Unwrapped Bundle with You Don't Know Jack & Bad Boys in Kilts

by Erin McCarthy

  “How about a new ski jacket then?” he asked.

  “The jacket I have is only a year old.”

  “Ski pants?”

  “I have two pair.”

  He looked to her foot. “You can’t try on boots.”

  “My UGGS will last another season.”

  “Cashmere cap, deerskin gloves, herringbone scarf?”

  She stared at him, shook her head. “Your suggestions amaze me. You’re an unusual mix of ski stud and retail supervisor. What drew you to Dutton’s?”

  It was his family’s store. He was expected to take over the helm someday, but it went beyond being a family tradition with him. Whether in sports or retail, he was a competitive man. At Dutton’s, the art of the sale was in his blood. Engaging the customer, showcasing the best the store had to offer, seeing someone’s eyes light up when he found exactly what the other person wanted. No matter the price. He loved making that happen. But he couldn’t tell Allie that. Not right now anyway.

  So he shrugged, hedged the truth. “I started out on the loading dock working holidays when I was sixteen. I nearly froze my ass off during the winter months and decided to move inside. I’m not a fashion hound but I do like nice clothes. I’ve a business degree from Northwestern. Retail seemed right for me.”

  She looked among the shadows, smiled. “You picked the most famous store in the country for employment.”

  “I thought so.”

  “You have the very best of everything at your fingertips.”

  He nodded. “Pretty much so.”

  He again caught her mental debate, followed by her sigh. “There’s no need to get me anything for Christmas.”

  He didn’t have to, but he wanted to.

  She didn’t have much and apparently didn’t want more.

  He pressed on. “Necklace, bracelet, earrings?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t wear jewelry when I ski.”

  “You ski year-round?”

  “I’m stateside November through March, then I travel to Australia or Argentina. Their winter is our summer. I’m on a mountain twelve months out of the year.”

  “Luggage, then?” crossed his mind.

  “My life fits in a backpack.”

  His heart sank. There it was again. That gnawing feeling that she could pick up and leave at a moment’s notice. Here today, gone tomorrow.

  Allie Smith was a hard person to shop for.

  He had an idea. “How about a gift exchange? I’ll pick out something for you, and you can select something for me.”

  “I don’t know your likes or dislikes.”

  “We’ll shop together and I’ll drop hints.” He grinned at her. “If you don’t like what I pick out, you can always exchange it.”

  “Let’s set a spending limit,” she said. “Twenty-five dollars or less?”

  “A little low,” he was slow to say. “There’s very little in the store for that price.”

  “How about fifty?” she asked.

  He shook his head. “Higher.”

  “A hundred?” Her brow had furrowed and her lips now pursed. Allie was frugal and money was an issue. She wouldn’t overspend, even if the gift was free.

  “That’s a fair amount,” he agreed.

  He swung the lantern in a wide arc. The light reflected on Santa’s Grotto. Small decorated Christmas trees were displayed near the runners of a vintage wooden sleigh. The sparkle from the Venetian hand-blown ornaments and Swarovski Crystal snowflakes shone through the darkness.

  Aidan looked at Allie and found her staring at the small sleigh. “Dashing through the snow,” he said. “Does it bring back memories?”

  Her blue eyes rounded. “I can’t believe you remembered my sleigh ride story and the fact that certain couples snuck under the tartan blankets and fooled around.”

  He recalled everything of their time together. “You were hard to forget, Allie.”

  She took two steps, made a concession. “Let’s talk before we shop. Join me in the sleigh?”

  “You don’t have to ask twice,” he said, sweeping aside the decorative silver foil gift boxes with their enormous green bows. He made room for the two of them on the front seat. The sleigh was meant for elves, not adults. Aidan banged his knees a couple of times before he was fully settled. Allie sat more on him than beside him, which he didn’t mind at all. He liked her on his lap.

  She squinted straight ahead. “I can picture reindeer guiding our sleigh tonight.”

  “Rudolph’s red nose would give off more light than our lantern.” He hooked the handle of the battery-operated camping lamp over the front curl of the sleigh.

  Silence collected, as heavy as the darkness. They sat physically close, yet emotionally distant. He watched her struggle with her personal demons, until finally he couldn’t stand it any longer. He had to break down whatever obstacles stood between them.

  He rested a hand on her knee, squeezed. “We’ve three years between us, Allie. Can we close the gap?”

  She was intently contemplative, and when she spoke, her words were so soft, he strained to hear them. “Love was a concept, but never a reality for my mom. The richer the man, the faster he’d depart. All my life I watched Margo get hurt. After each breakup, she would curl on the bed and cry for days. My own heart broke for her.”

  She bit down on her lower lip. “Margo warned her daughters off relationships. My dating was minimal. I never allowed myself to feel, until I met you. I took a chance.

  “You were so hot, so confident, so perfect. We had a lot in common. Sex was an adrenaline rush. Our time together was as wild, fast, and free as downhill at daybreak on fresh powder. I really liked you.”

  She rubbed her chest as if trying to warm her heart. He put his arm around her, as if by doing so, he could bring that warmth to her. Her smile was rueful. “A part of me knew we wouldn’t last. I had to leave first, before you showed me the door.”

  “No door, Allie.” Her mother had done a number on her. “I felt the start of something special between us. I wanted to spend New Year’s with you. I’d already made a resolution to see you again.”

  She clutched her hands in her lap. “Instead I acted like a coward and took off.”

  “Not a coward, Allie, you were acting on instinct.” He rubbed her back, his touch accepting of her childhood. “Growing up, you witnessed your mother’s mistakes and her pain. Her poor choices in men. You believed relationships were of the moment and that they’d never last. I understand that now.”

  He ran one hand down his face, pinched the bridge of his nose. Thoughtful. “When you left, I thought you were lost to me. I knew you only as Allie. The hotel manager didn’t have anyone at the lodge registered under that name.”

  “My ski vacation was a gift,” she explained. “My room was charged to my sister’s credit card. I had no idea you’d try to find me. I didn’t have your last name either.”

  “Three years to the day, you walked into Dutton’s.”

  “Snow Angel was at the top of my sisters’ Christmas lists. I couldn’t disappoint them,” she said. “The scent is romantic. I can close my eyes and conjure up the scent in my mind. It reminds me of a winter wonderland.”

  Aidan was really in a mess now. How could he tell her the origin of the fragrance was all about her? It had been produced in her memory. The night he’d spent with her was such a powerful aphrodisiac that he couldn’t get her woman’s scent out of his mind. She’d been sun-kissed snow and melting frost. She was fresh warmth on a cold winter’s day.

  Snow Angel was all about Allie Smith.

  Depending on their destiny, she might never know the truth behind the fragrance. He hoped she’d stay and give them a chance.

  She wiggled on his lap, her elbow poking him in the side. “I had no idea you worked here, Aidan.”

  Worked here didn’t really cover the truth. The fact he owned the store would scare her silly. “I was upstairs in Security, watching the guards clear the store,” he said. “You walked
in, and I couldn’t believe my eyes.”

  “You had to frisk me to be sure I was real?”

  “I needed to touch you.” His voice grew husky.

  She lowered her gaze. “I’m glad you did.”

  He shifted his shoulder and she cuddled against his chest. They were so close, they could’ve kissed. “What’s next? Where do we go from here?” he had to ask. Would she stay or go once the blizzard passed?

  She grew so thoughtful, she seemed in a trance. His heart slowed when she got out of the sleigh, her cane in hand. “We’ve cleared the air and it’s time to shop.”

  Not what he wanted to hear. His hope fell to disappointment. He’d set himself for a fall and this was it. She couldn’t see beyond the storm. She could only commit to the next minute. So be it. He’d make every second count.

  Chapter Four

  “There are seven floors to shop,” Allie Smith heard Aidan say as he climbed from the vintage sleigh and collected the lantern. “Where shall we start?”

  He didn’t look at her, he didn’t have to. The tension in the air was taut with uncertainty. She knew that whatever happened next was her move to make. She needed to make it soon.

  She stared longingly at the sleigh. It would have been so easy to spend the next hour pressed against this man. Aidan made her feel alive. His warmth slid beneath her skin, making her hot for him. She had liked their tight fit on the front seat. Her breasts pressed up against his broad chest, her bottom pushing into the contours of his groin. The evidence of his erection.

  The man was a turn on. She’d been wired from the moment he’d frisked her. They were a perfect sexual fit.

  She sighed. Nothing about their situation was simple. Christmas three years prior had complicated her life forever.

  She’d always favored the bulk of ski attire on men. Yet Aidan pulled off casual wear. His shoulders were wide, his chest thick. His long-legged stance was sexy. She loved his smile. His kindness. His humor. His sense of style.

  After a day in the store, his white shirt showed not a wrinkle and his slacks were sharply creased. Strange, how his tassel loafers and argyle socks made her stomach go soft. Her pulse raced into dangerous territory as far as succumbing to this man was concerned. A man so hot that no patina of corporate shine could hide his rugged appeal. She’d never thought herself susceptible to business types, yet Aidan changed her mind.

  She knew him equally as well naked as clothed. He was as physically buff as any athlete on the slopes. The man was a ski stud with a knowledge of retail. He wore the clothes, the clothes didn’t wear him.

  She liked the mix. A lot.

  So why couldn’t she commit to this man?

  If she read the expression on his face correctly, he wasn’t convinced she’d stay with him after the snowstorm. He was giving her his all. She was the one falling short of making the connection.

  She’d reach out to him soon. She would find the right moment to slide up close and not back down. She wanted to kiss him, but she hadn’t fully lost the fear of rejection. She hoped Aidan was the man she thought him to be, and that she hadn’t read him wrong.

  She longed to cling to those warm feelings a little while longer in case everything came crashing around her. Burying her like an avalanche.

  She wanted to be his Christmas present this year.

  She’d let him unwrap her, sinfully slow.

  She thought about their future as they moved around the first floor, searching for gifts, playing Hot and Cold.

  This variation of the kid’s game made her smile. Cold meant the gift was a pass. Hot indicated a definite possibility.

  She limped down the main aisle, stopping at stationery, photo albums, and picture frames. She selected a handsome leather bound album, held it up. “Ideal for what my mother used to call Kodak moments.”

  “Cold,” he said. “I like art, but I’m not into photography.”

  Neither was she. She tapped her fingers on a glass display case beyond the albums. “The price is higher than we agreed upon, but how about a Tibaldi fountain pen set?” In white gold, the limited edition set was of exquisite Italian craftsmanship. “This set would make a statement on your desk. You could sign invoices, compose love letters.”

  He shook his head. “Cold. Love should be spoken, not written,” he said with a sincerity that surprised her.

  “Poetry can be romantic,” she insisted.

  “Making love expresses the same sentiment.”

  Yes it did, she had to agree. Aidan was a master of sentiment. He was as tender and passionate as he was raw male animal. He touched both her body and heart. She would soon tell him how much.

  At the end of the glass counter, he offered her a sterling silver blade with a ruby encrusted handle. “Letter opener?” he asked.

  “Cold. I don’t receive much mail,” she said. “I pay my bills automatically online.”

  “A box of stationery with your name and address scripted in diamond dust?” he tried again.

  Her jaw dropped. “Cold. Who buys such stuff?”

  “Socialites, actresses, anyone seeking to leave a lasting impression.”

  She kept her gaze downcast and let that pass. She wanted to tell him that she found such extravagance as diamond dust on stationery a complete waste of money, but didn’t share her thoughts. She respected the fact that he worked high-end retail. She would never criticize the store where he earned his livelihood.

  “Victorian handkerchief?” He tried once more.

  “It’s lovely.” She’d never seen anything so delicate, so utterly exquisite. The square of ivory linen bordered by rose-patterned lace took her back to turn-of-the-century England. The hankie should be framed and admired on a living room wall, not stuffed in her jeans back pocket. It was an antique.

  “But Cold,” she said. “Kleenex works for me.”

  She traced a selection of paisley squares perfectly spaced on the glass counter top. The satin was slippery to her touch.

  “Pochettes.” Aidan noted her curiosity. “Men’s handkerchiefs that fit the pocket of a suit coat.”

  Allie threw back her head and laughed. “Stuffy, Aidan.”

  He grinned in agreement.

  They moved down the aisle, to beauty and fragrance. He set the lantern on the counter as she looked closely at men’s cologne.

  She was drawn to Clive Christian, the world’s most expensive male fragrance. The Baccarat crystal bottle proclaimed its century-old tradition. She lightly dabbed a drop on her finger, closed her eyes, and let it overtake her. Spice and citrus and pure masculinity.

  Aidan’s scent. Men who wore this cologne knew their worth. They were worldly, educated, and gentlemen.

  She eyed him through lowered lashes. How could he afford Clive Christian on his salary? It was the scent of the very rich.

  “This is the cologne you wore in Aspen.” She’d know it anywhere. “I fell in love with the scent.”

  “What about the man wearing it?”

  “I liked him, too.”

  “Nice save, Allie.”

  She wanted to save them both.

  She finally had the courage to move beyond her comfort zone. No more misunderstandings. No more waiting.

  The time was now.

  She drew up close and wrapped her arms about his neck, trying to stand on tiptoe, ignoring the stab of pain shooting through her ankle. Her need for him was far stronger. She traced her finger over his lips, corner to corner.

  Three years separated this night from their last kiss. As her mouth sought his, time melted away to possession and promise. And complete abandon. She gave herself to him, his sexy body turning her on so much she couldn’t think of anything else. Not blizzards, or her ankle, or even Santa’s eight reindeer who would probably land on the roof at any moment.

  There was no more cold to their game, it was all hot from this point on. Aidan allowed her a heartbeat of sweet and soft and searching before he penetrated her mouth with his tongue. His kisses took her back to F
rost Peak Lodge and their night of hot, sweaty sex.

  He tucked her close to him. He held her so tight she dropped her opera cane. She heard it rattle onto the polished marble floor, the sound echoing around them like the chain of a ghost from Christmas past.

  Her pulse raced, and her intake of breath was sharp in the silent store. He willingly breathed for her, exhaling as she inhaled, the moist heat of his mouth becoming her life force.

  He kissed her with three years of suppressed need.

  She kissed him back with the urgency of lost time.

  She tried to sift her body into his, a merging of two into one. They stood as close as two people could with their clothes on.

  Heat spread into her breasts and her nipples hardened. She felt his sex thicken and rise against her belly. She moaned. She sighed. She wanted.

  Her insides shifted and melted. She moaned low in her throat. And her entire body hummed.

  Aidan touched her everywhere. He traced her shoulders. Cupped her breasts. He ran his fingers over her ribs. Palmed her belly. He spanned her hip then stroked her ass. He felt between her legs and she opened to him. She leaned into his hand.

  Overhead, the final slam and shudder of the generators broke them apart. The emergency lights faded. Darkness claimed every corner of the store. The air carried a menacing chill. The ancient machinery had given up the ghost.

  Allie clutched his arms, his muscles tensing as their predicament worsened. He blew out a breath, fanning her forehead with warmth. Still, she shivered.

  “Scared?” he asked.

  “Not of the dark and no longer of you.” She lowered her voice, afraid the shadows might have ears. “I don’t need a present from Dutton’s to be happy this holiday season. I want our gift exchange to be each other.”

  “Maybe a trip to Aspen to take up where we left off,” he proposed.

  She smiled, liking his suggestion. He wanted to make future plans with her. To prove he wouldn’t leave her. She appreciated his effort. “New Year’s sex. There really is a Santa Claus.”

  “There’s also Sam,” Aidan observed, noticing the security guard’s approach. He was grateful Sam hadn’t shown up a moment sooner or his whole life might not have changed for the better. He now knew that Allie wanted him and that was the best Christmas gift he’d ever received in his stocking.