He turned his attention to Sam, packing two flashlights, a camping lantern, and a deepening scowl.
Sam nodded a greeting to them both, then went on to say, “I need you upstairs, boss. Chris and Pamela have taken advantage of your shopping spree. Their selection of gifts would fill Santa’s bag ten times over.”
Aidan felt a headache coming on. “I told them one gift each,” he said.
“Apparently they can’t count,” said Sam.
Major mood spoiler, Aidan thought. He and Allie had just found each other, only to be separated by a greedy golfer and money-hungry Broadway actress.
He bent to pick up Allie’s opera cane. The cane she’d dropped when he drew her close. Their fingers brushed and he felt a heat at his groin that could roast chestnuts.
“What have they accumulated?” he asked Sam. “Last I heard, Chris wanted a new golf bag and Pamela was looking for a fancy dress.”
Sam ran a hand along the back of his neck. “Their spree gained momentum as they went through the store. Chris picked out a new set of golf clubs, golf shoes, then pocketed the TRI Marker.” Sam looked at Allie, explaining, “It’s a white gold, diamond and amethyst studded marker used to mark ball placement. Chris continues to believe that Dutton’s owes him for the inconvenience of the blizzard. He’s run up six-figures so far.”
Aidan stiffened. “How about Pamela?”
“She chose a dozen designer dresses and still has her eye on the red satin stilettos in the front showroom window,” Sam said. “Chris convinced her that she needed luggage for her clothes. She went with the Louis Vuitton collection and took all six pieces, including the armoire trunk and hat box. She said the pieces matched Chris’s golf bag.”
“It sounds like Pamela plans to join Chris on the Tour,” Allie speculated.
“The lady’s in for a major disappointment,” Sam said. “The man’s not Chris Johnson. I’d stake my life on it.”
Aidan thought Sam was probably right. To get Chris to confess was another matter entirely.
He looked at Allie, who smiled shyly at him. Her hair was mussed, her eyes bright. Her cheeks and chin bore his whisker burn. He rubbed his jaw. He needed a shave.
His chest clutched as he realized how much he cared for her. She was a hot sex partner, but he also felt a soul-deep connection. He knew in his heart Allie was different from any woman he’d ever met. He could be himself around this woman.
She’d yet to know him as the Dutton heir, but that would come soon enough. He’d tell her after the snowstorm, when they had complete privacy. No interruptions.
He would have given her every item in this store, if she had asked. Instead she’d chosen him as her Christmas gift. Lying next to her skin to skin would be priceless.
“Where are the Murphys?” Aidan asked, curious as well as concerned for their safety.
“Sitting happily on the couch like two kids on Christmas morning,” Sam told him. “Marian’s busy admiring her Waterford vase and Warren’s appreciative of his new crocodile wallet.”
The guard clasped his hands and blew on his fingers. “It’s going to be cold soon. We need to collect pillows and blankets.”
“Heat rises,” Aidan knew. “Let’s move to the sixth floor, to beds and bedding.”
“Warren Murphy mentioned his joints hurt,” Sam said. “It might do him good to stretch out.”
“Bunk beds for Pamela and Chris?” Allie asked, tongue in cheek.
Sam grunted. “Any heavy breathing and I trigger the Taser.”
Aidan could picture Allie on the large, draped four-poster bed. A Turkish motif with the finest ivory silk linens, a black cashmere coverlet, and Fez embroidered pillows.
Realistically, they might be warmer in a sleeping bag. Dutton’s had several designs. One double-size sleeper had a velvet futon cushioned floor and a thick goose-down lining. The manufacturer claimed it was suitable for Arctic temperatures; it would keep his snow angel warm.
“Let me carry you upstairs.” He then swept Allie high against his chest before she could protest. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and nuzzled his neck. He dropped a light kiss on her forehead.
Sam led the climb, flashlights and lanterns in hand. The stairwell held a foreboding chill. It was time to prepare for the frigid night ahead.
They reached the third floor, and Aidan looked around. Sam had warned him about Chris’s and Pamela’s stack of expensive gifts. Yet seeing the merchandise piled high made him double blink. They’d clean out his store if he’d let them.
The two sat snuggled together on the leather couch. Their heads were bent, whispering, laughing, carrying on like partners in crime. They appeared more on vacation than stuck in a blizzard.
Three boxes of imported hand-dipped chocolates lay open on the coffee table. Several half-eaten pieces sat sticky on the clear glass. Two wineglasses flanked a bottle of Mouton Rothschild. Pamela and Chris were well into the red wine.
Aidan had every right to be pissed. For Allie’s sake, he locked his jaw and held his temper. Said little for the moment.
He set her down gently. Friction sparked. The hot little pinpricks raised his temperature as well as his dick. He turned to the hoarders and said, “I see you two have been shopping.”
“We shopped until the electricity failed,” Pamela said, pouting. As if the loss of light was Aidan’s fault. “It got so dark it was like stepping into a thick bar of chocolate.”
“We passed Food and Wine on our return and helped ourselves.” Chris smirked. “Nothing but the best for us. Right, Pamela, honey?”
Pamela waved her hand theatrically. “Snickers are so pedestrian. Life’s too short to each cheap chocolate. Delicabar by Bacarr is sublime.” She slowly licked her lips, making them shine. “These liqueur truffles are filled with German Robin Brandy, raspberry wine, and Añejo Patrón tequila.”
“We ate one entire box looking for the worm.” Chris laughed at his own joke. “Then we ran out of wine.”
Aidan shook his head. Lack of wine explained why the candies were bitten into pieces. They’d had nothing to wash the chocolate down.
“Major sugar high,” said Pam, cozying up to Chris.
“I’d say the wine chasers helped too,” Allie whispered to Aidan.
He agreed. He debated discussing their mountain of gifts with them. Drunks could be mellow or could get mad. He hoped for the former.
He nodded toward their amassed fortune. “What happened to one gift per customer?” he asked dryly.
“A single present doesn’t compensate for my time.” Chris slurred his words a little. “If I hadn’t been stuck here through no fault of my own, I could have attended the charity tournament in Atlanta, I’d have won big money.”
Sam stepped more visibly into the lantern light. “How quickly you big shots forget,” he addressed Chris. “The winnings don’t go to the golfers. The men play for their favorite charity. Yours was St. Michael’s Mission. The national organization that houses the homeless.”
Chris went so still, Aidan swore he stopped breathing. His features were as tight as his words when he asked, “You knew this how? Golf Forum?”
“USA Today,” Sam informed him. “I have a copy of yesterday’s newspaper upstairs in Security. There’s no picture of Chris Johnson, only the mention of his charity. I’d be happy to retrieve the article to jog your memory.”
“Shit.” Chris cursed under his breath. He looked visibly shaken.
“Care to come clean?” asked Aidan, opening the door for the truth.
Still, Chris hesitated. Aidan swore the man broke into a cold sweat before his eyes.
Pamela scooted to the far end of the couch, distancing herself from the phony golfer. “If you’re not Chris Johnson, then who are you?”
Chris swallowed hard, confessed. “I was his chauffer while he was in Chicago this past weekend for the grand opening of his new steakhouse The Nineteenth Hole. My real name’s Jay Watts.”
“I knew it.” Sam puffed out his
chest, proud of himself. “Mystery solved.”
Jay glared at Sam. “Cut me some slack, will you? I’ve never pretended to be Johnson until today.”
“Why today?” Aidan asked, curious.
“I saw Pamela and thought she was hot. I wanted to impress her.”
Pamela smiled weakly and fussed with her hair. She seemed almost embarrassed by his compliment.
“High-maintenance chicks like Pamela won’t give a regular guy the time of day,” Jay continued. “I wanted to impress her. Professional athletes get a lot of attention. Johnson’s always mobbed. Men want to be him. Women want to sleep with him. Everyone kisses his ass.”
“You wanted your ass kissed, too.” Pamela sighed heavily, as if a burden had been lifted off her shoulders as well. She slowly inched along the couch, back toward Jay. “I have something to get off my chest too,” she said, folding her hands in her lap. “I’m not the leading actress in Peaches.”
“You’re kidding.” Jay was clearly fooled.
“I’m the understudy in an off-off Broadway production,” she admitted. “It’s not a long running show either. It’s only financed for three months.”
Jay shrugged, lowered his gaze to her breasts. “Guess we’re both as fake as your boobs.”
“My girls are real,” she said with pride. “And they’re show-stoppers.”
Jay’s face lit up like the lights on a Christmas tree, all glowy and bright.
Aidan relaxed. Maybe he’d get off easier than he’d expected. In Jay’s eyes, nothing Dutton’s offered could compare to Pamela’s cup size.
“We need more wine,” Jay said. “It’s freezing in here and I could use the buzz.”
“I can’t get so drunk I let you take advantage of me.” Pamela giggled.
“You’ll never be under the influence, babe, only under me,” Jay said.
Pamela laughed so hard she nearly fell off the couch.
Allie nudged Aidan with her elbow. “I feel like Alice down the rabbit hole.”
“I’m right there with you,” he said. “But there’s no way out of Wonderland until tomorrow.”
Allie laced her fingers with his. “It’s funny how things turn out when two people are forced to be honest with each other.”
“What do you mean?” Aidan asked. What was she leading up to?
She looked at the two would-be celebrities, laughing and whispering like old friends. “Their department store confessions seemed to bring them closer together.”
Aidan kept quiet, knowing he was on shaky ground with whatever he said. Best to let the matter drop. For now. He had his own admission to make. That would happen soon enough.
For the moment, he enjoyed the softness of her palm, the intimate squeeze of her hand. When she shivered, he felt her chill all the way to her fingertips. He tensed. As much as he’d like to believe otherwise, they’d need more than body heat to survive the night.
“Let’s move to the sixth floor,” Aidan said. “Sam and I will locate battery-heated camping blankets.”
“I have sensitive skin and wool blankets can be scratchy,” Pamela complained. “I’d rather have a cashmere comforter.”
“Our bedding tonight isn’t about fashion, it’s about survival,” Sam said with authority. “We don’t want anyone to freeze.”
“We have display beds. You can take your pick,” Aidan told them.
Jay looked at Pamela, his eyes widening. “Have you seen the Gold Bed?” he asked. “I read about it online. It’s the most expensive waterbed in the world. The frame is coated in 24-carat gold, and Swarovski Crystals line the sideboard. We could make some big waves tonight.”
Sam shook his head. “No waves. Without electricity, the bed will be a block of ice.”
Pamela shivered. “Sounds too cold for me.”
“I’ll keep you warm,” Jay told her.
“I’ll help Sam gather what’s needed so we can all keep warm,” Aidan said to Allie. He bent, lightly brushed her lips with his own. He would have enjoyed deepening that kiss. Wrong time. Wrong place. He didn’t want his woman to freeze on the spot. “I’ll be right back. Then we’ll head upstairs.”
He returned in record time, not wanting to leave Allie alone longer than was absolutely necessary. With him he had battery-operated blankets that were thick, durable, and meant to sustain sub-zero temperatures.
Tonight was all about warmth. Not sex.
The sleeping bag for two was his personal favorite.
Spooning was his position of choice.
Sam assisted the Murphys to the emergency stairwell, making sure they had plenty of light to guide their way. They began their climb. Pamela and Jay scooped up the leftover chocolates. Lanterns in hand, they weaved unsteadily across the room, making Aidan wonder if he should follow them to keep them out of trouble. Their laughter echoed eerily through the darkness.
Allie nudged him, offering to carry the blankets and sleeping bag, if he carried her. He hooked her opera cane over her left wrist, lifted her easily. He swiped the last lantern off the coffee table.
“Are you hungry?” he asked. “We can make a quick stop on the fifth floor. Food and wine can provide dinner.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Allie smiled back. “We could pick up something for Sam and the Murphys too,” she suggested. “Pamela and Jay are having their own private party.”
Aidan swung the lantern wide on their departure. There were so many items to be returned to their regular departments. At that moment, he didn’t much care. Getting through this bitter cold night was his number one priority.
He held Allie close. So close, he couldn’t tell where her body left off and his began. It felt right to have her in his life. Three years of missing her now melted like an ice cube. She warmed him with a look. A touch. A smile.
Food and wine produced sweets for everyone. Aidan topped the blankets with a holiday tin of orange-pecan biscuit thins and a sticky toffee pudding. Eau de Sucre was his favorite gourmet microbrew soda, served in aqua mosaic bottles. His tastes ran to maple syrup root beer, while Allie wanted to try both chocolate lavender and black lemonade.
She was soon completely covered with blankets and food. He could only see the top of her blond head. He could, however, feel her curves, as one of his arms supported her bottom and the other crossed her back. They proceeded to the emergency exit.
Sam came quickly and unburdened Allie once they reached the sixth floor. The guard spread the biscuits, pudding, and sodas on a mahogany nightstand. The Murphys came to serve themselves. Luckily the pudding came with plastic spoons.
“Any particular place you would like us to sleep?” Warren asked Aidan, stifling a yawn. “I’m tired and would like to stretch out soon.”
Aidan pointed to a row of Sweden by Hastings beds. “The beds are all made up. The mattresses are like sleeping on a cloud,” he said with just the hint of a sales pitch. “Sam will put batteries in the camping blankets and you should stay warm throughout the night.”
Marian Murphy slipped into her winter wool coat. She wrapped a scarf around her neck, then donned her mittens. “I’m all for being toasty,” she said, hunching her shoulders and rubbing her gloved hands together.
“I’m all about heating the sheets,” Pamela said from two aisles over. She pulled back the comforter on a queen-size bed and began to stroke the top sheet as if it was a lover. The little sound of appreciation she made was almost sexual.
She grabbed the price tag off the bed and her eyes popped. “Only Midas could afford these linens. It says here they’re handmade merino wool backed with thousandcount Egyptian cotton. They’re also threaded with gold.”
Jay came up behind her. “I’ve never slept on gold.”
“That bed’s strictly for show,” Sam interceded before the two could crawl under the covers. “Pick another one.”
“Party pooper.” Pamela sniffed.
“Forget him,” Jay said, slipping his arm around her. “We’ll try out all the beds until we find the right
one.”
“Just call me Goldilocks,” she giggled.
Aidan and Allie watched as the couple sat, bounced, and flopped on a dozen display beds before settling on an ornate brass one in the far corner. They picked out orthopedic pillows and thick down comforters. Sam left two camping blankets on their nightstand in case Jack Frost nipped their noses.
The Murphys chose a double bed and Sam saw to their comfort, making sure they were snug under the covers. Sam settled onto a juvenile boy’s single near the emergency exit. Aidan knew he took his security job seriously. He would safeguard their sleep from a bed designed as a race car.
Aidan finished off the biscuit thins and Allie sipped the last of her soda. They looked at each other, Allie biting down on her lower lip, Aidan trying to keep his libido from getting out of hand. He restrained himself from licking off her chocolate lavender soda moustache. Instead he pressed the cuff on his shirt to her upper lip. It was time to turn in.
Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined taking Allie to bed at Dutton’s Department Store in the middle of a blizzard. Yet here they stood, looking over the displays, ready to make a decision on their bed for the night.
“Sleigh bed? Round one?” he asked her.
“I’d be waiting for Rudolph all night in the sleigh bed,” she said with a smile. “The round one reminds me of a marshmallow.”
“Four poster?” He grabbed the sleeping bag, took her by the hand, and led her down the aisle. She limped beside him. He brought her to a luxury bed with a sheer nude fabric canopy and matching sheets. It was a bed where naked bodies could blend with the bedding. Sex would get all wrapped up in an intimate heat.
No lovemaking tonight, it was too public. Aidan focused on the cold that settled around them. Tonight was all about survival.
“The bed looks inviting,” she agreed, letting out a long, slow breath as if she could read his thoughts.
Aidan spread the sleeping bag over the sheets. He unzipped one side to give her easy access. She rested her cane against the headboard, toed off her right boot, and climbed inside.
Unwrapped Bundle with You Don't Know Jack & Bad Boys in Kilts Page 24
