting this way? You're..."

  She tried to talk, but he immediately placed his fingertip on her lips. He whispered, staring into her eyes, “I'm a temperamental bastard, sweetheart, and I'm selfish when I'm with you. I wanted to frighten you, and it took very little effort to achieve my purpose."

  She stared uncomprehendingly into his dark face. His index finger traced a tear streak down her cheek as he smiled at her, his disgust with himself obvious as her lower lip trembled.

  “You don't need to apologize, Tarry. It's entirely my fault for trying to push you further than you can go. I should have known better. Everything is so simple to a woman like you. The feelings we arouse in each other are all-consuming. You're so young and inexperienced, but when you're in my arms I forget that. What you need is experience, Tarry. I'm more than willing to let you experiment with me, or even with your poor helpless Michael; but I don't want you to imagine I can give you some sort of undying love, or commitment—ever. As I've told you, I care deeply for you. I won't desert you until you tell me to get out of your life. But I want you to understand—I won't tie either of us to a legal document that says I love you when I can show you physically how much you mean to me."

  “Is there that much difference?” she asked inanely.

  His face paled. “Of course, there's a difference. Lifelong commitments lead to disillusionment, and I've told you before I can't give you that. Are you in love with me, Tarry?"

  Feeling rejected even before she said the word, she nodded.

  “I knew I shouldn't have gotten involved with you. You're so damn naive.” He dropped his hands, pacing to the bed and back.

  “What has that got to do with anything?” Her voice lacked its usual strength as he faced her.

  “Everything, my innocent. You lack the experience to know what is love, and what isn't. You think because you respond to my advances you're in love with me, when in actuality you would react to any man's passion and caresses the same way."

  “That's not true, and you know it.” She straightened, facing him as a flare of anger returned her strength.

  “I'm not a great lover, Tarralee, and I'm honest enough to admit it. I'm too damn selfish to worry about my partner's enjoyment. Think back, did I ever take the time to make sure you wanted what I did? Or did I force you to participate with the most ancient blackmail of all?"

  “I don't understand. I wanted what happened as much, or even more, than you did. What are you saying?"

  “I'm saying I seduced you without thought to the consequences. And that I would do it again if I thought I could get away with it."

  She felt the flush of blood stain her cheeks as his hateful words hit home. She couldn
't believe he was that callous, but the set of his jaw told her there was no sense arguing the point now. If what he was saying was true, lust was his only emotion. How could she have been such a fool; and why, despite everything, did she feel weak as he stared at her?

  “I didn't trick you, though, did I, Tyrone?” She watched his blue eyes widen. “I was honest tonight, even when I knew it would end what we shared."

  He shook his head. A puzzled expression entered his eyes. “You're not making sense, Tarry."

  “And you think you are, Tyrone?” Her voice rose. “You forget that I live so close to nature that I can read the changing of the seasons from a molted feather."

  “You think riddles are going to solve this problem, Tarralee?” He stuffed his hands in his pockets.

  “No, not riddles. I'm beginning to understand something, though, and I'm very happy it took me thirty years to lose my illusions. Good night, Tyrone.” She turned her back on him and walked to the closet. He stood still for another full minute as she went about collecting her nightshirt from the hanger.

  “So, you're dismissing me.” He said sourly without moving. “Queen of your castle. In control of everything. You're totally amazing. Five minutes ago you were a wounded kitten sniffling in my arms. Now you're pretending to—"

  “I'm not pretending anything, Tyrone. You're exactly what I originally thought, you were a conceited bully, a spoiled playboy, selfish and..."

  “And what?” he demanded as she hesitated.

  She faced him, holding the shirt pressed to her breasts. “And talented. That's right. Your gift has kept you sheltered from the reality and responsibilities of life too long. You've never been forced to pay for anything you've done. I know you thought you could arrive here after a month, and I would fall willingly into your arms. But you're dead wrong. I won't say I didn't enjoy our interlude earlier, but you're right. You are a selfish lover. I've found I like a bit more finesse with my caresses."

  Instinct warned her that she had touched a raw nerve inside him. It was fine for him to describe his sexual prowess, but it was not all right for her to be analytical about it.

  “And when did you find this out?"

  She smiled softly as if remembering something, or someone. “I'm not entirely alone on this mountain, Mr. Shields. There are other hermits who enjoy company once in awhile."

  “Are you saying you have a lover at last?"

  “I'm saying I'm no longer a fool, Tyrone, and I'm tired."

  “Of course, you are, how inconsiderate of me?” With that he walked toward the door. But before leaving he turned back and smiled at her. Tarry tried to read the dark expression that made his face so tense. “If you change your mind, lover, I usually hold class between eleven and two.” The sarcastic sting of his words flicked her on the raw and the flash of his teeth showed that he knew it. “Good night, Tarralee, sweet dreams."

  She knew they still needed to talk, but his voice brooked no further argument; and she knew she was too disturbed to make sense now. The terrible aching emptiness that had filled her during the past month was forgotten as a new pain seared her flesh. He wasn't as sensitive as she had thought, or he couldn't be so cruel or have been able to walk out on her at this point. Her throat felt raw as she looked at the door.

  His reaction shouldn't have surprised her, though, she realized as tears streaked her face. She had enough experience living with young boys and men to know that any obstacle placed in their path was either ignored or booted out of the way. Somehow, she was going to have to convince him that he loved her, as she loved him. But she knew enough about wild animals and men to know that only her love could guarantee the results.

  The sun was barely rising above the horizon when Tarralee awoke and stretched. She had spent a restless night tossing and turning, reliving the scene between her and Tyrone. She walked to the window. She yawned then a movement in the yard caught her attention.

  If there was one thing she had learned while raising a house full of men, it was the look of one who was depressed and worried. She wiped the condensation from the window and watched Tyrone kick at a lump of snow. So, he wasn't feeling any better than she was. She wondered if he was planning to leave today. It wouldn't surprise her if he did. What reason did he have for remaining? After last night she would be surprised if he ever talked to her again.

  He lounged against the railing of the corral and stared into space. His artistic face was dark. For the first time since she had met him, he looked vulnerable.

  What was she going to do about that look? And how on earth was she going to convince him that he loved her with the same commitment she felt? Her gaze rose to the white peaks and she drew a deep breath. It was now or never, she decided; and turning, she went to her closet and pulled down her warmest clothes.

  Tonight was Christmas Eve, and her brothers would be home. The thought made her smile. The mountain was beautiful, and life held too many challenges to be depressed today. Downstairs, she opened the door, and Rounder instantly stood up and grinned at her expectantly.

  “Okay, boy, you know the routine."

  Tarry touched his neck before he bounded off to the shed. She again filled the dogs’ bowls and broke the ice on their water. She whistled as she worked, never looking around the yard to see where Tyrone had disappeared to.

  It took the usual half-hour to tend to her chores, and when Rounder arrived at her side dragging the harness she laughed and hugged him.

  “So, you're a creature of habit."

  Tarry laughed at the ease with which the animals moved as they once again sped toward the lake. Her heart felt suddenly light and carefree. She decided that the holiday would be spent in the very best spirits. She would do everything to make everyone as gay and carefree as she wanted to feel. Possibly if she showed Tyrone what he would be missing without her, he would begin to understand why she could not accept his limited relationship.

  She arrived back at the barn just as she heard the whoop-whoop of the helicopter. She tied the dogs to the corral and raced across the yard to the landing zone. Charley set the craft down easily. Tarralee noticed that David and Michael came out of the house, but Tyrone was nowhere in sight. When the door opened on the chopper, it was John Huxley who first jumped out.

  Her youngest brother was the tallest of the Roessel children, and he completely dwarfed Tarry as he caught her up and swung her around in his arms. She was then subsequently passed hand-over-hand to her other brothers.

  “You big lugs.” She pushed her arms against Dwayne's shoulders. “Put me on the ground this minute. I'm not a toy.” Her brothers laughed but offered no help as Charley swung her onto his shoulder. “This is absurd. How will I cook breakfast?"

  She was laughing when Charley lowered her and planted a sweet kiss on her cheek.

  “In that case, little lady,” Charley easily dropped her the rest of the way to the ground, his grin speaking volumes. “Meet my wife. Remember, you invited us both for Christmas."

  Tarry was thrilled. She hugged Ramona.

  “You're beautiful!” she exclaimed. “I'm shocked Charley would bring you, knowing about my brothers."

  Ramona laughed. “Tarry, I feel like I've known you forever. I'm so pleased Charley insisted we come."

  It was then Tarry noticed Gary, Tyrone's nephew.

  “Gary, Tyrone didn't tell me you would be coming. This is wonderful. Oh, what a party we're going to have.” She caught the boy's hand and, laughing, ran to the house calling to the others, “Last man in doesn't get blueberry pancakes."

  After breakfast Dwayne pulled out the latest People magazine and began teasing her and Tyrone about an article that appeared within it. It offered rumors about their romance while Tarry had been in the big city. Tarry laughed and made light of the whole thing, giving nothing away; and Tyrone responded in the same manner. She could tell that their reaction puzzled her brothers and encouraged Michael. He made himself indispensable as the day wore on, proving to be a superior cook with a brig
ht, lively sense of humor that kept her laughing. Charley and her brothers were merciless when teasing Tyrone about his work and her. He accepted their ribbing good-naturedly, never giving away that the relationship between him and their sister was anything to take seriously.

  The afternoon was full of play. Four snowmen were built around the house. Sled rides and skiing filled in the hours until dark. Always, Tarry managed to be in the middle of the action, egging her brothers into more physical activities. Her size was completely forgotten in the fast-paced games.

  Christmas Eve dinner was a simple affair with food Tarry had prepared in advance. It was while she and Ramona were putting away the dishes that Ramona asked her how long Tyrone was planning to remain.

  “Oh, he mentioned he would like to stay until the first of the New Year. I'm hoping he will. It would make a wonderful birthday gift for me."

  “Your birthday is New Year's? Goodness, how thrilled your parents must have been. A little girl for New Year's after five boys."

  Tarry giggled. “Oh, no, I was the first. I'm older than the boys."

  “You're fooling me?” Ramona studied her new friend's face. “Impossible. You look years younger than John. How do you manage it?"

  “That's easy,” Tyrone walked in and spoke directly to Ramona, ignoring Tarry as he had all day. “It's hermit living and vegetables.” He picked up a cup and poured himself some hot chocolate.

  Ramona laughed. “Don't be cruel to Tarry, Ty. She's a doll."

  Tyrone's gaze rested on Tarry, and her heart flipped over with such yearning that she was afraid it showed on her face.

  “She is tiny, but packed with nuclear power.” This from Michael, who joined them.

  “Right,” Tyrone agreed, his gaze flicking between Tarry and Michael. “Watch your fingers, though—she burns,” he said as he exited.

  “What's eating him? He's been grouchy all day,” Ramona observed.

  Tarry smiled at her. “I suppose he's thinking about one of his projects. He hates distractions when he feels creative."

  Tarry justified his behavior, although she realized he might be jealous of Michael. That would have made her feel better except that Michael appeared to understand his role in the situation.