never changed my mind to begin with. It’s true,” he said when she glanced at him doubtfully. “I was just trying to tell you on Christmas Day that I needed a little more time to myself after my father had left, but you took everything I said wrong. I apologize for not saying it right. I know I hurt you. But I never meant for you to get in your car and drive away from me, Angel.”
“You pulled up my car for me. You practically rolled out a red carpet and set up neon arrows pointing down the mountain!”
“I did not,” he exploded. “All I did was go and get your SUV unstuck while you pouted in the bathroom. I needed to do something physical to clear my head. Afterwards, I went out to my shed to return the tools I used to get your vehicle out of the ice, and when I came back, you were gone. It’s true, Angeline,” he said staunchly when she opened her mouth to argue.
Someone coughed nearby. Both of them glanced around uncomfortably when they realized how heated their discussion had become.
“You must be lying, Alex,” she said after a moment, her voice shaking with repressed emotion. She wanted to believe him all right, but… “You put the angel in my bag. You must have known I would leave. It was some kind of a…a…guilt gift.”
He moved briskly and Angeline realized he’d whipped his leather glove off his right hand. He pressed his fingertips to her cheek and lifted her jaw so that she met his stare.
“I put the angel in your bag on Christmas Eve. I didn’t want to embarrass you by making a big deal out of it,” he mumbled after a moment. For the first time, Angeline fully sensed his vulnerability. Before she knew that she’d intended it, her palm cradled his jaw, her gesture mirroring his. He closed his eyes briefly and lowered his head.
“You kept acting like I was a fool for making it clear how I felt about you. I thought it’d embarrass you if I just handed it to you.”
A deep feeling of tenderness swept through her. So strange, to experience it for this big, confident, thoroughly dominant man.
“Alex,” she whispered. She hadn’t realized she’d drawn closer to him until he lifted his head and his face hovered just an inch above her own. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for what your father did.”
He gave her a small smile. Angeline couldn’t stop herself from rubbing her leather-covered thumb over his firm lower lip.
“I’m not.”
Her eyebrows went up in surprise. The sound of Alex’s low laughter caused ripples of pleasure to course down her spine. She pressed closer to his long, hard body and went up on her tiptoes so she could press her mouth to his.
A minute later, feeling several degrees warmer from Alex’s kiss, she lowered her heels to the pavement.
“Do you mean it?” she asked dazedly as she fought through a sensual haze to recall what they’d been talking about before they kissed.
His dark brows went up in an ironic expression. He kissed her once on the nose. “You’re not going to make some kind of weird Oedipal interpretation if I say yes I’m glad my dad did it, are you?”
She pressed a finger to her mouth. “My lips are sealed.”
“Hopefully not for long,” Alex murmured, his face full of combined mirth and sexual heat as he stared at her lips. “But yeah. Mitchell may have done it for all the wrong reasons, but I have to admit…he did it. He brought us together. He must have seen something on that evening in McAllister’s four years ago…something I didn’t recognize.”
“What?” Angeline whispered, causing the mist from their mouths to merge into a single cloud of vapor.
“That I was too stubborn to go after what I wanted if my father was even remotely involved.”
She smiled and gave him a wry glance before he lowered his head and kissed her long and hot.
“I have to admit something else, Angel,” he said later.
“What?” she asked huskily as she stared up at Alex’s handsome face glowing from the festive lights. Snowflakes began to fall on her eyelashes and cheeks and salted Alex’s dark hair and goatee. He pressed his mouth lightly to her opened lips, caressing her as he spoke.
“After all those Christmases of getting all those meaningless gifts from my dad, he finally had the good grace to get it right.” He kissed her softly before he lifted his head again. “And I have a really good feeling this’ll make up for everything that came before. Angel?”
“Yes?” she whispered, utterly mesmerized by the man who stood before her.
“They’re predicting another snowstorm tonight. I don’t suppose you have someplace nice and warm for a weary traveler to rest, do you?”
“Oh, yes. The warmest, nicest place you can imagine.”
She grabbed his hand and led him through the falling snow and holiday crowd to Dearborn Avenue.