The Christmas spirit had left him feeling a desiccated shell of an immortal.
“Good morning,” he said instead. Though, for him, it certainly didn’t feel good. He had to get out of here. Get away from her. She deserved better. He’d keep her alive and stay out of her way.
Wow. She really shouldn’t have insisted he watch It’s a Wonderful Life. Obviously, immortals didn’t find Jimmy Stewart as heartwarming as mortals. She tipped backward as Zeit slid out from under her and nearly leapt from the bed. Zeit was getting out of her room so fast it was insulting.
“Was it the guardian angel thing?” she asked in wonder as he reached the door. Maybe it mocked his life or calling or whatever.
He paused, his hand on the door. “You’re right.” He didn’t look back at her, and she knew she wouldn’t like whatever it was she was right about. “I shouldn’t be taking up your time.” He laughed—and it wasn’t happy in the least. “Time,” he said as he dropped his forehead into his hand and shook his head.
Wow, he had really taken her comments the wrong way.
“Hey!” she said.
He looked back over his shoulder.
“Merry Christmas!” She’d had to be the most bah-humbug person in the whole lodge up until she’d met Zeit. He was so unfamiliar with it, and now he looked like he needed cheering up. It made her want to smother him in good cheer. She might have to find where he’d put that mistletoe.
He almost smiled.
“I have gifts for you.” Santa had delivered them just before Zeit had knocked on their adjoining door.
His face scrunched up, and he tilted his head as if the word was foreign. “Gifts?”
Scrambling out of bed, she went to the dresser where she’d put them. “Yeah, it turns out you were good enough that you didn’t get coal.” She held out the two wrapped packages.
“No, I haven’t been.” He didn’t even reach for the packages.
Wow.
Rolling her eyes, she shook her head. “Zeit, It’s a Wonderful Life makes everyone feel guilty. It’s like the feel guilty movie of the year.”
He folded his arms and frowned, not buying it.
She held up the bigger package and shook it with her eyebrows raised. The slippers shuffled back and forth with a slithery sound. It wasn’t quite the rattle of the mixed nuts he was shaking to a powder, but hopefully it was still intriguing.
The shaking got to him. His pinched, tired eyes lit up. It was too bad it wasn’t something more exciting than slippers. Oh, well, maybe he’d eventually open up his pocketknife. He’d probably love having a pocketknife. Zeit took the package hesitantly—almost tentatively—as if he still wasn’t convinced he deserved it.
Lifting the smaller gift, she made pointed eye contact. “Don’t shake this one.”
According to his expression, she’d as good as canceled Christmas.
“It’ll be a lot more fun if it’s not in small pieces.” She handed him the other gift. “Now, go get your other gift and bring them in here, and I’ll go see what’s for breakfast. I’m sure it’s out in the hall by now.” She went to the door and peeked out into the hall.
Mrs. Cowper was delivering breakfasts at the far end of the hall but she looked up and grinned at Hannah.
Hannah reached down, grabbed her tray and set it inside.
Then, she mentally argued with herself for a few seconds before sliding out into the hall and grabbing Zeit’s too.
“Merry Christmas!” she said when Mrs. Cowper stopped to watch her.
When she shut the door and leaned against it, closing her eyes, Hannah could tell her face was a hot shade of Christmas red. Nice. Merry Christmas indeed. Hopefully she wouldn’t get a lump of coal added to her stocking this late in the game. She opened her eyes to see Zeit still shaking his slippers.
Her heart plunged, and her breath caught. It was too late. He looked adorable—all dark and imposing and naked-chested… as he shook the crap out of a box. It was impossible not to fall for him. If he did lose interest and it killed her, she wouldn’t have a chance to regret falling in love with someone immortal.
“Hey, come grab your food, lazybones,” she said.
Like he was coming out of a trance, he looked up and his present-dazzled eyes focused on her. Nodding solemnly, he came over and took the tray from her.
“Set it on the table over there, and we can eat right next to the window.”
When she brought hers over, he’d already retrieved the three gifts and set them beside his covered dish.
“You’re going to have to open the smaller one,” she said.
“Why?”
“It goes with breakfast.” Sort of. And it’d force him to open at least one of them.
He picked up the smaller gift as she lifted the top off their breakfasts.
“Mmm,” they said at the same time. The breakfast casserole even tasted twice as good as it smelled—she remembered it from last year. Old family recipe, Mrs. Cowper had said.
“I can see why you come to stay here,” he said.
She shook her head. “It’s not the food. That’s just a bonus.”
“What is it?” He held the smaller present, but wasn’t unwrapping it.
“Open your present, and I’ll tell you.”
It was crazy she’d thought he was intimidating twenty-four hours ago—what a difference a day and a mad amount of shaking gifts made. He tried to freeze her with a look as he slowly pulled at the wrapping. After one side was open, his temperament changed entirely, and he tore the remaining wrapping paper off in a second.
“What is this thing?” he asked as he examined it from all angles.
“It’s a chocolate orange. Here. Give it here, and I’ll show you what you do.”
He tucked it closer to him rather than extending it for her to take.
So, she snagged it from his hand.
His jaw dropped, and he tried to grab it back.
“Hang on! Look. You need to get it out of this box—this is to prevent weirdos from shaking it to death.”
“So, I could have shaken it!” He was looking for an opportunity to grab it from her hand, so he frowned when she handed it back to him.
“Okay, now bang it against the table right there.” She pointed to a spot on the orange.
“I’m not supposed to shake it, but banging it is okay?” His eyebrows rose. He was so adorable.
“You know you want to. Bang it.”
The challenge was enough. He hit it against the table. His jaw dropped. “It broke!” The accusation in his eyes was comical.
Rolling her eyes, she grabbed the orange from him and unwrapped it to show him the segments were all separate now.
“Oh.” He took a segment and put it in his mouth. “That’s interesting.”
“Do you like it?”
He nodded slowly. “I think I do.”
She took one and popped it in her mouth, and his gaze followed her hand up to her mouth. She wasn’t sure if he didn’t want her stealing his gift or if he still was on the fence about bolting. She picked up another segment and put it up to his lips. This time, he smiled and ate it.
“I didn’t get you anything,” he said, wrinkling up his nose.
“You’ve saved my life thirty-nine times. I think we’re even.” Hopefully, he’d keep adding to that count if needed. The gift that kept giving.
“Yes, but…”
She shoved another segment into his mouth. “Besides, I’m planning on stealing more of your orange, and I sort of prefer giving to receiving.”
Zeit smirked.
She reached across and flicked him in the forehead. “You’re definitely going to get coal in your stocking if you keep thinking like that.”
“You’re getting coal because you knew what I was thinking.” He cleared his throat. “You said you’d tell me what you liked about coming here.”
Oh, that’s right. She had said that. “It feels like being part of a family without all the drama.”
&nbs
p; “I thought mortals liked drama.”
“Not me—the only family I know of is all drama, all the time.” He had no idea. She wanted more from this Christmas season, though. Not more drama, but no more being on the outside looking in.
She’d nearly died. If she died tomorrow, she didn’t want to die never having taken chances. She was not going to spend the whole week inside reading a book—especially not with Zeit around.
Nodding at the other two gifts, Hannah picked up her silverware. “Are you opening your other presents?”
“No. Maybe tomorrow.”
“No instant gratification for you, huh?”
He smirked again. “Sometimes I like to be gratified right away.” His gaze met hers, and he winked.
“You’re getting coal.”
Neither of them got coal, but he still should stay away from her. She was making that exceptionally difficult—both emotionally and physically. After breakfast, she’d dragged him out to the tree to watch families open gifts. She’d watched them, and he’d watched her. He had to keep her alive. She was like George Bailey, but she was also nothing like George Bailey.
“The mistletoe socks are cute,” she said. “Do you think they count for tradition?”
He’d received mistletoe socks in his stocking. Socks in a sock—odd. Mortals were very peculiar.
In point of fact, Hannah seemed to be flirting with him after all her pushing him away last night. Mortals were inconsistent. Something about her had changed. She was less cautious... about him and about life. Their reversal of roles spelled doom for his noble intentions. It was hard enough to resist her when she was wary of him.
“I don’t know. If you hold them over your head, we can see if I’m overcome by tradition,” he said.
She set down the mug of hot chocolate she’d been sipping as she grinned. “I like your snowman kit. We can make a snowman this week.”
Hannah kept doing that—making plans. He needed to back off and return to being in the shadows of her life, and she kept pulling him back in.
“I want to go on a sleigh ride later,” she said.
She was infectious—she made him want to be a part of something, but he was beginning to see why it was better that he never had been. He’d never have been able to steal the lifetimes of mortals if he’d spent time with any like Hannah. “I don’t know.”
“I thought you were going to stay near me.”
“I am, but…”
“But what?”
He tucked the snowman kit back into his stocking. “I’ve been around you this whole year without you knowing. I can go back to that.”
She went still and looked away. “Wow, I honestly thought you’d have to actually spend time with me before you got sick of being around me.”
What? Was she joking? She had to be joking. “You deserve someone who is…”
“Mortal?”
“Yes!” She did understand, so at least there was that. He could ignore the dull ache returning.
“Because you’re too good to waste time with a mortal.”
“No. No, that’s not it at all.”
“I’m not stupid, Zeit. I get that you’ve been around for a long time, and you’ll keep being around so it’s not like this can be long term. Mortals age, and you’re the eternal Peter Pan.”
“Peter Pan?” he repeated. “Isn’t that a child’s story?”
“Yes, it’s about a boy who never has to grow up so he lives in this world of never-ending adventure until this human girl comes along. She discovers that never growing up means never getting to experience half of life—she grows up, and he doesn’t. And they’re both happy.” She picked up her hot chocolate and stirred it, clinking the spoon on the mug. The clinking annoyed him. It got under his skin. He couldn’t tolerate it.
Also, she wasn’t right.
“But I’m not happy,” he snapped. Hell. That had slipped out. “I mean I’m not this book character.”
Her hand froze. Good—he was about to grab the damn spoon and throw it.
“Hannah, I’m not right for you. I came into your life because I’d intended to take it.”
“And then you didn’t, and now you keep saving me.”
“For now.”
She turned back to him and rolled her eyes. “You’re not going to kill me.”
“But I might stop saving your life.”
She shrugged. “And it sounds like I should have died a year ago. It’s time to start living.” Then she bit her lip and whispered, “Are you going to stop saving my life?”
“No.” Never. There was no way he could take her life or allow it to be taken. Whatever kept making his chest ache had stolen through his brain. He’d keep her alive until old age took her. He should learn to love Boise.
“Okay, good, because I also want to learn how to ski while I’m here.”
Closing his eyes, he shook his head. She was going to make him work hard to keep her alive. Hell, maybe the challenge would keep his concerns from plaguing him. He looked over when she started laughing.
Reaching deep into her stocking, she pulled out two cylinders. “Chapstick. Peppermint and Christmas cookie. Mistletoe socks and chapstick. The Cowpers aren’t very subtle. Then again, she saw me grab your breakfast. Subtlety is out.”
On that, they could agree. The Fates would soon sense he wasn’t planning on following their edict this New Year’s Eve. They’d probably redouble their efforts—possibly out of spite.
The sound of a bell jarred him. Last night’s movie and that little girl at the end. Every time a bell rang… He shook his head to clear it. He was not an angel.
On the other side of the room, Mrs. Cowper set the bell back on the fireplace mantle. “Attention. Mr. Cowper will be giving sleigh rides for the next several hours to those interested.”
Hannah leaned closer. “C’mon, it’ll be fun.” When he didn’t protest, she grabbed his hand as she stood up. “Let’s go dump our loot in our rooms and get changed into warmer clothing.”
Zeit got to his feet and then stood there staring down at his brown-haired weakness. Her small size made him feel more powerful and in control. He could do this. He was master.
Tilting her head, Hannah asked, “Besides, what could happen on a sleigh ride?”
They’d find out, wouldn’t they?
CHAPTER SIX
This was like a Christmas Special on TV. Hannah slid closer to Zeit.
They were in one of the most pristine white and heavenly-scented places on earth yet he scanned the surrounding area as if they were about to be set upon by a battalion of bloodthirsty assassins. Zeit beside her, the smell of the pine trees in the air, and the bite to the faint wind was as close to a perfect moment as she’d ever felt. She wrapped the sleigh’s blanket around her legs then took a deep breath, grabbed Zeit’s hand, and pulled his arm around her as she tucked herself into his side.
Subtlety was out.
Zeit blinked and looked down at her with a frown that transformed into a smile as he gazed into her eyes. The tenseness of his muscles even loosened—slightly. Very slightly.
“Did you notice I’m wearing my lucky scarf?” She knew he’d recognize it. It kept coming back to her right around when she lost time. It was sweet of him to return her scarf while he was saving her life.
He raised his eyebrows. “Do you know how often you’ve lost your lucky scarf—ergo why it’s not so lucky?”
“Oh, I don’t know. I’ve lost it like two dozen times, and it keeps magically reappearing. I’d call that lucky.” Most of her scarves only lasted a couple weeks before she lost them. She’d had this one a whole year.
He rolled his eyes and went back to looking for bloodthirsty assassins.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Mr. Cowper glance back over his shoulder at them. He’d probably report back to his wife. They’d both been only too eager for them to go on this sleigh ride. Mrs. Cowper had been all winks and knowing looks.
The horse’s neigh bounced off
the snow all around them. Zeit could ease up. They were in a sleigh in the middle of a winter wonderland. The only thing lacking was privacy. Anything they whispered would sound like a shout in the snow-shrouded landscape.
So, they’d have to be very quiet.
She slid her hand up to his neck and pulled his mouth down to hers. After only a breath’s brush of their lips, he pulled back, and she opened her eyes.
Zeit licked his lips. His face scrunched up in concentration. “Cookies?” he whispered.
Oh, the chapstick. In answer, she grinned. Subtlety was out.
His mouth swooped back down to her as his arm tightened around her, pulling her closer. His lips urged hers open so his tongue could caress hers in what seemed like another taste because he whispered “so sweet” against her mouth before going for another thorough taste. She had to work really hard not to moan from the liquid heat streaking through her. The flex of his jaw muscles beneath her fingers as he brushed his tongue along hers probably made the pounding of her heart nearly audible. She slid her gloved hand from his neck to cup his cheek—partly to shield them from view. She didn’t want to scandalize poor Mr. Cowper.
Oh, Zeit. If she backed up a millimeter, he’d take that millimeter—there was no retreat, and the pressure of his mouth as he sucked and tasted and rubbed… Mmm. Zeit was a dangerous sort of sexy. If they’d been in one of their rooms, her guardian angel would be taking her to paradise.
Then, Zeit froze and pulled back. The cold air on her lips made the tingling left behind even more intense. She opened her eyes. Zeit gazed into space just above her shoulder with his eyebrows drawn together.
Jerking his arm from around her, Zeit yanked the glove off his right hand. He snapped his fingers and then stared at his hand. His face went ashen as his eyes widened.
“Hell,” he muttered. “Hold on to something!” He leapt across the sleigh right as a rabbit shot under one of the horses’ legs, startling it. The anxious horse kicked at the other horse. The reins fell from Mr. Cowper’s surprised hands just as Zeit managed to grab the lines in the air.
Servants of Fate Page 5
