The Shadows Of Christmas Past Part 26

An hour or so later, the Montgomerys drove away with a happy German shepherd in the back of their SUV, and Marj headed for the house.

Harry put his arm around her waist when she reached the porch. "I see you didn't give Noel away.

You're going to keep her. Taffy will be pleased."

She relaxed against him. Despite the difference in their sizes, they fit together very well. "I didn't do it just for Taffy." She gave a resigned sigh. "Once I let something into my house, I have trouble letting it go."

"I'll keep that in mind," he said, then turned her toward the door. "Come on, I have something to show you."

chapter 8.

"Have you been wolf hunting today?" she asked, as he closed the door behind them.

"I'm saving that for tonight," Harry answered. "Today I worked on my case. Come on, I'll show you."

Keeping his arm around her, he led her down the hall to the living room. Taffy and Noel tagged along behind them.

When he'd explored the house that morning, he'd found that the living room had a very unlived-in feel to it. In fact, but for the kitchen and Marj's bedroom, the whole place felt abandoned. Everything was clean and neatly in place, but there wasn't any life to this house. Maybe it was just too big for one person.

Maybe Marj's office and the animal shelter were the places her heart called home.

"Now, you're going to wonder what relevance what you're about to see has to luring the kids out of the mountains. I'll explain, but first close your eyes."

He watched to see that she obeyed, then put his hands on her shoulders and guided her to the center of the living room. He positioned her so that she'd see the corner between the living room window and the fireplace.

"Okay. You can look now."

Her body stiffened beneath his touch when she opened her eyes. He'd suspected that she be briefly annoyed at his presumption, but he hadn't expected such deep anger. Or the almost physical wave of pain and grief that washed over her and into him.

"Marj?" He pulled her back against him to wrap his arms protectively around her.

"What have you done?" she demanded. "What right did you have-?"

"It's Christmas," he pointed out. "A house needs a Christmas tree."

He'd found the boxes in a closet. One contained the pieces of an eight-foot artificial pine tree. Other boxes had held Christmas ornaments, candles, lights, and decorations. He'd spent an hour moving some furniture and a.s.sembling the tree in the best place to be seen through the window. He'd placed gold and red candles on the coffee table and mantel, then lit them and a fire in the fireplace.

"I put a few of the ornaments on the tree," he told her, "so it would be pretty when you first saw it." She continued to stay stiff and very still in his arms. "You don't like it, do you?"

"You had no right." She choked on a sob. "No right."

"I didn't think you'd mind."

"Ihate Christmas!"

"That's not true. You wouldn't have been at the Holiday Fete if you did."

"Alice made me."

"n.o.body makes you do anything," he scoffed. "You're too alpha to do as you're told."

"Christmas is okay for other people," she conceded. "I wish them well."

"You give your Taffy eggnog. You named the greyhound Noel."

"That was luck of the draw. I'm indifferent to the holiday for myself. Please take down the tree."

"I want to use it to lure the kids out of hiding."

That stopped her. "How?"

"They'll see it through the window when they come looking for work, and it'll be a reminder of what they're missing."

"That's cynical."

"No. It is a reminder of what they're missing. And it's a reminder for you, too. You need to come back from being so alone and aloof-or you wouldn't be reacting so strongly."

"Let me go."

He cradled her gently instead. Sometimes people needed contact, whether they thought they did or not, whether they were psychic or not.

The connection between him and Marj was stronger than he'd thought. Her grief, and her effort to bury it, rocked him. He turned her, so that they were facing each other, he cradled her head, and guided it to rest on his chest. "Cry if you need to."

"I don't want to." Her words were m.u.f.fled in his s.h.i.+rt.

"Then tell me all about it. Do whatever helps."

"I hate Christmas." She lifted her head to look up at him, tears bright in he eyes. "I just do."

"Because your father died this time last year."

"He died at the end of November," she answered, a catch in her voice. "How do you know about it?"

"Research. I've read over a year's worth of the town's newspapers since I started on this case, including obituaries."

She accepted the explanation with a grudging nod, and a tear spilled down her cheek. "I don't want to go through-the memories. Christmas-it just reminds me-last year was-Christmas sucks."

"Christmas sucked last year," he said. "This year it's time to start over. Christmas is about birth, beginnings, hope, light in the darkness-all that good stuff. And presents. Don't you want presents? And parties? And lights and music, and trees and all the good stuff."

"You sound like Alice."

"She's a soprano, I'm a baritone. But if she's trying to get you back into the world, she's right." Harry loved life, he loved the world. He ached to show Marj that the world was beautiful again. "Hiding is only a temporary refuge."

"Who says?"

"Me. You need to remember you're alive."

Then he kissed her. There was simply nothing else he could do. What surprised him was the pa.s.sionate hunger of her response and the way her mouth opened eagerly beneath his. The salt taste of her tears was on his tongue, her lips soft. The heat of her body and the scent of her skin went to his head.

His hands moved down her back, caressing and drawing her nearer. He sensed her surprise at her own reactions, that a part of her was fighting to gain control.

Oh, no, what this woman needed was a good loss of control.

Whathe needed was her.

He broke the kiss long enough to literally sweep Marj off her feet. She was so much smaller that holding her in his arms was easy. And cradling her against his chest was the most natural thing in the world.

"What the-"

He swung around and started out of the living room. "I'm not making love in front of the dogs," he declared.

Taffy and Noel were standing nearby, gazing at them with the sort of enthusiastic doggy attention that said they wanted to play, too. He almost regretted leaving the living room, with the romantic holiday air he'd created with the tree, the soft candlelight and cozy fire. But they could make love there later. Right now, he wanted the comfortable intimacy of her big, wide bed.

Harry carried her all the way to her bedroom, and Marj was shocked at herself for not protesting once.

This man was little more than a stranger! Yet his kiss did something to stem the aching loneliness. She desperately needed his kisses, and more.

She's spent a year in h.e.l.l, and somehow, Harry held out the promise of heaven.

She shouldn't want him so badly that her body ached with the need. But she'd wanted him since she'd first seen him in Murphy's.

Everything female in her had woken up and caught fire at the first sight of his eagle-nosed profile, the heavy lock of hair falling across his forehead, the s.e.xy slash of his mouth, the wide shoulders and narrow hips. His smile, his confidence... his hands. Good G.o.d, what gorgeous, big, competent hands! She'd noticed them from the start. And wanted them on her from the start.

She wanted them on her now.

When he dosed the bedroom door and set her on the bed, she pulled him down beside her. He came with a smile, and a burning kiss that left her breathless.

"Touch me," she said, placing his hand on her breast. "Here. Everywhere."

"I will," he promised.

He stroked her then, and slowly peeled her clothes away. His lips followed where his hands explored, and she caressed him. His hard-muscled body was a wonder to her. It was a long time since she'd been with anyone, but even if she'd been more experienced, Harry was still a revelation. She was amazed at how bold she could be with him, how greedy she was to touch and taste and claim every inch of him. She took great pleasure in exploring his body, loosening his clothes as she went. His turtleneck came off first.

She liked his chest, with its well-defined muscles and pattern of dark hair that arrowed down in a vee to his flat stomach.

"You work out," she said, and traced her hands over him.

"Nope," he answered. "You are so beautiful," he told her.

"I work out. Well, I lift a lot of bags of animal feed."

Then they kissed for a long time, bodies and mouths melded together for a long, arousing time.

When Harry got up to shed his trousers and underwear, she leaned up on an elbow to watch him strip. It felt deliciously decadent, really, watching a big, gorgeous man taking off his clothes for her.

He turned around, and she had the pleasure of studying his bare backside while he searched through his dropped clothing.

"Ah," he said. When he came back, he was holding a condom packet.

Marj moved beside him and stroked his erection, loving the weight and heat filling her hand, wanting that same feeling inside of her.

Within moments, Harry leaned her back on the bed. He caressed the insides of her thighs, and higher.

His fingers danced and teased over her inner folds and c.l.i.toris. When she moaned and arched her hips upward, his mouth came down on her. His tongue drew more than moans from her; an o.r.g.a.s.m pulsed through her almost instantly. She cried out, and her fingers stroked through his hair.

He moved up her body, sliding skin on skin, then he came inside her. His hardness filled her, the fit completely perfect. They moved together slowly at first, setting up a gentle rhythm, savoring each other, letting the pleasure rise and build.

It wasn't long, though, before his strokes became deeper, faster, and she rose to meet them with a hard-driving need of her own.

The pa.s.sion building to overwhelm her was more than just physical. He was inside her, their bodies joined, but there was another joining, something wonderful between them that went far beyond physical release. They were- Mated.

She felt it as well as thought it, and the word and the feeling belonged to both of them. This was a pa.s.sion that was deeper, richer.

Roaring, rus.h.i.+ng sensation overtook her, an explosion so wonderfully intense that she was consumed in long, lingering brightness that faded slowly back into the real world.

"Whoa," was the most coherent thing she could manage after she finally came back into herself.

"Ditto." Harry was a hot, heavy weight on top of her, and his lips were near her ear. He nibbled on her earlobe, sending little lightning flickers of renewed desire from her head to her toes.

"You're good," she said.

He gave a satisfied sigh. "I know."

What might have seemed arrogant and irritating to her before just made her laugh now, a low, breathy, downright dirty laugh.

He kissed her throat just beneath her ear, then moved slowly down her neck, her cheek, her eyelid, her jaw, her shoulder. Each quick, tender touch sent pleasure through her. His hand found her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, and her nipples were instantly hard and sensitive against his palm. His lips soon replaced his hand on her breast, and his hand moved down between her legs.

She'd thought herself completely satisfied, sated, melted with happy exhaustion. But within only a few moments, she was alive with desire all over again.

"I'm good " he said. "You're better."

Then they made love all over again.

chapter 9.