by Molly Wens
"Nope, took care of that,” Donnan said, taking the leash from his son. “Got one of those dog walkers to come in. S'posed to be waiting in the lobby."
Hooking the leash on the collar of the large dog, Donnan waited for Bryce to open the door, snapping the leash sharply when Skoll tried to take control. The animal recognized the older man's authority and fell into step along side him.
"Why, this dog is gentle as a kitten, Bryce. Don't know why you can't control him on a leash."
"Cute, Dad. Don't push me today, okay?” Bryce grumbled as they reached the elevator. Once they had boarded, it swiftly moved downward, stopping at the fifth floor. The doors opened to an older couple who took one look at Skoll's snarling muzzle and declined to enter. Bryce punched brutally at the buttons, willing the doors to close again.
When they finally reached the bottom and the doors opened, a shy young woman wearing a T-shirt that said, “Playtime Pals Pet Sitting” stood uncertainly near the exit. Bryce thought that she did not appear big enough to walk herself, let alone a dog that outweighed her by at least forty pounds.
Donnan stepped up to the woman and offered a warm handshake, making certain that she was there for Skoll. She smiled, a faint blush creeping along her neck as she put her coat on and turned to the dog. Immediately, she started cooing and the dog's tail was set to wagging. It was no problem for the animal to reach up and lick her face without raising his front legs off the floor.
Bryce took the leash from his father, pulling Skoll back from the diminutive woman. “I don't know about this. Skoll doesn't really like too many people. He could end up taking after someone and dragging you down the road."
The woman smiled again, “Sir, I've been doing this for ten years and I haven't lost a dog—or a body part—yet. Don't worry, I'm a professional."
She took hold of the leash, pulling it from Bryce's reluctant fingers and heading for the exit. When Skoll tried to bolt in his excitement, she gave the leash a gentle tug. Bryce watched in amazement as the dog fell obediently into step beside her, taking from her hand the treat she offered.
"See there? No problems. Even Skoll meets his match with a woman,” Donnan laughed, guffawing at his own joke, clapping his son on the back. “Let's get upstairs and get ourselves a table. We can wait in the restaurant for that news guy to get here."
Sitting his chair near the window of the restaurant, looking at that street that would lead him to Carissa, Bryce could do little more than stir impatiently as they awaited the arrival of the Davidson's. “Remind me why you decided to take up Davidson's offer of breakfast. I just want to get going."
Donnan sighed, becoming frustrated with his son's impatience. “Because he will take us to your Carissa's house, that's why. Just settle down. It won't be long now."
"Hello, gentlemen,” a voice said from behind. “Merry Christmas. I trust you slept well?"
"Yeah, just great,” Bryce grumbled, grudgingly standing to shake Chris Davidson's hand.
"Don't mind my son,” Donnan offered as he greeted Chris. “He seems to have a nasty case of the humbugs this morning."
"That's all right,” Davidson answered. “Let me introduce my wife, Karen. Karen, this is Donnan Matheney, and this is the famous Bryce Matheney."
Bryce tried to stifle his irritation as he shook hands with the tall woman and offered her a chair. Within moments, he was ushering the little party to the plentiful buffet, ladling food onto his plate and rushing the others along. He wolfed down his meal, not bothering to taste it, and encouraging his companions to do the same.
Donnan exchanged amused glances with Davidson, watching as the younger Matheney called for the check before the others were finished with their coffee. He pushed his chair back and tossed some cash on the table, pulling his coat off the back of the chair. Karen Davidson joined her husband and Bryce's father in laughter as the young man headed for the exit, not waiting to see if they followed.
They waited in the lobby for the pet sitter to return Skoll, the dog shaking off the melting flakes of ice as soon as he was indoors. Bryce fairly tossed twice the money she required into the woman's face as he snatched the dog's leash away and headed for the door. He was irritable, waiting next to the blanketed Cadillac before the others had crossed the parking lot.
The group took separate cars, the Davidsons in the lead, as they drove to Carissa's house. Bryce felt nervous as a schoolboy ready for his first date, and he wasn't enjoying it a bit. The snow on the road forced the two cars to move at a much slower pace than he could stand, though the snowplows had already been through. Chris had assured him that it would not be a long drive, but it certainly seemed that way to him.
Finally, Chris Davidson turned off the highway and into a pretty subdivision. The houses were well spaced, alight with merry, twinkling decorations, casting a mystical quality upon the snow in the gray morning. A few children darted about the neighborhood, enjoying the holiday snow, as only kids can do.
All of this was lost on Bryce whose only objective was to find Carissa, see that light in her eyes that he had once seen before he sent her away. Bryce let out a miserable groan as the cars slowly wound their way through the twisting streets to the back of the quarters over the pristine layer of sparkling white.
"Am I doing the right thing here, Dad?"
Donnan patted his son's knee, a small gesture intended to reassure. “We'll soon see, Bryce. Just take it one step at a time, and for God's sake, think before you speak."
Bryce offered his father a shaky, wry smile. “Thanks, Pop."
* * * *
The wooden spoon moved in slow, lazy orbits through the thick soup, a delectable fragrance wafting on the puffs of steam that curled upward from the simmering pot. A memory flooded her mind on the heels of that aroma, a memory that shook her with its intensity.
As she stood at the stove in her kitchen, Carissa thought of that night, when Bryce had come up behind her as she stirred a similar brew, his hands slipping into the folds of the soft blanket that had covered her against the chill of a winter-locked cabin. The touch of his callused hands on her skin was still fresh in her mind, his heat still warming her flesh. A flush crept up her neck, staining her cheeks with color, when she remembered what happened on the table that night, after they had abandoned the soup for more intimate pursuits.
Sighing, she lifted the spoon from the soup, settling the lid on the pot and laying the utensil on a plate beside the stove. With a peek in the oven to assure herself that the bread was not baking too fast, she turned to pick up her cup of tea. Where is Bryce?
Her large cat, Blondie, wove between her ankles, purring sweetly and begging for a morsel to delight his palate. Carissa had to scoot the cat aside to keep from tripping over him. She soothed his ruffled dignity with a scratch behind the ear before turning to set her cup down again.
She had called the hotel several times, only to be told that there was no answer in Bryce's room. After a restless night spent alternating between tossing on her bed and pacing throughout the house, Carissa had become almost maudlin about the situation.
"Cari, why don't you go sit with the children,” her mother coaxed. “You look completely worn out. Did you sleep at all last night?"
Fighting back tears, the younger woman only shook her head, casting her eyes downward to gaze sadly at the floor.
"Aw, Honey, it'll be all right. I know it will."
"I hope so, Mama,” Carissa murmured, wishing she believed her mother.
A keening sound, much like the howl of a wolf, caught her attention, snapping her head up. Within moments, the younger of her two children ran into the kitchen, crying pitiably, reaching for her mother.
"Zane says Santa won't bring me presents. He says Santa hates me,” she wailed as Carissa lifted her tiny body.
She cuddled her daughter close, shushing the child and stroking her back to soothe her heartache. “What a terrible thing to say. Why don't I just go have a talk with him?"
"You have to spank h
im, Mommy. He's bad,” the little girl wailed enthusiastically.
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Chapter 23
Carissa had her hands full, refereeing the dueling siblings, when the doorbell rang. Alice walked to the foyer, answering the door and allowing her daughter time to work with the kids. Carissa heard the muted greeting and the sounds of feet entering the house.
"Stay here, kids, and behave,” Carissa said before moving to find out what was happening. “Who is it, Mom?” she asked as she rounded the corner. “Chris, Karen—how nice to see you. Merry Christmas,” she said upon seeing her visitors.
As Carissa neared the open door, she saw something very large and black dance past. She lost all interest in what the Davidsons were saying as she excused herself to investigate further. Condensation from the warm air of the house was collecting on the windows of the screen door, prompting her to push it open so that she might better see.
All at once, a huge, drooling pile of fur bounded through the door, nearly swamping her with his massive tongue. “Skoll!” she screeched, bending to hug the wiggling dog. She still had her arms about the beast when she saw Bryce's father pull the door open again, stepping through with a grin on his face. Releasing her grip on Skoll's neck, she reached a shaky hand out to the man, a question in her eyes.
Donnan, still grinning, inclined his head toward the driveway. “He's getting the gifts."
Carissa glanced at the smiling faces collected in front of her, then turned her head to glance through the foggy panes. “Mom, this is Donnan Matheney, Bryce's father,” she murmured absently, before stepping through the door.
The snow was still descending from the sky, its sticky flakes adhering to her hair and clothing. The world, cloaked in a muting, white blanket, added to the surrealism of the moment when Bryce stepped from behind the open trunk lid of the silver Cadillac in the drive. Her eyes locked with his as the two stood still with a few feet of ground and the whole world between them.
Carissa took the first halting steps, her eyes never leaving his, wanting to rush into his arms but feeling suddenly shy. She watched as he took another step, approaching her slowly. Everything, even the sounds of a cat screeching and a dog barking, amid the crashing of glass and furniture within the house, went unnoticed as their silent glances spoke immeasurably.
At long last they were within touching distance, neither of them reaching, both of them longing. There was so much that Carissa wanted to say, but had no words. Bryce was beautiful to her eyes, his tall frame towering over her, his dark gaze imprisoning her heart.
With her face turned up to see his, the feathery snow fell on her bare skin, adhering to her lashes, causing her to blink against the icy wetness. Bryce raised one large hand to brush the flakes from her eyes, causing Carissa to whimper softly, almost imperceptibly at his warm touch.
Like the snow, she melted into him as his arms wrapped around her shivering frame, dragging her against his hard body. His head dipped low, his lips descending slowly, his movements fluid and almost predatory. She sensed, more than heard, the low growl that rumbled in his chest, his hand sliding up her back, his fingers digging into her hair and pinning her head. His mouth crushed hers in a brutal kiss born of savage desperation, while his arms gripped her tightly against his muscular frame.
She was trapped against him, her hands caught between them with her fingers digging through the front of his open coat, into the fabric of his shirt. She felt his tongue stab into her mouth, seeking and finding all the hidden treasures within. The hardness of his need pressed against her belly, pushing deeply into her soft flesh through the knit of her sweater, melding against her with the fire that swept through them.
"Jesus,” he hissed against her lips when the kiss finally ended, both gasping for precious oxygen. His mouth captured hers again, this time more tenderly. Carissa gave herself to him as she had in the cabin in the high wilderness, without hesitation, feeling only the pleasure of his touch.
Bryce released her mouth again, tugging at her hair, pulling her head back to better see her face. From some distance away, Carissa heard the front door of her house closing and the resounding click of the latch as the noises from inside faded. The man who held her, who held her heart in his hands, lifted her against him, dragging her feet from the snow, and carrying her to the open trunk of the car. He set her upon its contents, amid the crinkle of plastic bags and the rustle of paper and cardboard.
He bent low over her, to slide his lips over hers and along the line of her jaw, finding the petal-soft skin of her throat and tasting it with his tongue. One hand, hot despite the chill of the morning air and the falling snow, wound under her sweater, cupping her breast as she moaned his name.
Carissa could feel the tips of his fingers as they slid under the elastic of her bra, causing her to whimper as he worked his way inside the cup to find her nipple. Somewhere in the back of her mind, a tiny voice whispered a warning, told her to stop him. With all her might, she tried to squelch that voice, wanting to ignore it and let the moment continue, but that warning grew louder, refusing to be denied.
"Bryce,” she rasped, pushing her hands weakly at his chest.
His head rose above her, his smoldering eyes wary as they met hers. “Carissa...” his husky voice trailed away into the muting snow.
"We can't do this,” she breathed, wanting so much for his hands and mouth to continue their pleasurable exploration. She watched as the passion in his eyes ebbed away into lonely disappointment. Reaching out to touch the scars on his face, she smiled brightly, a hint of amusement dancing in her eyes. “We're not on a mountaintop here, big man. This isn't the open wilderness. I have neighbors."
Her words startled him, had him looking around at the busy neighborhood and the children that played in the snowy yards. He laughed aloud, grabbing her in a bone-crushing hug. “I guess I forgot where I was for a minute. One look at you and I lose all control."
"That's encouraging,” she said, giggling against the front of his shirt. Shifting her position, she felt something sharp nudge her bottom. “What am I sitting on?"
Bryce refused to loosen his grip on her body as she tried to turn. “Gifts. Pop and I wanted to get the kids a few things, and your mom, too.” He raised his head to smile at her.
Carissa saw his grin, so boyish and charming that it made her giggle. “You're a sweetheart. The kids are going to love you—and Mom, too, as soon as she gets over being mad at you."
"What's she mad at me for?” he asked, frowning in his confusion and worry.
She laughed again, nuzzling into his chest, speaking in muted tones into the soft fabric of his shirt. “You made her little girl cry, silly. Why do you think?"
"I can see I'm going to have to pull all the stops out to win that one over. I'll show her my most charming side."
"Do you have one of those?” Carissa's joke earned her a slap on her bottom, making her wiggle against the gifts in the trunk. “I better get up before I break something.” She tried to pull herself off the packages but Bryce was not moving. “Hey,” she said, pulling her head back and giving him a pouting glance. “You said gifts for them. You didn't get anything for me?"
He kissed her again, softly pulling her lower lip into his mouth and suckling on it. He released her mouth and pressed his forehead against hers. “I got you something,” he whispered hoarsely. “I just wasn't sure you would want it."
Bryce kept one arm wrapped tightly about her ribs while he reached into his coat pocket with his other hand. He pulled a small velvet box out and held it up for her to see. “I ... I didn't ... Jesus, this is hard,” he hissed.
Her heart lurched in her chest when she saw the black velvet box, knowing what it was and knowing what it meant. She tilted her head back to see his face, and the uncertainty his eyes held. Her body began to shake, matching the tremor in his as she reached for his face again.
"After you left,” he said softly, his voice husky. “I ... I was a mess. I didn't know if I
was going to survive without you, and to be honest, I didn't want to try. Days went by before I could bring myself to dare to look at the cabin with you gone. I just sat there. I couldn't eat or sleep. I think I wanted to die.
"Then I found your note. Damn, I was pissed when I read it. I was mad at you for what you wrote—and I was mad at me for letting go of you. I left as soon as it was daylight. I was determined to find you and make you pay. But, then, when I was driving with my dad, I realized something. It took a long time for it to sink in, but when it did, it hit home hard.
"You said what you did—or wrote, anyway—because you knew it was the only way to light a fire under my ass.” He stopped, laughing at himself and taking a deep breath before plunging onward. “I suppose you know me better than I know myself.
"Something happened up on that mountain. When I found you and brought you in out of the weather, I thought I was helping someone who was in trouble. I thought I was saving a life to make up for the one I took.
"That's not what happened, though. It was you who saved me. You gave me shelter, not the other way around. I didn't think there was anything left within me to give or to feel, but you showed me that I was wrong. You gave me back my life and I don't ever want to live without you again. I never want to let you go again.
"I didn't come here for the baby, Carissa. I came here for you. I love you."
Bryce released Carissa only long enough to open the box in his hand, revealing the glittering diamond that caught in the gray light of the wintry day. Raising a shaking hand to her face, he laid his palm against her cheek, looking at her with eyes full of uncertain hope. “Carissa, marry me. Marry me and I will spend the rest of my life making you happy."
She pushed aside the hand that held the small jewelry case, reaching up to take his face in her hands. “I don't need expensive diamonds, Bryce. I only needed to hear you say the words. I'll marry you,” she said, watching his smoldering eyes, as that secret fire burned ever brighter. “God, yes, I'll marry you,” she squeaked as she threw her arms around his neck.
