Chapter Two

Allie Smith hated confinement. She needed the freedom of the outdoors. Clean air filling her lungs. The crisp bite of the morning chill turning her cheeks pink. She thrived on mountaintops with fresh powder and frosty air. She was at home there.

Here she faced a night in a department store with Aidan, and nowhere to run.

Did she really want to escape this man? She knew the answer, even if she wouldn’t admit it. She was convinced that a conniving elf had put her in Dutton’s with the man of her dreams just to tease her. This time there was no hot tub or warm bed. She was standing in the main aisle of a dark department store. The temperature was dropping by the second.

She openly observed him. He looked the same, only different. Tall and handsome, with five o’clock shadow that had arrived two hours early. His dark hair was cut short. His features were strong and his shoulders broad. She’d known him as a ski stud, but looking at him now, she saw a sophisticated businessman in a white shirt, burgundy and gray paisley tie, a braided leather belt, and sharply creased charcoal slacks. He looked preppie in his black tassel loafers and argyle socks. His style confused the hell out of her.

Would the real Aidan please stand up?

She found this new man sexy in a most disturbing way. Aristocratic came to mind. Polished and urbane. And to think he’d once been hers. She had unwrapped him on a Christmas Eve. He’d been the perfect present.

She let out a deep sigh. What a fool she’d been to run away, to lose him as both friend and lover. Now he thought she was a thief. His look was unwelcoming. He wasn’t overjoyed to see her.

She reached for her ski jacket, retrieved her cell phone from the inside pocket. “I need to call my sisters. They’ll be worried,” she said.

She dialed, but no one picked up. She left a quick message. “It’s Allie, I’m in Chicago at Dutton’s—” and the connection failed.

Aidan pulled his Blackberry from his pants pocket. He flipped it open, only to shake his head. “No bars.”

Her shoulders sank. She tried sending a text. No go.

Seconds later, Sam from Security approached them. He shuffled down the aisle, herding a small group of stranded shoppers.

He looked at Allie first. “I located your check. My apology, Allie Smith, you’re cleared of any crime.”

She let go of the breath she’d been holding. Score one for the Snow Angels, her look told Aidan. He nodded in her direction, his opaque gray eyes holding steady with hers, though he didn’t apologize for the pat down. The hint of a smile told her that he’d enjoyed touching her.

Sam next turned to Aidan. “I also found four stragglers. No one’s happy.”

The arrivals clustered at the jewelry counter. A tall man with spiky brown hair and a hot temper turned on Aidan. “Are you the store manager?” he demanded.

“He’s the—” said Sam.

“First floor supervisor,” Aidan cut Sam off. “I’m Aidan.”

Sam’s brow creased, but he didn’t contradict his boss.

Allie caught their exchange. Both men appeared guarded. Almost secretive. They shared a work-bond that didn’t extend to the shoppers.

“I’m Chris Johnson,” the newcomer said. “I was caught on the sixth floor in sporting apparel when the lights went out. I’m headed to Atlanta for a charity golf tournament. My flight leaves in two hours.”

Sam flashed the Maglite in the golfer’s face. “You’re aware there’s a blizzard?”

“I hate snow,” Chris said. “I need to get to the airport.”

Sam eyed Chris with suspicion. “Chris Johnson, you say? I follow golf and you look different than you do on TV.”

Chris stared down Sam. “Television adds ten pounds.”

“It’s not your weight,” Sam said. “Johnson is shorter and blond.”

“Check the color on your set,” the man growled. “Damn storm. I can’t miss my flight.”

“Sorry, but Chicago’s at a standstill,” Aidan told the golf pro, his tone friendly but firm. “This could be the worst snowstorm in history. All transportation including air travel has shut down.”

“Not good enough.” Chris got in Aidan’s face. The golfer shoved him back a step. “I’m a celebrity athlete. You’re in charge. Do something, retail man.”

Aidan went stiff, his jaw tight.

Allie was surprised he kept his cool.

Sam snagged the Taser off the jewelry counter and pressed the trigger. The guard’s hand shook as electricity sparked, crackled. “Touch Aidan again and I’ll jolt you into tomorrow,” he warned the golf pro.

Allie bit down on her bottom lip, smiled to herself. She liked the way the guard stood up for his boss, even though Aidan was six inches taller and thirty pounds heavier than Sam.

“No harm done.” Chris moved to the front door and pressed his palms against the frosted glass. “There has to be an emergency release.”

Sam curled his lip. “If there was, trust me, you’d be the first to leave.”

“The generator’s old and runs minimal electricity,” Aidan said. “We’re lucky to have the light we do now.”

That light suddenly dimmed. The entire building shuddered as the backup machinery strained against the storm. The Maglite flickered, the batteries running low.

Sam shone the shaft of light on all those gathered. Allie saw an elderly couple, their eyes wide, frightened, along with a younger woman with heavily lined eyes and a long sleek auburn ponytail. The redhead’s face was pinched, her lips a glossed fuchsia line.

Allie crossed her arms, leaned against the jewelry counter, and watched as the woman approached Aidan. This could prove interesting.

“I’m Pamela Parker.” She looked left, then right, making sure she had everyone’s attention. “I’m a close friend of the Dutton family.”

Aidan’s brows pulled together, and uncertainty etched his brow. He seemed to doubt Pamela’s familiarity with the store owners, Allie thought. That intrigued her. As the floor supervisor, he couldn’t possibly know the Dutton’s every acquaintance. He didn’t travel in their social circle.

“The Duttons won’t be pleased to hear good customers were stuck in their store on Christmas Eve,” Pamela added. “Their son will be furious when I tell him. He’s such a sweetheart.”

“Is he?” Aidan asked, curious.

“Yes,” Pamela stated with assurance. She spoke rather loudly, as if projecting her voice from a stage. “Alden and I have dated in the past.”

“Alden?” Allie heard Sam cough into his hand.

She swore Aidan forced back a smile.

Allie wondered why he was so amused.

Sam shot the faint beam directly in Pamela’s face. “Security attempted to get everyone out. You had plenty of warning, yet you kept trying on clothes. I found you in the fifth floor dressing room. Discarded garments were stacked to the ceiling.”

The redhead had dressed in the dark, Allie noted. The front pearl buttons on her blue satin blouse were crooked and the collar was turned under. Yet the woman appeared confident, clutching two designer dresses with the price tags visible. Allie’s eyes widened. She could pay her rent for a month on what those gowns cost.

Pamela lifted her chin. “I needed the perfect dress for Christmas Eve dinner and couldn’t make a decision.”

Sam had the solution. “You could wear one for the main course and one during dessert.”

Allie grinned. Sam spoke his mind. A person would know where they stood with the guard. She liked that, a lot.

“We’re the Murphys,” the older man said, edging forward. “I’m Warren and this is my wife Marian. We both use canes. We were on the fourth floor in crystal and fine china when the elevators stopped. We took the stairs, but it was slow going. It’s Marian’s eightieth birthday.” He turned to his wife and smiled. “I’d promised her a Waterford vase followed by afternoon tea.”

Warren turned to Aidan. “I’m a retired postal worker. I’ve delivered mail in rain, sleet, and heavy snow, but I’ve never seen a storm this bad. I looked out the window on the upper floor and couldn’t make out the building next door. The power company will be pulling its crew off the street so I don’t think there will be any emergency responders. Are we safe?”

“Very much so,” Aidan assured him. “Should the generators fail, we have departments with candles and camping equipment. We’ve battery-operated blankets to keep you warm. There’s plenty of food, from tea room sandwiches to Swiss chocolates. We even have display beds with fresh linen should we be forced to spend the night. Sam and I will see to your every comfort.”

Aidan glanced over at Allie. Her skin prickled. She had memories of just how comforting Aidan could be.

Marian Murphy touched Aidan’s arm, a woman with a cloud of white hair and wire-rim glasses. She’d have made a perfect Mrs. Claus. “Thank you, son.”

Allie couldn’t help admiring Aidan. He was in charge, and as accommodating as he was kind. He’d put the Murphys at ease. The older couple huddled together and held hands.

They looked content, their hearts entwined. Allie envied them. She’d never known that special feeling with a man. She always took off before things got too serious. It was safer that way. Or so she’d always imagined.

The group glanced her way. “I’m Allie,” she said by way of an introduction. When everyone looked at her foot, she added, “Sprained ankle.”

Aidan met her gaze and she felt her cheeks heat. Those around them blurred, and it seemed as if they were the only two people in the vast department store. His expression was open, honest, and searching. He was too damn handsome for his own good. He made her mouth go dry. She wasn’t one for stomach flutters, but he quickened her pulse and buckled her knees. She pulled herself up straight.

She owed him an explanation as to why she’d left Aspen. If she could roll back time, she would have stayed. She’d have fought her fear of commitment. Even though the idea scared the hell out of her.

Hindsight was twenty-twenty. It was too late now. There were few do-overs in life.

Overhead the generators quaked. The machinery must be ancient indeed. The wind howled, and severe gusts rattled the doors and display windows. It was unnerving.

“No telling how bad this storm is going to get,” Aidan said. “I suggest we locate lanterns and flashlights in case we lose electricity.”

“We need to set up a command post,” came from Sam.

“This isn’t the military,” the golfer said, grumbling.

“Fend for yourself then,” said Sam.

Chris’s jaw shifted, and Aidan interceded. “Let’s all move to the third floor, to camping and furniture. We can sit and be comfortable there.”

Sam led the way to the stairs, and Pamela and Chris scooted in behind him. The Murphys assured Aidan they could make the climb. Allie shouldered on her jacket then worked on her right winter boot. She had difficulty fitting her left one.

She struggled for several seconds until Aidan hunkered down beside her. He ran his hands over the woolen sock. She winced, her ankle tender to his touch. “Your boot won’t fit. Your foot’s too swollen.”

She held out her hand. “I’ll carry it then.”

He rose, passed her the sheepskin UGG. Their fingers brushed. His skin was warm and she wanted to hold his hand. She held back, barely. Instead, she carefully slipped the Snow Angels into separate jacket pockets. She then hefted her backpack and followed the snowbound group to the emergency stairs. Aidan brought up the rear with his flashlight.

The going was slow. She toe-tapped around the jewelry counter. Her ankle hurt like a son of a bitch. She locked her jaw and fought the pain. She was determined not to break down before Aidan.

The stairs were especially daunting. The Murphys rounded the curve in the stairwell long before Allie attempted the climb.

She counted the stairs, a total of thirty before the landing, a place where she could rest. She decided hopping was her best bet.

She bit the inside of her cheek and made fifteen steps before she was out of breath. She was halfway there.

She mentally psyched herself to continue. She was a skier in great shape. She could do this . . .

“You’re hurting,” she heard Aidan say over her shoulder.

“Just a little.” She grimaced, keeping her face turned away from him.

“Don’t be stubborn, Allie. You don’t have to go it alone.”

“I’m fine, really,” she insisted. Why did she have to keep proving she was so tough? So she wouldn’t get hurt?

“Sorry, lady, we at Dutton’s aim to please,” Aidan said with a seriousness that surprised her. He handed her the flashlight. “We take care of our customers.”

He swept her up before she could respond, one muscled arm beneath her legs, the other across her back. He held her tightly.

Her whole body went limp. She welcomed his rescue. She wrapped her arms about his neck, breathed in his scent, and absorbed his strength. He was all male.

They ascended slowly, and found the Murphys on the second floor landing. A red emergency light had dimmed to a faint pink. Darkness crowded the corners near the door. It was cold and eerie.

“Only one more flight,” Warren said, short of breath.

“Are the two of you okay?” Aidan asked, concerned. Allie noticed he wasn’t even breathing hard.

“Sure,” Warren said with a wink, as if remembering earlier days when he carried his wife in his arms. “We’re catching our second wind.”

“Let me get Allie to the third floor and I’ll come back and help you,” Aidan offered.

“We’ll be fine,” Marian reassured him. “Warren was a fine athlete in his day. He ran track.”

Warren tapped his cane on the marble floor. “That was sixty years ago, my dear. Back then I was six feet tall and muscled. Age has a way of bending a man. Nowadays I’m lucky to make it from the kitchen to the front door for the newspaper.”

“You’re still the strongest man I know,” his wife praised.

Allie Smith caught the older couple’s smile; a smile as loving as an actual embrace. It was a sweet moment, but a difficult one for her to comprehend. The Murphys’ love stretched decades, whereas her own mother’s relationships were short-lived and unsatisfying. Margo had taught her daughters that men left without notice and women should always leave first. That way the heartbreak hurt less.

Allie had never trusted a man.

Aidan, however, gave her reason to try.

She knew deep in her soul that the blizzard would decide her future with this man.

Beside them now, Warren straightened his shoulders as his wife took his arm. They tackled the steps together. “See you on the third floor,” Warren called over his shoulder.

 

Aidan Dutton watched the older couple move out ahead of them. He clutched Allie closer. He’d noted her struggle on the stairs and that she was in pain. Her swollen ankle gave him an excuse to touch her again. He’d been relieved she hadn’t fought him. Her cheek now pressed his shoulder and he heard her sigh.

He felt suddenly anchored. He didn’t move, just held her close. Years ago, he’d carried Allie from the outdoor cedar tub to his bedroom at the Aspen lodge. They’d both been naked and ready for sex. They’d been incredibly hot for each other. So hot, they steamed the sheets.

He could still picture her, lushly nude, her skin moist, lying on his bed. His body stirred with the memory. He set his back teeth. Arousal was not his friend. Yet he grew hard. He feared he wouldn’t be able to take the stairs. He’d be stuck on the second floor landing for Christmas Eve, craving this woman and stiff as a crowbar.

He drew Allie higher against his chest. He didn’t want her to witness her effect on him. He exhaled slowly. “How’d you hurt your ankle?” he finally asked.

She scrunched her nose. “A college guy’s harmless flirting turned into a snowmobile disaster.”

Aidan would’ve liked to wring the neck of the careless son of a bitch who’d done this to her. He knew men were taken with Allie. He’d witnessed her countless pursuers in Aspen. She looked like an angel, but had an independent streak that would frustrate the Almighty.

The fact that he was the one holding her now was all that mattered. He would have liked to kiss her pain away, but they had unfinished business. Until they cleared the air he needed to concentrate on their present situation. They were in the middle of a blizzard. He had six people under his care.

He cautiously continued up the stairs. His arousal was almost as painful as Allie’s ankle. She was a lightweight, even in her winter wear. She shot the beam up the stairwell, lighting their way.

Up ahead, Warren and Marian patiently waited for Aidan on the third floor landing. Warren held the door wide for them.

Aidan immediately located Sam’s command post. The guard had accomplished a great deal in a very short time. He’d rearranged the leather furniture. A cluster of chairs and a short couch now surrounded an antique rococo coffee table. Battery-operated camping lanterns supplied sufficient light.

The Taser remained visible on the guard’s utility belt. Sam was all huff and puff and built on bravado. Aidan knew the weapon gave him confidence. He wouldn’t blow the man’s cover.

Allie shifted in his arms, her gaze riveted to the amazing view from the tall multi-paned window reminiscent of another time. The fury of the storm fascinated her. Flurries of snow and a wailing wind beat against the glass. Frost so thick it resembled white velvet curtains framed the window. She’d never seen anything like it. The wintry blast held them hostage.

Aidan maneuvered between a black walnut billiard table and a filigree lattice bird cage to reach the group. Two chairs remained. “Pick one,” he said to Allie.

She chose the club chair in Peruvian basket brown. His arms felt oddly empty once he’d set her down. He looked around for an ottoman. She needed to elevate her foot.

He soon found the perfect piece. Allie’s gaze went wide when he set the vintage steamer trunk before her. The top was cushioned with preserved navy fabric from a 1920s seaman’s peacoat. The epaulets and gold buttons bordered each end.

“My sock is dirty from the stairs,” she was quick to say. “I can’t put my foot on something so beautiful.”

“It’s just an ottoman.”

She pointed to the designer label and blinked at the price tag. “It’s one-of-a-kind and very expensive.”

He knelt beside her and lifted her leg so her foot rested comfortably on the peacoat. “Your foot’s more important than a trunk.”

“What will your boss say?” she worried. “I wouldn’t want you to lose your job because of a dirty sock.”

He grinned. Her concern set off pleasant warmth in his chest. “We won’t tell him,” he said, making her roll her eyes. Beautiful eyes, big and filled with a sparkle that reminded him of a Christmas tree ornament brushed a soft blue.

Her gaze went soft and his sex stayed hard. It took him a full minute to pull his body together and stand. He shifted his stance. Twice.

“Now that we’re settled, I’m hungry,” Chris said from the couch. “I missed lunch to do my last-minute Christmas shopping.”

“There should still be a few refrigerated sandwiches at Tealuxe,” Aidan said.

“What kind of sandwiches?” asked Chris.

“Finger sandwiches,” Sam said. “It’s a tea room, golf ball.”

“I do love fancy sandwiches,” said Marian Murphy. “I’d also enjoy a nice cup of peppermint tea.”

“We can do tea,” Aidan assured the older woman. “We can boil water on a portable Coleman stove. There’s an InstaStart among the camping equipment.”

“China cups?” Marian looked hopeful. “We could have a formal tea party.”

Sam grunted. “Tea by lantern light in the middle of a blizzard, why not?”

“There should be a few holiday desserts left over as well,” Aidan told the group. He looked at Allie’s foot. “I’ll bring back a bag of ice to take down the swelling.”

Sam went to retrieve the small stove and a pot which he set on a Tuscan end table. He looked directly at Chris. “Propane’s hooked up. Don’t turn it on until we return if you want to keep your eyebrows.”

Chris shot him a dirty look, but said nothing.

Aidan handed Sam a lantern. Both men then took the stairs to the seventh floor. They’d reached the sixth floor landing when Sam cleared his throat and said, “Allie’s your snow angel.”

Aidan went very still. He should have known he couldn’t keep anything from Sam. He was a wise-ass sometimes, but with an acute sixth sense. The security guard had worked at Dutton’s for twenty-five years. He was loyal and observant. He was also protective of Aidan.

“Why would you say that?” he asked.

“Body language, boss,” Sam said. “The way you carried her upstairs, the way you look at her. Hell, you set her dirty sock on a five thousand dollar steamer trunk. You like her.” Nothing got past Sam.

Aidan crossed his arms over his chest and clutched the lantern tightly. “I met Allie in Aspen three years ago,” he admitted. “Our time together was short.” Too damn short.

Sam narrowed his gaze. “I remember your ski vacation. You dragged your ass for months afterward. You haven’t dated anyone seriously since.”

“The store’s kept me busy.”

“Not that busy,” Sam disagreed. “You took off for Grasse, France, the next spring and spent six months at the House of Molinard during the production of Snow Angel, capturing a woman’s scent. Allie’s scent.”

Aidan’s secret was out. “Keep it man-to-man?” He wasn’t comfortable admitting even to Sam that he’d had Allie on the brain for three long years. She was more than a secret crush. She was his future. Convincing Allie she belonged with him would take some fast talking and a single kiss. In that one kiss he’d know if she still cared for him.

“I’ve never betrayed a trust.” Sam rubbed his knuckles over his jaw. “Your parents confide in me often. Arthur bought Judith a cashmere coat for Christmas. She sponsored a Hebridean whale in his name. There’s an Orca named Arthur Maynard Dutton swimming off the West coast of Scotland.”

Aidan smiled. “Last year, she set up a trust for a Key West dolphin. The year before, she was an advocate for a water buffalo in the Philippines. Dad’s name is spread throughout the world.”

“I know what Santa got you for Christmas,” Sam said, grinning.

“Give me a hint.”

“A blonde with a sprained ankle.”

Aidan damn sure hoped he could keep her. “I’m taking it slow. With any luck, this blizzard will last for several days.” He didn’t trust Allie not to slip out after the storm. He refused to let her disappear again.

“Does she know you’re a Dutton?” Sam asked.

Aidan shook his head. “No, and I’d like to keep it that way. She knows I work retail. A floor supervisor works best. I want her to like me for me. Not for my heritage.”

He rolled his shoulders. “I’m damn glad my parents went to Phoenix for the holidays. I need time alone with Allie before I introduce her to them.”

Sam smiled. “Pamela Parker knows you as Alden.”

“She’s a name dropper.”

“She said the two of you dated.”

“I’ve never met the woman.”

“You’re old news anyway,” Sam said. “She’s already started flirting with putter head.”

Aidan blew out a breath. “It’s going to be a long night.”

The men proceeded up the stairs. “Let’s hope there’s food for seven,” Aidan said. “I told the staff to take home all leftovers. We’re implementing a new menu after the holidays.”

They entered Tealuxe through the heavy leaded glass doors. Aidan paused at the entrance and looked around. The tea room looked lonely. Darkness hung low off the ceiling. He swung his lantern in a wide arc. Antique mirrors reflected the richly polished tables, the red velvet chairs, and settees covered in rich rose satin. Pristine linen was stacked on the tea carts.

An artist had painted a Victorian tea party on two walls. Those of the past and present sipped tea and savored iced scones. It was a blending of eras. A timeless tradition. His mother loved Earl Grey.

Sam crossed the room ahead of Aidan. The plush navy carpeting absorbed his steps. He pushed against the double doors that led to the kitchen, and listened. “The cooler is running, but the freezer’s shut down.”

Aidan came up behind him. “Let’s eat before the food spoils. You collect the dishes—”

Sam frowned. “Paper products are my specialty. I know nothing about china patterns.”

Aidan’s mother favored the Royal Albert Botanical set. “Locate cups, saucers, and dessert plates with red tulips and lavender lilacs.”

Sam grunted. “Isn’t there a pattern with deer and bear?”

“The tea party is for Marian Murphy,” Aidan said. “Let her enjoy it. Don’t forget the tea infusers.”

Sam looked confused and Aidan explained, “The mesh tea balls to steep the loose tea leaves.”

Sam made a few indistinguishable comments under his breath as he packed sets of china in a corrugated box, then located the sterling flatware. “Plastic forks would work just as well,” he muttered, this time loud enough for Aidan to hear.

Aidan raided the commercial refrigerator and walk-in cooler. There was more food than he’d expected. He loaded up on finger sandwiches and desserts, then chose a variety of tea tins. He went on to grab a bag of ice and several Ziplocs while Sam collected the china, a linen tablecloth, napkins, and a box of bottled water. Armed with the necessities, they took the stairs slowly.

“Tea party time,” Sam announced on their return.

Marian Murphy was so excited she clapped her hands.

Her husband Warren smiled at her enthusiasm.

Allie leaned forward in an attempt to help the men unload the boxes. Aidan pressed a hand to her shoulder and eased her back, then gently squeezed her arm. “We’ve got it covered,” he assured her.

“It’s hard for me to sit still and do nothing.”

She was an active woman. He’d witnessed her skiing, and her endurance was phenomenal. In bed, she’d been an Energizer snow bunny. She sat immobile now. Her ankle prohibited activity. She drummed her fingers on the leather armrest. The lady was restless.

“Does Dutton’s sell canes?” she asked.

“This isn’t a medical supply store,” Chris said from the couch.

Aidan ignored him.

Though he would have liked Allie to lean on him, she’d rather manage on her own. “We have opera canes.”

“They sound very formal.”

“You can select one after we’ve eaten.”

He packed a Ziploc with ice and gently placed it over her ankle, swollen to the size of a grapefruit. Not uncommon, he knew, but very painful. She winced, and he wished he could take her pain away. “Tea?” he offered. “Earl Grey, Darjeeling, or peppermint?”

“Darjeeling would be nice.”

Aidan oversaw Sam as he poured water into a pot, then started the portable stove. The water came to a quick boil.

“That’s all you had to do, push a damn button?” Chris was incredulous that Sam hadn’t let him work the stove.

“I also adjusted the flame,” Sam said.

“Chris could’ve done that,” said Pamela Parker, taking the golfer’s side.

Sam’s jaw shifted. “Maybe, maybe not.”

“Let’s not argue.” Marian took charge. She spread the linen tablecloth and set out the place settings. “Look at all these lovely sandwiches.”

A flash of lightning lit up the room, causing everyone to jump and gasp. Seconds later, thunder boomed. The northern windows rattled violently.

“Don’t worry,” Aidan was quick to assure them. “We don’t get thundersnows very often, but for your own safety, stay on the south side of the building.”

Chris didn’t care about the weather; he was more interested in the food. He pulled a face. “These sandwiches are bite size, crustless, and cut into diamonds.”

“It’s a formal tea,” Marian said.

“I can’t fill up on dainty and small,” Chris argued.

“Drink a lot of tea,” suggested Sam.

Tea infusers were distributed and types of tea chosen. Sam added hot water to the china cups. The group selected their sandwiches while their tea steeped.

Aidan filled Allie’s plate. “Cucumber and mint cream cheese, ginger-carrot, and lemon-crab salad.” He added two shortbread cookies and a slice of raspberry sponge cake to the dessert plate before passing it to her.

He settled in beside her, on a black leather wingback to her left. He sipped his Earl Grey and watched her savor each bite. She licked mint cream cheese from the corner of her mouth. The slow sweep of her tongue turned Aidan on.

He remembered her kisses. He could still recall the moist heat of her mouth as she licked her way down his chest. She’d tasted every inch of his skin, then gotten creative with her hands. There was passion in her touch, a need to rouse him fully. He’d remained erect for hours at a time.

His body stirred even now. He set the saucer over his zipper. The china didn’t fully disguise the tent in his pants. He discreetly reached into his side pocket and made an adjustment. He didn’t want Allie to notice her effect on him. Attraction was a bitch.

“These sandwiches are delicious,” she said seconds later. “This is my first afternoon tea.”

“My first and last,” said Chris as he cleared his plate of the finger sandwiches and started on a gingerbread scone. “I’ll never shop Dutton’s again.”

“It’s not the store’s fault you got caught in the blizzard,” Sam said between bites of pineapple and smoked salmon on a pumpernickel wedge. “You must live under a rock. The storm’s been forecast for days. Most people took its arrival seriously. You should have left for Atlanta earlier in the week.”

“I’m not a weather watcher,” Chris said, going on the defensive. “I had no idea the storm would get so bad I’d end up starving and freezing in a department store.”

“Hardly starving.” Sam glared at the golfer. “You’ve eaten ten tea sandwiches, but who’s counting?”

“I, for one, am enjoying myself.” Marian Murphy reached for a second tiny cream puff. “We’re not leaving anytime soon. Let’s get to know each other better.”

“Better how?” Chris looked suddenly wary.

“Tell us something about you,” Pamela encouraged. “We know you’re a professional golfer.”

“That’s all you need to know,” Chris said.

“That’s all I want to know,” said Sam.

“You’re a security guard.” Chris looked down his nose at Sam. “You work at Dutton’s—”

“—and he runs the tightest security on State Street.” Allie straightened on her chair. “Nothing gets by Sam. He’s a major crime fighter.”

“So you say,” said Chris.

“So I know,” Allie said. “Right before the store closed, Sam thought I was a thief. He stopped me in my tracks.”

Aidan watched Sam watch Allie. Sam’s chest swelled as he patted his utility belt. “It’s the Taser. My weapon puts the fear of God in shoplifters. I’m the only guard on the block packing.”

“Sam’s taken good care of us,” Marian said. “Aidan, too.”

“Great care,” Chris snorted. “How difficult was it to go to the tea room and bring back food?”

“You can fix dinner,” Sam said.

“I love to eat,” said Pamela. “I wish we were in New York. Post-theater Sardi’s has the best sirloin and cheesecake in the city.”

“Are you on Broadway?” Marian asked.

Pamela preened. “I’ll soon be performing at the Colbert Theater. Peaches is a romantic comedy.”

Aidan watched her flirt with the golfer. Her gaze was fixed on Chris as she leaned against him with her big breasts. Her body language said it all. No doubt the redhead hoped to snag a trophy boyfriend to get some publicity for herself. Pamela appeared very press friendly.

He knew Allie would never act in such a manner. That was another thing he liked about her. She didn’t play those games.

“Interesting title for your play,” Warren Murphy commented. “Is it about fruit?”

“I flash my boobs.”

Warren’s jaw dropped.

Marian’s gaze went wide.

“I bet you’re good in your role,” Chris said.

Aidan saw the appreciative look in the golfer’s eyes. Chris was imagining himself sitting in the first row when Pamela took the stage.

“The orange body paint clashes with my red hair,” Pamela complained, “but I have the best D-cups in the theater district.”

“Care to rehearse the play now?” asked Chris.

“Not in the store.” Aidan put a stop to the theatrics. “Save it for the performance.”

Pamela was stacked, and Chris apparently liked bigbreasted women. The golfer leaned back on the couch and slipped his arm around the actress. Pamela smiled, equally taken by his company. Aidan would need a crowbar or fire hose to separate them later.

Marian looked at Allie. “How about you, dear? Any showbiz in your blood?”

Allie shook her head. “I’m a ski instructor.”

“Not a very good one, given your ankle,” Chris said.

“I wasn’t skiing when I got hurt,” Allie said, and left it at that.

“Where do you teach?” Warren next asked.

“Wherever there’s fresh powder,” Allie said. “I have contracts with several ski resorts. I shift around.”

“Here today, gone tomorrow.” Aidan spoke the words without thinking. He could feel Allie’s gaze bore into him. He felt like a jerk for letting that slip out. He and Allie deserved privacy when they discussed their past.

To his relief, no one but Allie heard him. The group had switched topics and was now discussing the Christmas events each would surely miss.

Allie leaned forward, fiddled with the bag of ice on her ankle. “I’m prone to disappear,” she softly admitted.

“I’m familiar with that fact,” he whispered back. “You left me, remember?”

Her breathing deepened. “I had my reasons.”

“Give me one.” He needed the truth.

“You scare the hell out of me, Aidan.”