“A wonderful friend. I guess you could kind of say she’s like Santa Claus to everyone here, very giving. Aida usually brings clothing, non-perishables, and stuff like that when she stops by. Books, pens, paper and the like. She doesn’t come around too often but when she does,” Christopher waved a hand around, “this is the result. Come on, you’ll like her. She’s very easygoing.”
“I’ll be right there.”
Christopher stared at him with understanding. “Okay, see you inside.” He disappeared into the darkened inner recess.
Dane knew Christopher understood he was running from something, yet didn’t pry, and for that, Dane respected him immensely. Dragging his hand over his face, he paced back and forth. The beast within him stirred restlessly, chuffing with anticipation, of something he didn’t quite know. With a deep breath, he easily leaped up the steps and strode into the chaos reigning in the building.
His gaze found her immediately, and just as fast, he found himself without a breath. His animal scented her. Almost like she were prey. No. Not prey. Something else. Something more. So much more. But he knew. He knew. It was instinctual and emotional. Primeval and raw. Something he swore wouldn’t ever happen to him. She was his mate.
Mine!
The wave of possessiveness he’d experienced outside was nothing like the one that broadsided him now. His knees shook, and he had to lock them so he remained on his feet. He fought the longing to cry aloud and make it well known that she belonged to him. His canines began to extend, and he forced himself to retain control.
She stood at the far end of the building, Christopher beside her with boxes of things set out before her. Boxes parents were digging through and removing items to hand to the many anxious children. Dane watched as she gave her full attention to person after person who hugged her, adult and children alike.
While she talked, he observed. Perhaps ogled would be a better word. Skin the color of rich brown ochre covered her curvaceous body. Wavy dark brown hair with coppery highlights sat gathered up off her neck, a few wisps stuck to her face courtesy of the heat. She wore a pale green tank top and dark, dusty pants. He could smell her. Her scent—cinnamon, vanilla, and soft apples—reached him. Lust raged through him.
Look at me!
The command went unanswered. Dane stepped farther in the room, and her head lifted slowly, finally allowing their gazes to meet. A pair of intoxicating brown eyes with flecks of gold scattered through them stared at him. He was lost as her eyes widened and languorously moved down his body and back up again. Dane remained motionless, waiting until she finished her perusal of him.
Solnyshko moyo. My sun.
But more than just that. She was his.
My mate.
####
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Bio:
Aliyah Burke is an avid reader and is never far from pen and paper (or the computer). She loves to hear from her readers and can be reached here, or feel free to apply to join her yahoo group. If you visit her website, please don’t forget to sign the guestbook. She is married to a career military man, they have a German Shepherd, two Borzois, and a DSH cat. Her days are spent sharing her time between work, writing, and dog training/showing/racing.
Other titles by Aliyah Burke
His Purrfect Mate
Hearth, Honor, & Holly
What the Earl Desires
Her Reluctant Viscount
Something Tangible
Under the Mask
That Fateful Ride
On the High Seas (in What White Boyz Desire anthology)
Kincade’s Rose (Megalodon Team, Book 1)
Harrier’s Healer (Megalodon Team, Book 2)
Connelly’s Flame (Megalodon Team, Book 3)
Greeley’s Spyce (Megalodon Team, Book 4)
Vittano’s Willow (Megalodon Team, Book 5)
Dimitri’s Moon (Megalodon Team, Book 6)
O’Shea’s Love (Megalodon Team, Book 7)
Chayton’s Tempest (Megalodon Team, Book 8)
The Detective’s Lover
Born To Fly: Landing In Love
Born To Fly: You Save Me
Born To Fly: Wild As The Wind
Just A Dream
Add A Little Mistletoe
Sin Is Not A Four-Letter Word
Seducing Damian
Casanova In Training (In Aeternum, Book 1)
Harbour of Refuge (In Aeternum, Book 2)
Temporary Home (Interludes, Book 1)
Through The Fire
A Marriage Of Convenience (also in Camouflaged Hearts anthology)
The Lieutenant’s Ex-Wife (Code of Honour series, Book 1)
A Man Like No Other (Code of Honour series, Book 2)
When Stars Collide (Code of Honour series, Book 3)
Love Under the Endless African Sky (also in Coming Together: At Last Vol. 2)
Dutch & Lobo (in the In the Trenches anthology)
Co-authored with McKenna Jeffries:
Wicked Burn (part of Hearts Afire: August)
All the Wright Moves (McKingley series, Book 1)
The Best Thing Yet (McKingley series, Book 2)
Risky Pleasures (McKingley series, Book 3)
Pure Harmony (McKingley series, Book 4)
McKingley Vol. 1 – print
Co-authored with Taige Crenshaw:
Talios
Devi
Linc
Saffron
Taber
Ashia
*~*~*~*
Christmas Angel
By USA Today Bestselling Author
Opal Carew writing as
Amber Carew
Christmas Angel
By USA Today Bestselling Author
Opal Carew writing as
Amber Carew
Given one chance to break the curse which has held Angelique in its grip for two hundred years, she is faced with a heart-rending decision. Can she sacrifice the happiness of the man she loves for her own freedom?
Nick Berringer’s life is turned upside down when a very sexy angel stumbles into his life—and his bed—to make this the most memorable Christmas of his life.
Angelique has been alone for one hundred and fifty years. The closest to heaven she has ever been is in Nick’s arms. How can she sacrifice Nick’s happiness—and his life—for her own freedom?
Praise for Christmas Angel
5 Hearts!
"CHRISTMAS ANGEL is an enchanting story that springs with incredible emotions. Carew takes two likeable characters and weaves a delicious tale with believability, tender love and affection that laces with electric sparks. She pens a most remarkable read that will make you cry, laugh and applaud with elation while making your heart leap. I love every story that she fashions."
Linda L, The Romance Studio
4 Blue Ribbons!
"This book is full of emotions… it enthralled me with the passion. All in all, CHRISTMAS ANGEL was a most wonderful story. It makes you believe in miracles, laugh, cry and then shout for joy. Since this is the first book I have read from Carew, I look forward to reading more of her books."
Natasha Smith, Romance Junkies
Four Angels!
"…interesting plot twist on a Christmas story… heart wrenching… a powerful addition to the romance holiday genre and one sure to please the most avid of readers and romance enthusiasts."
Anita, Fallen Angel Reviews
"Carew's CHRISTMAS ANGEL is a sweet, yet scorching story of the consequences of love."
Trang, eCataRomance
Dedication
To my family
Prologue
"Angelique. I want to help you."
The words startled Ang
elique.
She stared into the darkness, trying to breach the fog surrounding her memories. Her body felt cold and stiff. With alarm, she realized she couldn’t move her arms or legs.
Green branches spread out below her. Panic welled up inside her as she began to remember things. Tremors started inside her.
She glanced at the large picture window, the blinds drawn wide, the lit tree reflected in the glass. There, on top, sat a blond glittering angel dressed in white. An angel who could neither move, nor smile. No one knew the pain that angel felt. The suffering she’d endured over two centuries.
Tears prickled Angelique’s eyes. Tears she could not shed. Because that angel was her.
"Who are you?" Angelique asked the voice.
A wispy, shapeless form floated toward her.
"I am an angel."
Angel? The thought sent shudders through Angelique. It was one thing to know—by personal experience—that the supernatural existed. It was quite another to come face to face with it.
"Do you remember Bertrand?" a voice asked her.
Memories lurched through her mind like stones in a landslide, one over another, violent in their momentum.
Long ago, she had been in love with a man named Bertrand. She remembered the loving look in his eye and the gentle touch of his hand on hers when he had proposed to her. She had accepted joyously and melted into his arms.
When Bertrand had slipped the ring on Angelique’s finger, panic had gripped her. A strong sense of foreboding filled her, and she felt cold, as if the life were being sucked out of her. Instinctively, she’d known that it would steal her happiness and destroy her life. Before it reached her knuckle, she had jerked away, shaking her head.
"I was with you then," the angel said. "I warned you."
The wispy shape moved closer, then hovered in front of her.
"You see, the Berringer men are cursed. An engagement ring carries the curse from generation to generation. Every time a Berringer male finds the woman he was meant to love and slips the ring on her finger, his love flickers out and dies. Like a candle snuffed out by the wind. I did not want that sad existence for you, Angelique. Unfortunately, I didn’t know the horrible fate that would be thrust upon you when you refused the ring."
Angelique remembered all too clearly what happened after she rejected the ring. She had been slammed in the gut by a powerful force, crushing the air from her lungs. She had felt herself shrink. Her whole body had turned rigid until she could not move at all. She could not draw in a breath. Panic had overwhelmed her as she’d tried to breath, knowing if she didn’t she would suffocate.
But she didn’t suffocate. Mercilessly, the despicable magic of the ring had stolen her life without letting her die. She had been transformed into a tree-top angel, cursed to sit atop a Christmas tree every Christmas season, with a lifeless body, but all the emotions and consciousness of a real person.
"As soon as you became a tree-top angel, the ring erased you from Bertrand’s memory, thus protecting him from the rejection of love. You became a family heirloom, passed through the generations."
Angelique glanced around the masculine apartment laid out below her, filled with the sparkle of Christmas. The style was eclectic, accommodating contemporary pieces alongside antiques she recognized from generations of Berringer homes. Many she hadn’t seen since the divorce of George Berringer and his wife, Elise. They’d had two boys. Peter, a toddler at the time, had gone with his mother. So had Angelique.
After his mother’s death two years ago, Peter had made plans to move to Australia. She recognized the grandfather clock in the corner and a few other items from Peter’s small country cottage. He must have passed her on to his brother in Canada.
Nick. That was the other boy’s name. He’d be a man now, but she remembered the wide-eyed, curious boy who used to read books by the fire and would laugh and play games with his younger brother, Peter. He’d had such patience with his younger sibling. His adoration for his brother had been very clear. Angelique had been saddened to see them parted.
"Why are you helping me now?" Angelique asked.
"Because not the time is right," the angel answered vaguely.
Hope swelled in Angelique’s heart.
"Will you break this dreadful curse and turn me back to human form?"
"It’s not quite that simple."
Angelique sighed. Of course not.
"The curse can’t simply be broken, but it can be shifted. I will return you to human form—temporarily—to accomplish this."
Elation glittered through her. The thought of being human once again pulsed through her! The angel’s words, however, troubled her.
"Shifted? You mean, another person would take my place as an angel?"
"If the eldest Berringer male takes your place," the angel explained, "the ring, and its magic, will go with him, never to harm another soul. There are only two Berringers left, but if the ring—and its curse—are gone, the family will heal and grow again. Isn’t one man’s fate worth the future of an entire family?"
A queasy feeling stirred in her belly at the thought of condemning anyone to the fate she’d suffered so long, but the angel’s logic was persuasive. For centuries, she’d seen the pain in the eyes of the Berringer men and their wives. If she could stop that pain, she had to do it.
"What must I do?"
"When you refused the ring two hundred years ago, the curse entrapped you. To reverse the curse now, you must accept the ring from Nicholas Berringer."
"Why would Nicholas Berringer offer me the ring? He doesn’t even know me."
"You must make him fall in love with you. When he proposes and slips the ring on your finger, he will turn into a Christmas angel. You have until midnight on Christmas day."
"Two days! How will I make him fall in love with me in only two days?"
Silence hung between them like a thick layer of fog.
"Remember, Angelique. If you fail, you will return to your current form and this generation of the Berringer family will be the last."
Angelique’s brain seemed to flood with fog and the last words she heard the angel say were, "Brace yourself. It’ll take some time to adapt to being human again."
Extreme disorientation gripped her and her mind blanked.
Chapter 1
A loud clatter jolted Nicholas Berringer from a sound sleep. He sat up and shoved his fingers through his hair, pushing it back off his face, waiting for any other sound to give him a clue as to what had awakened him. A clunk, definitely from the next room, sent Nick scrambling to his feet. He rushed to the bedroom door and cautiously pushed it open. He fully expected to come face-to-face with an armed burglar.
To his total surprise, he stood gazing at an angel.
He blinked, then shook his head.
The beautiful woman standing in the middle of his living room wore a white gown that glittered in the moonlight, with soft waves of pale blond hair floating to her hips, and wings of downy white feathers that looked so real he could almost swear they were a part of her.
"Who are you?" His voice came out in a whispered tone, full of awe.
What was wrong with him? Bowled over by some woman dressed in an angel costume who had broken into his home!
He drew up his shoulders and demanded, "What are you doing here?"
Her large, luminescent eyes blinked a couple of times.
"I … do not know," she said in a lilting French accent.
Her words, like a half-forgotten melody from his childhood, washed over him in gentle waves. That voice stirred something deep inside him.
Damn. He had to shake himself out of it! She might look like an angel, but Nicholas didn’t believe in angels. In fact, he didn’t believe in much of anything, especially when it came to women.
"What do you mean, you don’t know? Do you always walk into other people’s apartments in the middle of the night?"
Her fingertips grazed the velvet, paisley cushion on the arm of his burgundy
leather sofa as she glanced around in bewilderment, then her fingers clutched the back of the couch as if needing the support to keep standing.
"I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude."
He stepped forward to stand beside the loveseat across from her. As he passed his brother’s gleaming mahogany grandfather clock, he noticed the time. Two in the morning!
Her eyes widened and she stepped backward and bumped into the tree, which started to topple sideways. Nicholas leaped forward and grabbed it just before it knocked over the stained glass lamp on the occasional table. He set the tree back in place.
She seemed a little inept to be a thief.
Maybe she’d been drinking? She may have gone to a Christmas party—some costume affair from the look of her outfit—and overdone it.
He retrieved two glittering glass ball ornaments, which had rolled across the taupe carpet and bumped against the raised hearth of the fireplace, then re-hung them on the tree branches.
Maybe she’d gotten confused and mistaken his door for hers. But how had she unlocked it?
He surveyed her face—heart shaped, with a pert little nose and full, inviting lips—and the bluest eyes he’d ever seen. Wide and bewildered.
"Do you live in the building?"
"No, I do not think so."
She stepped forward and stumbled on the hem of her skirt. He reached out and caught her elbow so she wouldn’t fall and she leaned against him for support. The warm softness of her body against his sent his hormones into an uproar. His blood shot straight to his groin and his cock started to swell.
He eased her to her feet and released her immediately, concentrating on reigning in the tumultuous effect she had on him.
Her lips turned up in a delicate smile.
"Merci."
Despite the powerful sexual effect she had on him, she seemed quite fragile. An intense feeling of protectiveness he’d never known he possessed surged through him. Her effect on him certainly was unusual.
A Naughty Little Christmas (Cowboys, Cops, and Kilts: 8 Seasonally Seductive Romances from Bestselling Authors) Page 23
