Chapter Three

Aidan’s expression froze. Allie Smith watched every handsome line on his face go rigid. Confusion pitched his gray eyes charcoal-dark. He didn’t understand. How could he? He didn’t know that every few months as a kid she’d been forced to uproot and move on, whether she’d wanted to or not. Town to town. Always wandering. Her mother had never found love, so why should she?

Beside her, Aidan shifted uneasily. He ran a hand through his thick, dark hair, and one side spiked. “Scary how, Allie?”

“Not Halloween scary,” she assured him. She didn’t want to talk about it, but if she didn’t say something, he’d think she didn’t feel anything for him. That scared her more. So she opted for the truth. She said in a low voice, “Heart scary.”

“You’re afraid of getting hurt?”

“This is very hard for me,” she said, hoping for his understanding. “I don’t do feelings, and you made me care.”

“Who cares?” Chris asked, poking his nose into their conversation, which didn’t sit well with Pamela. She crossed her arms and pouted. She wanted all his attention.

They had an audience, Allie realized. She hadn’t expected the truth behind her departure to surface while sitting around a coffee table in the dark with five other people staring at her.

“No one you’d know.” Aidan brushed him off.

Chris shrugged, continued, “The little I heard, I’d say you two have a past and are still hot for each other.”

“They make such a cute couple,” said Marian Murphy.

“You’ve got her undivided attention during the blizzard,” added Warren. “Go on, boy, court her.”

“If the lady is willing?” Aidan offered, meeting her gaze and daring her to commit, to them.

“I might be so inclined.” She’d love to have Aidan flirt with her. But first they needed to talk. Seriously. Perhaps they could find a quiet corner while they went shopping for her opera cane.

Allie looked at the coffee table, at the empty tea cups and one lone almond cookie, which Chris confiscated. To her relief, no one asked anything more about their brief affair. In truth, there wasn’t much to tell. She wasn’t sure what had motivated Aidan to make public his interest in her, but she wasn’t about to let the matter drop. When the time was right, she’d try to explain to him how she felt. She shook her head in frustration, so often words failed her.

Across the coffee table, Marian dabbed her mouth with a linen napkin. “That was nice while it lasted.”

“Now what?” Chris asked, drilling his fingers on the leather armrest. “Do we sit and stare at the ceiling?”

“You expect entertainment?” asked Sam.

Aidan grew thoughtful. “You could Christmas shop,” he suggested. “Find a gift for yourself. Compliments of Dutton’s.”

That was all Pamela Parker needed to hear. She shot off the couch like a rocket. “We can shop for free?”

“In moderation,” Aidan said, wondering if he’d opened a Pandora’s Box with the name Dutton on it.

“You’ve already chosen two dresses,” Sam reminded her.

“My plans are shot for Christmas Eve dinner. Instead I got stuck with tea sandwiches,” Pamela said. “I need something fancy for New Year’s Eve. I’m hoping for that special invitation to sparkle.” She smiled big at Chris, who grinned back.

A match had been made in the middle of a blizzard, Aidan realized. He wondered if he and Allie would be a couple when the sun again shone and the snow started to melt.

“Shop in twos or threes,” Aidan said. “Don’t wander around the store alone. It’s too dark. I don’t want anyone getting lost or hurt.”

“The buddy system works for me.” Chris pushed to his feet. He picked up a lantern off the coffee table, then let his gaze shift to Pamela’s chest. “I’ll go with Peaches.”

Aidan exhaled. Talk about bosom buddies.

“Let’s start in formal wear, then go to sporting apparel,” Pamela suggested. “I’ll help you pick out the perfect golf shirt.”

“If this is a free shopping spree, I’m looking at more than a shirt.” Chris took Pamela’s hand. His next words were meant to impress her. “Maybe a set of Majesty Prestigio clubs and the Damier Geante canvas golf bag.”

“Go slow, golf pro,” Sam said, raising his hand. “Callaway wouldn’t approve.”

Chris frowned. “Who’s Callaway?”

“Your most recent endorsement on the Tour,” Sam reminded him.

“How the hell would you know?” Chris demanded.

“I read an article in Golf Forum.”

“The Forum is the National Inquirer of golf.” Chris elbowed Pamela forward. “I’ve not signed with Callaway. Mind your own business.” He stormed off, Peaches in tow.

Warren looked at Sam, his expression serious. “It seems you know more about Chris Johnson than he knows about himself.”

“From what I know of the man, he’s a regular guy on the golf course,” said Sam. “Johnson appreciates his fans, supports numerous charities. He’s not pushy or a hot head.”

“Will the real Chris Johnson please stand up,” Allie said. And Aidan nodded.

“Good luck figuring the man out.” Warren went on to help Marian to her feet. They each took a lantern. “My wife and I are headed to crystal and fine china. She had her eye on a vase before the electricity failed.”

“Get the vase for her birthday along with separate gifts for yourselves,” Aidan invited.

“You’re good to us, son,” Marian said softly. “I’d hate to have the Duttons angry that you gave away store items.” She looked at her husband. “We’re happy to pay.”

“That won’t be necessary. I’d be pleased if you’d accept my holiday hospitality,” Aidan said. “Would you like assistance upstairs?”

“It’s only one floor up. We’re quite capable of the climb,” Marian assured him.

They moved off, arm-in-arm.

Sam waited until the Murphys were beyond earshot before saying, “I’m warning you, boss, Chris Johnson is bad news. The man’s a poser. I feel it in my bones. The Damier Geante is designed by Louis Vuitton. It’s a millionaire’s French fashion accessory on the green, not a touring professional’s golf bag. Chris would leave his competition speechless, and not in a good way.”

“Maybe he’s a psychological gamer,” Aidan said. “Most athletes depend on talent and skill to win, yet there are those who show off and psyche out their opposition with expensive gear. It’s like bringing a platinum-covered bazooka to a knife fight.”

“Or a buxom redhead to a poker game,” Sam added with a smirk. “She’d take the other players’ minds off their cards.”

Allie looked at Sam, asked, “You think Chris isn’t who he claims?”

“Callaway Golf would expect him to be a walking billboard for their gear,” Sam said. “There’s something about Chris that bothers me. The Chris Johnson on the circuit is gracious. The man with us now is full of himself.”

What Sam said made sense, Allie realized. Maybe the guard was onto something. “Why would Chris want to fool us?” she asked.

“He doesn’t appear smart enough for identity theft,” Sam said. “I’d say it’s all about being in the spotlight. Athletes get a lot of attention. He’s already attracted Pamela.”

“People shouldn’t pretend to be someone they’re not,” Allie said, meaning it. “It’s dishonest.”

She saw a muscle jerk in Aidan’s jaw, and wondered why he flinched. He grew uneasy, pushing forward on his chair, rubbing his palms down his thighs.

“I’m going to clean up, then check on Chris and Pamela.” Sam quickly stacked the china in the corrugated box. He held up the bag of ice. “It’s melting, but should remain cold for a couple more hours.”

Allie eased the Ziploc off her ankle. She wiggled her foot and judged its flexibility. Less swelling, little pain. “I’m better, thanks.”

“Take it slow,” Sam said, concerned. He then snagged a lantern and looked at Aidan. “My nose is to the ground—I’m tracking Johnson.”

“No confrontation or zapping him with the Taser,” Aidan warned.

The security guard patted his duty utility belt. “There’s always pepper spray.” He departed.

Only Allie and Aidan remained. She could barely see out the big window from where she sat. The snowfall was thick and blindingly white. Three lanterns cast light while the darkness hugged close. The generators sounded like pounding fists, fighting off the storm.

She turned, caught Aidan in profile. She liked looking at him when he wasn’t looking at her. She let her gaze wander over his mussed dark hair, the width of his forehead, the arch of his cheekbone, and the sexy curve of his mouth. She could picture him captured in a magazine ad for men’s cologne or, even better, ski apparel. He was that handsome.

She cleared her throat, said, “Sam’s certain Chris isn’t who he claims. Does that matter to you? A person pretending to be someone he’s not?”

He visibly hesitated. “Perhaps he has a reason.”

“What you see is what you get where I’m concerned.”

“I like what I see, when you stick around for me to see you,” Aidan said.

She understood. “We’re back to Frost Peak Lodge.”

“Can we discuss our night together?”

She nodded. “In due time, my opera cane first, our talk second.”

“No running away from me this time, promise?”

“I couldn’t hop far.”

Aidan handed her a lantern, then lifted and carried her down the stairs. The strength in his big body encompassed her. She tipped her head and breathed in against his neck. His scent was spicy citrus. She was fascinated by the pulse at the base of his throat, its beat rhythmically strong. She wanted nothing more than to climb into his shirt pocket and live beside his heart.

She turned slightly in his arms and assisted with the first floor emergency door. He pushed through, walked her to the jewelry counter. In the lantern light, the polished glass shone but the shelves were bare.

A few steps beyond jewelry, Opera Night came to life in a display of black top hats, satin capes, opera glasses, and ornate canes.

“Have you been to the opera?” she asked.

He nodded. “I recently attended opening night of A Masked Ball by Verdi.”

Allie had seen him naked, yet she could also picture him in a tux. He had a distinctive air about him. He’d be one gorgeous man, all formal and groomed.

She wondered whom he’d taken to the opera, no doubt someone special. Jealousy tugged at her heart. She knew so little about his personal life.

Aidan brushed his fingers across her brow, smoothing its crease. “Jealous?” he asked, reading her mind. “I like that, Allie, but don’t think so hard. My parents gave me the ticket to the opera. My mother supports the arts. It was a family night out.”

“Did you enjoy A Masked Ball?” She was curious. “I don’t know the story.”

“The king was in love with his best friend’s wife and she was in love with him,” he told her. “Desperate to end her ardor, she turns to a sorceress for help, but it’s too late. Their secret is out and the devastated husband takes revenge.”

Aidan shifted her weight, set her down, a slow slide of heat and awareness that lit her up like a string of Christmas tree lights. Friction sparked and popped all over her body as her soft flesh pressed up against his hard muscle.

Her nipples went taut, peaked, and heat licked up her thighs. She realized in that moment how much she’d missed him. When his mouth came dangerously close to hers, she parted her lips, hoping he would kiss her. He didn’t. Instead, he looked at her with a hunger that promised more than a kiss when the time was right.

Her knees were so weak she could barely stand. She held onto his arms and steadied herself. She didn’t want to let him go.

She stood on her right foot, bent her left leg like a flamingo. She didn’t want to put weight on her foot. Her ankle ached, but no longer throbbed.

“Pain tolerance?” he asked.

“Bearable,” she said. “Time has a way of healing everything.”

“So they say,” he said wryly. “It’s not always true.”

She’d never meant to hurt him.

She’d never meant for their time together to go beyond great sex. Yet it had. He’d been under her skin for three long years. The time was close upon her to open her heart and let Aidan in. Dealing with her insecurities was turning out to be more difficult than she’d ever imagined.

Trying to keep her nerves steady, Allie looked around. Even in the darkness, the scent of money prevailed. Aidan definitely worked high-end retail. If she lived in Chicago, she’d window shop Dutton’s, but wouldn’t enter the store. Its elegance made her feel poor.

“How long have you worked here?” she asked Aidan.

He was slow to answer. “Fifteen years.”

“You’re the first floor supervisor?”

He nodded.

“What’s your advancement? Second floor?”

He grinned at her. “I move around the store as needed. Supervisor is just a title.”

“How well do you know the Duttons?”

Again, he appeared indecisive. “They treat their staff like family.”

“This is a magnificent store . . .”

“But?” He heard the hesitation in her voice.

“It’s too expensive for my blood. I could barely afford the Snow Angels.” She sighed. “Do you ever run sales?”

He shook his head. “Sorry, no.”

“Your shoppers are loyal?”

“They fly in from all over the world.”

“You have job security, Aidan.”

“Same as you, Allie. When it snows, you teach skiing.”

She lowered her gaze, studied her ankle. “This is my moneymaking season. I hope I can return to the slopes.”

“Have you seen a doctor? Had X-rays?”

She heard his concern. And her heart warmed. “I’ll see a specialist after Christmas. I would have set up an appointment sooner, but I was in a hurry to get to Chicago to spend time with my sisters.”

“Instead of your sisters, you’re stuck at Dutton’s.”

“With you.” The words slipped out, soft and sincere.

She sucked in her breath. She wasn’t sorry for what she’d said. Her heart raced when she realized he seemed happy to hear them. The sudden seriousness of his expression took her by surprise as well as the intensity of his gaze.

He set the lantern on a shelf next to a pair of French opera glasses, then took to touching her, gently, possessively. Reassuringly. He cupped her chin, ran his thumb along her jaw line. He pressed into the plumpness of her lower lip and drew her close enough to kiss her. Yet still he held back. Why?

He went on to slide his fingers down her neck to her throat. The tips came to a rest on her rapid pulse. Hunger darkened his eyes and her stomach fluttered. He wanted her, and she was sensitive to his need pressing hard against her belly. A familiar hardness that promised pleasure.

Anticipation thickened the air.

Silence hovered with indecision.

Aidan eased back and released her. “Your cane.” He pointed to a dozen opera canes, their handles looped over velvet hooks along the wall. “Take your pick.”

Allie took them in, all highly polished, some richly embellished with jewels. She moved through the display, running her fingertips over the handles. All were works of art from the blue marble, black pearl, diamond encrusted burgundy leather, to the scrimshaw lion. How could she possibly choose? Every one was out of her league.

“These are too pricey, Aidan,” she said. “A simple walking stick would do just fine.”

“No trees, no branches, no sticks,” he said. “Choose a cane or I’ll be forced to carry you.”

His carrying her was good; her self-sufficiency even better. While she appreciated his help, she wasn’t ready to depend on him. Trust took time.

“You’ve spoiled me long enough,” she said, then went back to debating the canes.

Aidan Dutton could spoil Allie Smith for a lifetime if she’d let him. Sometime a man just knew a woman was meant for him. Allie went way beyond an Aspen holiday affair.

That’s why he hadn’t kissed her when she’d looked up at him, her lips moist, her eyes wide. He didn’t want to get carried away until they’d hammered out all that was wrong between them. They had baggage.

He watched now as Allie tested each cane before coming to a decision. He smiled when she finally chose his favorite, the one with a crystal-cut rose handle and Lucite shaft. It was a woman’s cane, feminine, formal, yet durable, and would give her balance.

She wobbled in a small circle, smiled. “Let the fat lady sing.” She then moved slowly down the aisle, away from him.

Aidan watched her fade beyond the emergency lighting. He knew she wouldn’t be foolish enough to go far. More than anything, he wanted to discuss their past. Yet given her pleasure in the cane, he decided to let her roam the store at will. His store. He would save that confession for later. Much later.

She returned to him, slower now, as if her short walk had tired her. He picked up the lantern and went to meet her halfway. Her gaze was bright and her cheeks flushed. She looked beautiful to him.

“I could get used to this opera cane.” She tapped it on the black marble floor. “It feels—” she paused, searched for the right word, and came up with, “grand.”

“I could make you feel grander,” he said. “Care to try on a long gown to go with your cane?”

Her eyes rounded. “Dress up and pretend to go to the opera?”

“You could pick out long gloves and opera glasses too.”

Her breathing slowed, and her deliberation was long and significant. She looked ill at ease yet determined when she confessed, “Fancy isn’t me, Aidan. I can’t be someone I’m not. I’m more ski attire than formal wear. I’ve only dressed up once in my entire life. That was for a charity event in support of wildlife preservation.”

“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.