Blue Christmas (5 page)

The older man hesitated, and brushed a weary hand over his eyes. “I’m sorry, Brady, damned sorry. But, man, that order includes you.”

~~~

Tiffany grimaced at her reflection in the full length mirror. Amazing that even when you felt like crap, you could still look good. Must be her genes. The last thing she wanted to do was go to the annual Christmas party, but Col. Marion was adamant. He’d damn well ordered her to make an appearance. He’d said that three days off work was more than enough. He taunted her. Said that, since she insisted her injuries were minor, there was no reason she couldn’t come to work. And he reminded her that the annual Christmas party at the officer’s club was a command performance. The only good thing about it was that in Korea you didn’t have to wear dress blues.

Though she rarely admitted it, Tiffany was a bit of a clothes horse. Even as a little girl, she’d loved to dress up. She was still annoyed that her gorgeous silver dress was ruined. The Korean drycleaners had tskd, and said there was no hope. The blood stains would never come out. Too bad Shin Lee was dead or she’d send him a bill. Maybe she’d send one anyway. He had to have an estate or something…

She twirled in front of the mirror and glanced appreciatively over her shoulder at her curvy bottom. The dress was so tight it all but showed the crack between her butt cheeks and the strapless top was cut dangerously low. She grinned, good thing her boobs were so big or her top might fall down. The dress was white, sprinkled with tiny iridescent beads that sparkled in the light. Matching white satin stiletto slippers and lace topped silk stocking completed her holiday finery. Catching sight of her reflection, Tiffany’s grin widened. White? Sparkles? But, hardly innocent.

She chided herself, why not be a little racy? Most of the officers were married, but that hadn’t stopped them from hitting on her. She’d brushed them all aside, never considering interfering in their marriages. But from the hate-filled glances the angry Army wives spewed on her, you’d think that she took a different one of their husbands every day of the week. Tucking a glitter covered white orchid in the fiery mass of curls piled on top of her head, she tugged a few wispy curls around her face. Pulling her white fur evening wrap around her shoulders, she gave her reflection a saucy wave and headed into the night.

As she got closer to the base, she could no longer avoid the memories swirling in her brain. She’d fastidiously avoided thinking about Brady—at least as much as she could. She’d turned off her phone, unwilling to acknowledge the countless calls Brady had made. At least in the first two days. Then the calls stopped abruptly. Certain that he’d left for anther mission, she turned her phone on. The silence that greeted her confirmed that she’d been successful. She’d driven him out of her life.

Tiffany knew she was being unkind. Thoughtless. Rude. He was a friend, after all, and he
had
saved her life. The least she could have done was thank him. But she’d decided to write him a note, and have Marty get it to him. It was better this way. There was no future with him—that was certain. Why torment either one of them?

But in unguarded moments she remembered the way he’d held her with his eyes. How he gave her courage. How he wouldn’t let her look away. His fierce gaze told her he wouldn’t let anyone hurt her. That somehow, together, they would survive the night. And they did. She couldn’t have made it without him. Her injury was little more than a scratch and given the new Dermabond, what the doctor laughingly called medical superglue, she didn’t even need stitches. She sighed. Too bad the hurt in her heart wouldn’t heal that easily.

As she drove through the snowy streets, the city seemed quieter somehow. Softer, prettier. She realized with a start that it was Christmas Eve, and most of the shops and stores must have closed early. Pulling into the driveway leading to the Officer’s Club, she hopped out and handed the valet her keys.

He grinned at her, his eyes widening in appreciation. He hesitated for a moment then blushed. “I… I… hope you aren’t offended Ma’am, but… you look like an angel. A Christmas angel whose hair is on fire.” He blushed to the roots of his closely cropped hair. “I… I mean, you’re not on fire but…” His voice trailed off to a helpless groan.

Tiffany laughed and reached up and gave him a quick peck on the cheek.

Glancing at his name badge, she said, “Thank you, Private Mason. I am anything but an angel. But thank you for saying so.” Hardly believing the words came out of her mouth, she added, “Merry Christmas.”

Inside, the hat check woman took her wrap—and oohed and ahhed over it.

“Is this real fur?” she asked, her eyes wide with wonder.

Tiffany smiled. “Yes, it is. I have a very politically incorrect father and he always gives me outrageous gifts like this.” She added with a smile, “But I love it.”

The pleasant exchanges, first with the valet and then the hat check clerk, buoyed her spirits. Maybe this evening wouldn’t be horrible. She admitted, even for her, spending Christmas Eve in her cold, lonely apartment didn’t make sense.

Entering the ballroom, she was greeted by a chorus of happy voices, many of them calling out her name. Soon she was surrounded by members of her team and others, all welcoming her. One after another, people she barely knew came over to congratulate her and to say how wonderful she looked. Even the pointed stares at her risqué dress from the dumpy brigade—as she’d named the spiteful wives who occupied a corner at every event—didn’t bother her. She shrugged and reminded herself that if she looked like they did, she’d be mad too.

The room was festive, and after sipping on a glass of holiday punch she began to relax. She smiled to herself, knowing she really had it bad when even the music didn’t bother her.

And then she saw Brady.

He was standing across the room in the midst of a group of men and women all seemingly eager to get his attention. He turned and met her eyes. A storm of sensation flooded her. She gasped for air but her lungs were too tight to catch the breath. A wave of dizziness made her legs shake and she grasped the edge of the table for support. Her heart was pounding so hard she was sure the people around her could hear it.

He was gorgeous. Towering over the next tallest man, he looked like a Viking warrior. Tall, strong and muscular. Brady was wearing a formal dress suit, but rather than a tie or bowtie like the other men, his white silk shirt was open at the neck. His hair was tied back with a leather cord, a rakish counterpoint to his dark golden brown beard shadow. His jacket and trousers, cut in the latest GQ style, strained against his muscular shoulders and thighs.

Tiffany forced herself to meet his gaze. A slight smile tugged at the corner of his mouth but his eyes were dark, a stormy green sea. He was like a panther. Lean, sleek, predatory. She struggled to suck in another breath.

He raised his glass to her in an ironic salute, then turned back to answer General Thornton’s question.

Tiffany glanced at the exit wondering if she could make it to the door without falling. She reminded herself, she’d walked in—surely she could walk out. Preparing to flee, she was stopped by the tinkling of a spoon rapping against a glass, the universal call to order.

Colonel Marion stood at the front of the room and Tiffany’s heart sank, realizing that he was about to speak and that there was no way she could leave now.

After welcoming everyone, Colonel Marion introduced the General, his wife, and other dignitaries. After the usual clapping and humorous introductions and good will amplified by the presence of punch and eggnog, the Colonel’s expression grew serious.

“We have a special reason to celebrate this Christmas. One of our teams just participated in an unusually dangerous operation. To my joy and relief they all survived the mission. To my even greater joy, they took down a vicious international criminal who had the power to do more evil in the world than any of us can conceive.”

Tiffany listened to Colonel Marion describe the mission as much as he could, given the high level of secrecy it entailed. A feeling of dread crept up her spine when she heard the Colonel begin to name the members of the team. Her fear eased somewhat when she thought he was simply going to list their names. But after he’d introduced the members of the backup squad, he stopped, allowing for a round of applause.

Tiffany thought she might faint when her worst fear came true.

Colonel Marion looked around the room and met her gaze. He smiled at her.

“I’m pleased to introduce two people who deserve much more recognition that we can give them tonight—although appropriate medals are on the way. In truth these two people are heroes and deserve the thanks of the people of the United States. It is my honor to have commanded a team that was led by Captain Tiffany Anderson and Colonel Brady Schaefer.”

Tiffany didn’t know how she made it across the room without falling but she did and from the way her face ached, she must be smiling. When she reached the Colonel’s side, he turned to the audience and said, “Ladies and Gentlemen, may I introduce our very own hero, a woman who makes me proud to be a soldier, Captain Tiffany Anderson.”

As the audience erupted in a rousing burst of applause with catcalls and hoorahs mixed in, Tiffany fought back tears and reached up and kissed Col. Marion, and said simply, “Thank you.”

After the applause died down, Col. Marion introduced Brady. Describing him as a true American hero, he listed a string of accomplishments—ending with his sadness that they had not been able to keep a soldier of Brady’s distinction in the active military.

Brady stepped forward.

“Colonel Marion is gracious indeed. I was quaking in my boots wondering if he was going to mention the times he had to spring me and my partner from certain time in the brig for, shall we say, ‘exceeding’ orders.”

Following the roar of appreciative laughter at this and other hilarious self-deprecating stories, Brady tuned serious.

“But, folks, I would be remiss if I didn’t acknowledge the bravest and most accomplished woman I know, Captain Tiffany Anderson. It was a privilege to work with her again. We were teammates three years ago and Tiffany did then what she does in every mission she works. She exceeded all expectations, putting herself in horrific danger. And she helped us take down an evil man and shatter a human trafficking ring, saving the lives of countless young women. The United States Army should be very proud. To say that Tiffany a superstar is an understatement. It doesn’t do her justice. No, a better description is to call her a supernova. As all of you astronomy buffs know, unlike a mere superstar, a supernova outshines an entire galaxy.”

Brady reached out and took her hand, forcing her to look up at him.

He added quietly, “It’s a privilege to work with you, Tiffany. I’m honored to have been on your team.”

Knowing that she would burst into tears at any minute, Tiffany was relieved when Brady turned to the audience with a grin. “And I might add that she has the hottest ass in the entire United States Army!”

The crowd came apart.

Chapter 7

As men and women crowded around the two of them, offering congratulations and thanking them for what they had done, Brady kept a firm grip on her arm. Initially she’d tried to pull away, but he merely notched her closer. After several minutes, as she answered questions and tried to make conversation, she found herself moving closer to him, wanting the comfort of his strong body next to hers.

After what seemed like hours, but was minutes at the most, the band moved into a lilting medley of Christmas songs.

Brady leaned down and said in a low voice, “Shall we?”

She started to refuse, but he tugged on her arm and led her out to the dance floor. Sweeping her into his arms, he murmured, “Hey, it’s not Elvis…”

As he pulled her closer to him, she melted into him. She gasped as a rush of sensation flooded over her. Frightened by the fiery flames of heat racing through her, she tried to pull away but he just tightened his hold on her.

`His voice was low, husky. “Uh uh, darlin’, you aren’t going anywhere but here in my arms. And, yeah, honey, I feel it too.”

Breathing in his unique smell, a combination of expensive cologne and strong man, she was shocked at the quaking sensations streaking through her core. She buried her head against him, clinging to him to keep from falling. Her legs were shaking. He was so big, so strong, even with her five inch high heels he towered over her. If anything her shoes put her at greater disadvantage, brought her hips up close to his groin. With a low growl he pressed his body against hers grinding his prominent arousal into the heat between her legs. Stunned at the hunger searing her, a needy whimper escaped her lips.

Oh God, she should push him away, run, anything… But she didn’t want to. God no. Her legs wouldn’t stop shaking and she realized with a shudder that she was wet.

Brady leaned down and bit lightly on the sensitive place below her ear. She couldn’t hold back a soft cry. He dragged his beard shadow across her tender skin and growled softly, “You smell so fucking good, Tiffany. Fresh, spicy… and sexy. Yeah, honey, so goddamned sexy. I need you, baby.”

Clinging to him, helpless to stop trembling, she realized that the song had come to an end and he was still holding her in his arms.

She whimpered, “Brady, help me.”

He held her close and murmured, “It’s okay, darlin’. I’ve got you. Oh yeah, baby, I’ve got you now.”

Seeing that the people close by were staring at them, he put his arm around her shoulders and began to ease her away from the dance floor. Tiffany’s face was burning hot. She could only imagine what she looked like. But she didn’t know if she could walk without stumbling if she let go of his arm. At that moment a deep voice caught their attention. Swallowing hard, Tiffany turned to see General Thornton coming toward them.

The General frowned slightly as he approached.

“Uh, excuse me. I didn’t mean to interrupt. I wanted to personally thank you both for a job well done. And by the way, Colonel, that was an excellent speech.”