Christmas Paradise

by Gale Storm

  “I didn't know. When...?"

  He brought his head down and kissed her.

  “You've always talked too much, Tarralee,” he whispered against her lips.

  The aching awareness of her need trembled on her fingertips as she ran them through his hair and responded with her whole heart as he continued to kiss her. She knew what he needed. She was too feminine to deny him or to let logic rule her reactions. He had obviously come straight to her after arriving home. The exhaustion that made lines around his eyes and the paleness of his skin told their stories about the past four weeks. She really didn't need answers when she knew he had come to her first.

  When she opened her eyes again, she stared at the morning light slipping through her curtained window. For a second or two she remembered the dream, then a movement beside her brought her gaze to a pair of faded blue eyes.

  “Oh!” she gasped. It hadn't been a dream, or a fantasy. He was here beside her.

  “Good morning,” he said in a deep, warm voice and smiled. He lifted himself on one elbow, his naked body brushing hers in the bed. She knew he had awakened her with his scrutiny, and that the exploration wasn't merely visual. His long-fingered hand was resting on the inside of her thigh.

  “Don't.” Tarry pushed his hand away as she sat up.

  With one swift move, he wrapped his arm around her torso and threw his body over hers, effectively pinning her to the mattress. “What's to be shy about, lover? You know that we were made for each other, physically as well as mentally. Don't lie there brooding in the aftermath of a very natural reaction to our being together again."

  “I know,” but she didn't look at him. There were so many things they needed to straighten out, so many questions she needed answered. But he was kissing her shoulder, trying to distract her. When she didn't respond, he lifted his head and studied her averted profile.

  “Look, I'll go down and make us some coffee, shall I? It might be better if we talked with our clothes on.” There was a wicked huskiness in his voice that taunted her nerves.

  “Thank you,” she said politely as he rolled to a sitting position, reaching for his discarded shirt and pulling it around his shoulders. Her eyes followed every movement he made, and she knew he was aware of it.

  He stood and casually pulled on a pair of brown slacks then bent and tweaked her nose. “Don't look at me like that, midget, and don't be polite. It doesn't suit your indomitable spirit.” He grinned as he let himself out of the room.

  She closed her eyes tight. What am I to say to him? she wondered before opening them again. How was she to explain that she couldn't be his mistress? That she wouldn't allow her love to be used that way?

  She dressed and washed the night from her face before going downstairs to face him. He was whistling as she leaned against the doorjamb watching him. He looked so handsome, so virile and all male. It made her heart quake. He turned and saw her in the doorway and the smile he gave her made her knees shake. She walked to the table, her eyes on the cup he placed in front of her. He sat across from her.

  “Tarry...?"

  “Tyrone...?"

  Their eyes met, hers nervous and unsure, his twinkling with humor as they both spoke at once.

  “You first,” Tyrone offered graciously.

  “How did you know I'd be here?"

  “Easy, sweetheart, after checking the guest house and finding all the dogs gone, I knew the only place you would come would be here. Aren't you going to ask why I followed?"

  “There's no reason to ask that, it's obvious,” she stated, calmly taking a small sip of the coffee.

  “No, I don't think it is obvious. Oh, well, that might not be completely correct.” He grinned mischievously as their gazes met. “Part of it is obvious, and you were beautiful last night. So giving and responsive to me—no questions, just all love and caring, all woman. I hope and pray it will always be like that."

  “It will never be like that again.” Her voice was very quiet, masking her agitation; but she did not hesitate over the words. They had to be said, and the sooner spoken, the sooner he would understand the situation as she saw it. He was silent until she finally met his gaze. Shock registered in his eyes, as he shook his head.

  “What do you mean? Why not?” The humor was completely gone now; and his eyes, usually so calm and blue, narrowed to pinpoints.

  “I told you before that I can't play games. I won't even try. It will be easier if we don't get started."

  “Games?"

  “I told you, I'm not sophisticated like your other lovers. I can't turn it on and off like a switch. It would be best if we never saw each other again."

  “Is that all?” he said, suddenly smiling, humor returning to his voice “Thank God. I thought you had found someone else while I was gone.” He reached across the wooden table, taking her hand and kissing the back of it. “You're not equivalent to a frozen meal, Tarralee my love—warm and ready to eat within a quarter of an hour, plastic, unreal, briefly satisfying, but forgotten an hour later. I couldn't forget you in a century and I wouldn't want to."

  Her eyes widened. What was he saying? Could she be hearing correctly?

  “You've been feeling guilty because I couldn't return the same feelings that you so generously gave me when you first allowed yourself to go to bed with me, haven't you, Tarralee?"

  She nodded, her eyes dropping to the cup again. Her shyness ended as he continued, making her look at him.

  “And I was like an express train, dominating the scene, as usual. Directing the outcome to my desires, not thinking about anyone else's reactions except my own. I warned you. I'm a selfish man, Tarry, and a selfish, jealous lover. I'll even be a worse husband."

  She could hardly believe her ears. “A what?"

  “There I go again. I've already decided you're going to be my wife, and I haven't asked you yet."

  “Do you really want a wife?” She was still finding it hard to believe he was here in front of her, his thumb making soft, worried circles on the back of her hand.

  “Not just any wife. I want you. I love you, Tarry, completely and forever. Oh, I fought against it; and like a jackass, I made sure you felt guilty about my qualms. It took seeing Linda and Paul apart, and then together, to know I was making an incredible mistake with you.” His eyes were sincere and his words had her heart pounding once more. “I was so afraid of losing you while I was in Turkey that I made you promise to look after my family. I knew if you gave me your word about that, at least you would be with them when I returned. Then yesterday, when I did arrive, no one knew where you were at first. I was angry, then devastated until we found your brief note. I knew it was my own fault that you left, and I knew if I didn't find you immediately I was done for. So, I drove all night to get here and luckily found you nestled under the covers here in your sanctuary closeted in the mountains. When I saw ten canine eyes I knew I had been right, but it took every ounce of courage I have to face you this morning."

  She wasn't sure who moved first, but the next moment she was sitting in his lap kissing his forehead, nose, mouth and eyes. He was doing the same.

  “What made you decide?” she asked when they at last pulled apart.

  “Oh, I knew from the very first moment I saw you that I wanted you in my life, Tarralee. I was just too used to having everything my way. I was a thoughtless fool, afraid to make a commitment because I was fearful of being hurt. When I arrived home yesterday and you weren't there, everything suddenly became clear to me. I realized what I had put you through, and I knew I had to find you and apologize immediately. It took you to show me that I couldn't be a dictator forever. Can you forgive me?"

  “But you said you were against marriage and commitment?"

  “I know what I said. I was against it, for all the wrong reasons. I guess I was saving face, and saving face for a man can be everything. You see, always in the past when I was involved with a woman I kept asking myself, what does she want from me? And the answer always had been money, powe
r, position, sex. You, on the other hand, never wanted anything from me, making big issues out of everything I tried to give you, making me feel a heel by taking the only thing that was yours to give freely, your love. It was horribly unfair to ask you to look after my family while I was in Turkey. I wanted to apologize and ask your forgiveness in person when I got back."

  She ran her hands through his hair, touching his beard. “Forgiveness is a part of love, Tyrone, and I do love you. I'll always love you."

  “Thank God,” he breathed against her forehead. “I would never have made it back from Turkey if I hadn't been sure that you cared for me. I love you, too, child-woman of the mountains. I've never loved like this before, and I don't think I could ever love this way again."

  He held her tight, their breath blending as they stared into each other's eyes. A paw scratched the door, and Tarry finally glanced away.

  “They're hungry,” she explained, looking at him.

  “They aren't starving. I'm starving, Tarry. I've been on a killer diet without you these past months."

  She laughed. “I thought you looked skinny when you put on your slacks."

  “Talk about skinny,” he chuckled. “I'll probably not only be accused of marrying a child, but an unhealthy one at that. You must have lost fifteen pounds since we met, and you were tiny before. But then, once I hire us a chef, I'm sure we'll both put on weight."

  “Talking about hunger pains...” She looked toward the door as a chorus of whines and barks announced the pack's appetite. “I do have a responsibility to them; and besides, if they get much wilder, they'll knock the door down."

  “Before I let you go, I need to ask if there is anyone you think I should ask for your hand in marriage?"

  She laughed, feeling suddenly lightheaded. “Only the dogs."

  His brow rose a fraction then he lifted her in his arms and strode to the door. His lips caressed hers as he opened it, walking into the circle of dogs.

  “You know this is forever, Tarralee, don't you? Don't think of backing out.” His voice was husky-soft as he nibbled her neck.

  “I'm the one that demanded forever, Tyrone. You just remember that."

  “I'm sure you'll remind me if I ever forget.” He winked at her as the dogs followed them into the yard. “I've missed you. It's been horrible without you. I wanted to call every minute, but everything was so crazy I just couldn't depress myself by hearing your sweet, husky voice. You did miss me, didn't you?"

  “Of course—didn't your folks tell you?"

  “They didn't get the chance. When I arrived and found you gone I started a wild search to find you."

  “I didn't know you were home. Were you in the car that came up to the house yesterday afternoon?"

  “No, that was Paul. I arrived about an hour later."

  “If I had known..."

  He kissed her cheek.

  “If you had known, we would have had the entire family to interfere in our reunion. I don't need any competition from them. I've already got enough with the dogs."

  She laughed, kissing him as he dropped her to her feet. She nodded at the pack as she cautioned him. “They'll be jealous once they understand you've become my mate."

  “I once read that wolves mate for life.” He knelt before Rounder, solemnly staring the dog in the eye. “I've asked Tarry to marry me, old boy. What do you think about that?"

  Rounder tilted his head as if thinking about the words then he leaned forward and gave Tyrone a wet lick across the lips. Tarry laughed at the surprised look on his face.

  “Do you think he understood me?” He looked up at her, and she nodded.

  “He just gave you his blessing. But remember, if you ever take back your offer, wolves can, and will, turn into werewolves."

  His eyes sparkled at her; then he was kissing her and nothing but the thrill of happiness remained within Tarry. He loved her. She loved him. He had from the first moment. They would forever.

  The End

  About the Author

  Gale Storm is the Pseudonym for Marilyne V. Mabery. Marilyne wrote her first romance in elementary school for her classmates. She wrote her first published short story at the ripe age of twelve. By fourteen she was a contributing writer for several newspapers and state magazines. In college she had her first romance novel published. She is now a prolific author of nonfiction works for the National Parks, self-help manuals, PBS video documentaries, newspaper and magazine columnist, and for fun she still creates romances that pit smart women against the odds of life in the new century, and handsome unsuspecting professional men with baggage all their own.

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