Mountain Angel (Northstar Angels, Book One) Page 17

  “Sleep with me tonight, Pat.”

  “Aeli—”

  She put a finger to his lips to silence his objection. “I said sleep, Pat. You shouldn’t be alone.”

  “I don’t think—”

  “Let me hold you tonight.” She slid against his body and tucked his arms around her. “To keep the nightmares at bay.”

  He knew he should refuse, but it was what he needed. The kiss she pressed to his lips was feather-light and encouraging. It lacked the fiery passion from earlier that afternoon, but offered what he needed more: comfort. He tightened his arms around her and drew her deeper into him. His eyes slid closed as her mouth asked for just a little more and he was stunned to find he could give it. Her hands slid up his sides to his ribs. She was as gentle as Sara had been rough and claimed him just as fully, but the emotion she evoked with her tender caresses was something he’d never felt before.

  I love you, Aelissm, he thought. God help us both, but I love you.

  “Come to bed with me, Pat.”

  She paused only long enough to close the door of the woodstove and light the little hurricane lantern sitting on the counter. It would have been easier to flip the light switch, but Pat was glad for the dim glow of the flame. He didn’t think he could handle the harsh glare of electric light right now. He followed her up the stairs and immediately—habitually—slipped his gun back under his pillow, then took off his boots and socks. He started to go through the motions of changing for bed when he realized Aelissm hadn’t closed her door to undress. Her back was to him, painted with golden light and deep shadow and he stared, mesmerized by those silky lines of shoulder, back, hip, arm and leg, by the cascade of shining gold hair and the sinfully soft skin.

  It was all he could do to avert his eyes when she stripped off her delicate, black satin and lace undergarments. His brain had ceased to function. He couldn’t think to find his flannel pajama pants and he wondered if that hadn’t been her intention. He certainly wasn’t thinking about Sara—other than to realize that gym-toned bitch had nothing on Aelissm Davis—because there was no room in his mind. It was full of Aeli’s gorgeous body caressed by lantern light.

  “Having a little trouble in there, Pat?”

  He raised his eyes from the floor to find her buttoning her flannel. Even in that loose shirt and boxer shorts, she was sexy.

  “Here, let me help.”

  Again, she was so gentle that he could do nothing but give in to her. She carefully unbuttoned his shirt and peeled it down over his shoulders. It was an incredible thing, to be the center of her attention, to be touched so softly and with the same curiosity she might have shown an exquisite carving. After she’d pulled his plain white undershirt over his head and tossed it away, she hesitated. Her fingers danced across his bare skin, exploring the physical scars Sara had left and taking in the lines of him. He didn’t flinch or pull away, not even when she stood on her toes to kiss his lips again. Not even when she kissed his neck and his chest.

  “Shirt or no shirt?” she murmured. “I’d prefer bare skin.”

  He didn’t answer. Couldn’t.

  She was tender when she unbuckled his belt and pulled his jeans down. He obediently sat down on his bed and she freed his legs from his pants, tossing them on top of the pile with the rest of his clothes. She dragged his pajama pants out of the dresser and handed them to him, then turned away so he could strip what little he still wore and change.

  “Good enough?” she asked, her voice barely louder than a purr. When he said nothing, she turned to find him clad in his sleepwear. After pausing a moment longer to look him over and smile, she took his hand and led him into her bedroom. She directed him to the bed and asked him to get in it without any force at all, sensing, no doubt, that even a playful shove might break this fragile peace she’d woven around him.

  She cupped her hand over the chimney of the lantern and blew, plunging the room into darkness. Moments later, she slid into bed beside him. He fell easily into a healing sleep wrapped in her soothing embrace, his last conscious thought being a silent prayer of thanks for this pure-hearted angel.

  Chapter Eleven

  AELISSM COULDN’T IMAGINE what Pat would feel like come morning. What had happened between her and Bryce seemed like a playful disagreement compared to what Pat had endured. Bryce had died that night, but somehow even that now seemed detached, as though it had happened to someone else and she hadn’t been struggling to free herself just hours before her fiancé had succumbed to death. Pat had been stabbed. He couldn’t escape that memory like she could hers. She hadn’t actually seen Bryce die. She hadn’t been the one to find his body. The dark wanderings of her mind could be dismissed—though not easily—as being unproven scenarios. The thought of Pat having to relive that moment when the knife had pierced him, unable to hide behind the excuse of “well, maybe it didn’t happen that way”, made her shudder.

  He seemed to be sleeping peacefully enough, she was glad to note. His breathing was deep and steady and he hadn’t shifted in some while. Unconsciously, she curled a little closer around him, hoping that airing out his bad memories would help him like it had helped her. She knew, without a doubt, that talking about Bryce and Adam with Pat had helped her take a step back and look at the whole situation from a new perspective. For God’s sake, she’d barely been afraid last night when Pat told her Adam had called. Even when she’d seen that he’d called from Devyn. She had reached the point, at last, that she could be angry about what Adam was doing to her. That was a good sign, wasn’t it? She didn’t feel so much like the scared little rabbit anymore.

  Pat would need some distraction tomorrow, she decided, and since it was apparent sleep had no plan to relieve her busy mind any time soon, she occupied herself by making plans for the day ahead. She wondered if Nick would be up for another day on horseback, then dismissed the idea at once. Pat probably wouldn’t be up to company just yet and she selfishly wanted him all to herself. He’d just cut his heart open for her and she wasn’t quite ready to give up such a perfect reason to be close to him.

  Part of her was drawn to his vulnerability, but the woman in her wouldn’t be silenced. It was better than she’d fantasized to be lying beside this warm, wounded man, curled around him with her arm around his waist and her knees tucked in behind his. That she wanted to do a lot more with him than sleep was a fact she could easily recognize in the darkness with only her desire for conscious company.

  “What am I going to do with myself when you leave, Pat?” she whispered with a sigh. She kissed his bare shoulder and shivered with a strong flood of possessiveness. “If only you could stay….”

  Aelissm pushed the thought away, deciding that she’d enjoy him—as much of him as he’d allow—while she could. If she was heading for a broken heart, she might as well have a little fun along the way. Live for the moment, right?

  She could make him a nice breakfast to start the day off. And after that, they could sit out on the back porch for a while and talk some more. She could show him some of the roads and trails around the mountain, spend the afternoon riding the dirt bikes. Then, she’d finish the day off with a cozy dinner—stew, maybe, or a roast—light some candles and spend the rest of the evening curled up on the couch together or have June and Luke over to play cards. They still hadn’t had a card night yet. If Pat was up to it, that might be a good idea. Relaxing morning, a good ride to work out any lingering aggression and a night full of laughter struck her as the perfect combination to sooth Pat’s tattered heart.

  Appeal to his subconscious, a sly voice in the back of her mind purred, show him how nice staying could be.

  She snorted. Two months ago, fear of Adam had been the forerunning thought in her mind, and now her mind was incapable of thinking about anything or anyone but Patrick O’Neil. A feline smile curved her lips. There were far worse things to be drowned by. She laid her cheek against his shoulder and closed her eyes. The touch of his skin, hot against hers, evoked carnal urges like she�
��d never felt.

  The only thought that kept her from waking Pat and begging him to make love to her was concern for his state of mind. She’d just asked him to lacerate his emotions for her and he’d done it willingly, so the least she could do was let him sleep in peace. He needed that sleep and the warmth and comfort of friendship she’d offered. That’s why she’d offered it. Or, that was mostly why.

  “If only sleep would be kind enough to take me away,” she muttered, pointedly ignoring the little voice in her head that snickered about just wanting to be close to him. Come on, is that really such a crime? she asked herself. Any woman who can call herself a woman would want to be close to him. He’s got the sex appeal, no doubt about that. Plus, he’s caring and patient. He’s good with kids, as far as I can tell, and goddammit, who doesn’t love a fixer-upper?

  Normally, she stayed away from fixer-uppers. In her experience, they tended to be more work than they worth. But Pat had everything else going for him in her book. And it wasn’t just the qualities her heart had listed out for her that really appealed to her. The most dangerous attribute he had was one he had little control over; she was falling in love with him. Honest-to-god, heart-pounding, snuggle-on-the-couch, grow-old-together love.

  If she was willing to be perfectly honest with herself—and why the hell not, better late than never—she’d never loved Bryce. She’d never been that attracted. He was her escape from a life that seemed to be heading out of control. Deep down, she’d always wanted the life she’d grown up in. She wanted the boisterous family dinners, sitting down to a raucous game of cards or Trivial Pursuit after desert and finishing up the night gathered around the television to watch re-runs of their favorite BBC comedies. After she’d gotten her degree, she’d taught shop in a small school near Billings and realized that teaching high school wasn’t what she wanted, so she’d decided to pursue her Master’s and see where it led her. Why she’d chosen Seattle—to be closer to her family while she figured out what she wanted to do when she grew up—now seemed irresponsible, because the fast-track life of the city conflicted with everything she was. Her relaxed Montana drawl had vanished, her quiet breakfast of cereal with the latest copy of the Smithsonian had been replaced by a hurried cup of coffee and a piece of toast, and those laughter-filled family evenings had faded into her past. Some nights, she hadn’t come home to her apartment at all, spending them instead in the university’s shop facilities.

  Bryce had come into her life like a parachute, slowing her plunge. He’d worked on her for months. Freaked by what was happening to her, she’d finally agreed to have dinner with him. He’d gotten her to slow down and take a step back. Looking back from her newly discovered vantage, she could see that she’d been in love with the change of pace, not him. And she’d subconsciously been in love with the promise of family life being in a relationship brought. He wasn’t a bad guy, she decided, even considering that he’d intended to rape her that night. Intended, she wondered, or merely threatened? Would he have really done it? If Adam hadn’t intervened, would Bryce have backed off? If she hadn’t screamed, would Bryce have changed his mind and left her alone? Would he still be alive?

  She shuddered. No, don’t go there. You’re past this now. Pat helped you get past this.

  When Bryce died, the stings snapped. Whether or not the back-up chute would open and set her softly on the ground had been a toss up. Now, with Pat’s help, her life was slowing to a comfortable pace and all she had to do now was keep her feet when she landed.

  Aelissm inhaled deeply and her lungs were filled with the beautiful scent of the man in her arms. She let him distract her, silently thanking him for saving her yet again. Then, she prayed sleep would come soon, to take her away from all her thoughts, both the dark wonderings and the flares of desire. Finally, her mind became hazy, leaving only her senses aware.

  The worlds of thought and dreams blurred and Aelissm slipped pleasantly between fantasy and reality, from making love to Pat beneath a smiling moon to finding him tucked snuggly against her. When morning first lightened the star-studded sky, Aelissm briefly woke lucid enough to wonder if she’d slept at all, then drifted off again, comforted by the inability to recall another nearly-sleepless night she’d enjoyed as much or that had felt so perfectly and tantalizingly right.

  The treetops were ablaze with golden sun by the time she woke for the day. She stretched languidly, feeling quite like a lazy cat. Pat showed signs of stirring, so she propped herself up on her elbow, gazed down at him for a moment, then slid out of bed.

  “Morning already?” he asked groggily.

  “Already,” she affirmed. “How are you?”

  “Feeling like a train wreck. But I’ve been a lot worse. I’ll get over it.” He opened those soft hazel eyes and smiled at her. “Thank you.”

  “For dragging you through hell?”

  “You didn’t drag me anywhere I haven’t been before, Aeli. Thank you for… a lot of things. For getting me to talk about it, for being there while I did. For being you.”

  “You’ve been supporting me since you’ve been here,” she said. “The very least I can do in return is the same. Breakfast should be ready in twenty minutes or so.”

  She leaned down and kissed his cheek, then left without another word. The first thing she did after starting a fire in the stove to take the chill out of the cabin was brew coffee. Once that was done, she took out eggs and bread, thinking French toast would be nice. Before long, breakfast was well on it’s way.

  Pat came downstairs, his hunter-green robe only loosely closed and Aelissm poured him a cup of coffee. She added a little cream, just how she knew he liked it, and forcefully refused to let her gaze linger too long on the tempting bare skin peeking from the neck of the robe. She went back to her cooking. He stood there, leaning against the counter, drinking his coffee as if this was an everyday ritual they’d had for years, not weeks.

  “So,” Pat said. “What are we doing today?”

  Aelissm looked up from the stove and took a moment to study him. He looked tired. That soul-deep exhaustion she’d seen in his eyes that first night by the woodstove in her grandparents’ den had returned. Its reappearance made her realize just how relaxed Pat had become these past few weeks and drove home the truth of how much his on-going battle with his memories hurt him. Aelissm couldn’t locate a descriptive harsh enough for Sara. No man deserved to suffer like that, least of all one as sweet and loveable as Pat. It made her furious and right there in her kitchen, brandishing a spatula like a sword, Aeli vowed she would kill or horribly maim that vindictive, destructive whore is she ever dared to bother Pat again.

  “I thought we’d hang out,” she heard herself say. “Take it easy today.”

  Pat took another sip of his coffee and stared out the window. All those jokes about his age she and he tossed back and forth weren’t so funny right now. Pat was only twenty-eight, but at the moment, he looked at least forty. Aelissm’s heart sank as she reached the conclusion that staying with her all night hadn’t helped him at all, no matter what he’d told her. How could she help him if she didn’t know what he needed? She’d thought she knew, but her friendship obviously hadn’t been enough.

  Stop being so selfish, she scolded herself as disappointment seeped into her blood. Aelissm squared her shoulders, defying self-centered emotions. “Think you might be up to riding the trails? I thought we could take the dirt bikes out on some of the old logging roads around here.”

  “Sounds like fun,” he replied dispassionately.

  “Only if you’re up for it,” she repeated a little more firmly.

  “Is that a challenge, Ms. Davis?’

  “It is. So, big boy, are you game or not?”

  Just like that, he was twenty-eight again.

  “You bet your cute ass.”

  Satisfied, Aelissm turned back to their breakfast. She expertly flipped the French toast with one hand and dunked another piece of bread in the egg with the other. As she cooked, she thought
about her parents. Her mother was one of the best cooks she knew, specializing more in the old-fashioned, home-cooked meals than worldly cuisine. Her father had worked in construction most of his life, but he had a talent with crafting that put hers to shame. From them both, she’d received her greatest skills and it pleased her to no end that she’d put it all to good use. She taught in her father’s field and her mother’s culinary talents had made her work in the kitchen of the Bedspread a pleasure instead of a disaster. And, thanks again to the many hours she’d spent closeted in her mother’s kitchen––occasionally joined by June––she was able to make Pat a nice, tasty breakfast.

  “Have I told you yet that you have the most beautiful smile when you’re smug?”

  Pat’s compliment caught her completely by surprise and all her streamlined food preparation came to a sloppy splat on the linoleum. She glared down at the offending piece of would-be French toast.

  “Dammit,” she muttered. With an exasperated sigh, she bent down and picked up the egg-coated bread and tossed it in the little garbage can she’d placed beside the stove. “Don’t even think about laughing, Pat, or the rest of your breakfast will join it.”

  By the look on his face, she could tell he wasn’t fighting to contain a chuckle, but he was watching her with a kind of melancholy amusement. He was teetering on the knife-edge between moving forward and falling back and Aeli fought to find something that would give him a little nudge forward.

  C’mon, Pat, honey. Don’t go back down there. It’s daylight. The sun is up and shining bright. Don’t let the shadows take you.

  She put a hand on her hip and offered him what she hoped was a playfully seductive smile. “So, how was I last night?”

  Pat’s brows knitted together momentarily before he caught on. “Fantastic. I’m not worthy.”

  Not exactly the reaction she’d been hoping for, so she reached a little farther. “I guess we’ll have to work on making you worthy. Next time we sleep together, I expect to be reduced to a puddle of mush, not left lying awake listening to you snore.”