Halos (21 page)
T
HOUGH SHE DIDN’T ANSWER, HE FELT her pulse under his fingers. She was flesh and blood, but there was something unworldly about her. She made him see things, think things, know things he hadn’t before. She awakened his soul, and he hadn’t known it was sleeping. She convicted and entranced. Last night had left him aching to know her.
He leaned in and kissed her mouth, wanting but restraining. He didn’t want to scare her, and again he sensed her innocence. Her hands were between them, flat to his chest, not fending him off, but protective, careful. He kissed her again, deeper. What was he doing? He didn’t know and didn’t care.
Her eyes had closed, and he tasted her lips, feeling a need he’d denounced after Barb deserted him. He could not be in love. It wasn’t possible after only two weeks. And he’d sworn off it anyway. What, then? It was not the animal attraction he had for Amanda. He did want to hold Alessi, touch her. But … it was her he craved.
He closed her into his arms and kissed her neck. She sucked a sharp breath, but he didn’t stop. He didn’t want to. He found her mouth and claimed it harder than before. He wanted to kiss her until neither one of them could breathe. He loved her. No. But he did. What he’d felt for Amanda was carnal; what he’d felt for Barb, a wish for something more.
This was real. He clutched her between the shoulders and let his mouth show what he couldn’t say as well. He wanted every day with her. She changed people … if they were willing to change. Stacie had practically given her that soft sweater he hugged now, and Stacie never discounted. Ben said Mary was a new woman after sledding with Alessi, and those timid little girls had taken to her like a sister. Debbie had seen it; so had Ben and Dave.
He kissed the space between her eyebrows, clutching that wild, wonderful hair, then looked into her face. Not terrified exactly, but close. He forced himself to back off. “Treacherous ogre?”
She shook her head and her throat worked. “I just don’t do that.”
His heart rushed. “Ever?”
“Well, I hadn’t.”
That thought almost set him off again. She was so pure, so … “I find that very hard to believe.”
She looked away.
He’d hurt her. “What did I say?”
“Nothing.”
He caught her shoulders. “What did I say, Alessi?”
“Aunt Carrie called my mother a slut. She said I was the same.”
He was suddenly keenly aware of her youth. He was less experienced than he might have been at his age, because his nature was to find the one woman he could love, not play the field, not play around. His father had taught him how critical that choice was, and he didn’t want to blow it. But he felt miles ahead of Alessi right now.
“You proved her wrong.” There wasn’t a vampish cell in her body. “And I didn’t mean I thought you were experienced. I just can’t believe others haven’t felt what I feel.” What was he doing?
“What you feel?” She looked more insecure than ever.
“I don’t explain it well.”
“It’s probably grief. Your first Christmas without your dad or your lover.”
“She wasn’t my lover.” Her assumption was understandable after his behavior moments ago. “Our engagement was commitment enough for Barb, but I needed the covenant first.” He cringed inside. Alessi didn’t need to read his mind; he just blurted everything out. “Guess who proved right on that one?”
Alessi’s eyes held him bound. He was under control now but surprisingly not chagrined that he’d kissed her. Whatever was going on was beyond him. He wouldn’t fight it. He ran a hand through his hair. “We should heat some dishwater.”
She nodded, relaxing at last, unaware that at any moment he might give in and kiss her again. Her height was a wonderful fit with his, her skin soft yet not overly moisturized. Barb’s had been almost spongy. He emptied the coffeepot and filled it with clean water, then set it over the fire and tucked a fresh log underneath.
The house was still cold, but in front of the fire it was hot. That could account for the heat inside him, but he knew better. Alessi wandered over from the kitchen. She stopped at the tree and fingered one of Dave’s fishing flies. Steve left the water to heat and went into his room. He snatched his camera and went back.
She didn’t see him at first, and he snapped one shot of her looking up into the branches, toying with the feathers of a blue fly. It wouldn’t show blue because it was black-and-white film in the camera. She turned. “Don’t start that again.”
But he snapped off three more shots in succession. Let her complain. He wanted to see if she came out on film. If she were some phantom or angel, he’d prove it in black-and-white.
She jammed her fingers into her hair. “I really don’t like it.”
He snapped.
She put her hands to her hips. Great angles on her elbows. Her arms were almost as long as his. He snapped again. She put her hands over her face and he even snapped that.
She took them away. “Let me take you.” She reached for the camera.
He lowered it, trying to remember if Barb had ever asked to take his picture. They’d asked people to take them together, but she’d loved her end better, posing and preening for the lens. He handed Alessi the camera. “Here’s the focus. Touch here to snap the picture.”
She held it up to her eye. “Go over by the fire.”
He walked over and crouched, tested the side of the waterpot while he was there. Hardly warm. He heard the shutter click and turned. She snapped another. He smiled, and she took that too. He stood. “Come here.” He sat her on the hearth by the fire, took the camera and set its timer. He left the camera on the table and sat beside her on the hearth, encircling her in his arm. “Now who’s the one with the pole in the back?”
She turned to him and the camera clicked the picture.
He looked into her face—hazel eyes, long freckled nose, broad generous lips. “Can I kiss you?”
“You did.”
“May I?”
Her heart hammered. “I’m not sure.”
He pressed his palm to her cheek. “Still think I’m the big jerk?”
She shook her head.
“Heathcliff?”
She shook it again.
“Do you play chess?”
Her eyebrows raised.
“Chess. King, queen, bishops, knights.”
“No.”
“Want to learn?” He removed his hand.
“Well, I …”
He stood up and took the chessboard and pieces from the shelf beside the fireplace. “If I win—I claim a kiss. You win—you name the penalty.”
“I think you’ll have an advantage.”
He sat down on the rug in front of the fire and laid out the board. “But you can name any prize you like. I’ve already told you mine.”
She sank to the rug across from him, watching as he set up the pieces.
“Now, this is the king. He’s the most important. But this is the queen. She’s the most powerful.” He showed her each piece and described how they moved. By the few questions she asked he guessed her a fair strategist. Of course, chess was a game it took years to master.
She put her hands on her hips when he mated her king in only five moves. “You didn’t tell me everything.”
“You think I cheated?”
“How can you get my king already?” She frowned at the board.
“He’s boxed in. The only move he has is into check again.”
She stared hard as though that would change things. “But I’ve hardly moved anything.”
Steve spread his hands. “Sounds like sour grapes to me. But in the spirit of Christmas, I’ll give you another chance.”
“What’s the catch?” She looked into his face.
“No catch. Same terms.” He smiled. He really was enjoying this.
As an answer she reset her pieces. He did the same. This time, it took eleven moves to put her king into check and thirteen for mate. She cocked her head at the board. “Best of five.”
He pulled a sideways smile. “Okay.” Barb had sniffed at his attempts to teach her the game. She thought chess was for old men and geeks. Was there anything they’d agreed on? There must have been some basis for their relationship. “Would you like to go first again?”
“No. You go first.”
He moved a pawn. She moved a pawn. He moved a knight; she moved a knight. Instead of following a strategy, he simply moved pieces, amused when she did the same. Once, he opened up his queen dangerously, but she didn’t see it, and when she copied him, he swooped in and took her queen instead.
“Oh! That was so mean!”
He laughed. “Sorry.”
“I know all about that sort of sorry.” She spoke without taking her eyes from the board. With her bishop she captured his knight. “Not a fair exchange, but I’ll settle for it.”
He positioned his queen. “Check.”
With her eyes, she followed the threat to her king, moved him to the side.
“You should castle him.” He pointed to her rook.
She looked up. “Maybe I should, but I didn’t.”
“You can take it back.”
She shook her head. “I’ll beat you fairly.”
“You won’t beat me at all.”
She tucked her knees to the side under her. “I’m doing better every time.”
“But this is your last chance.”
“Only if you win.” The freckles across her nose gave her a sassy look.
Sighing, he positioned his knight. “Check.”
She scowled at the knight. “He’s no gentleman at all.”
“He’s following his queen’s orders.”
She moved her king one square forward. He positioned a pawn. “Checkmate.”
With her mouth forming a determined line, she made an even row of pawns, reset her back row and looked up. “Best of seven.”
“I’d only have to win one more.”
She folded her hands on her knee. “I have it figured out now.”
“Do you?” The thought intrigued him. “Double or nothing.”
She tipped her head confidently. “I better start thinking of what I want.”
His mouth twitched. “Pride goes before a fall. Or do you mean to keep increasing ratios until you win?”
“Best of seven, double or nothing.” She moved her center pawn two squares forward.
Out of curiosity he let her control the match, playing defensively without pursuing the kill. A few times he did take a piece, when he had to, and once when she was too satisfied with herself. She scowled. “You did that on purpose.”
“That’s the point of the game.”
She pushed back her hair. “You’re toying with me.”
He crossed his legs and rested his forearms. “Why would you think that?”
“It’s obvious. You’ve had no sneak attacks, no attacks at all, actually.”
He reached over and placed a fresh log into the fire. “I think it’s your move.”
“You won’t admit it?” She moved her bishop to the edge, pinned her fingertip to his head, and scoured the board around him, then lifted her finger.
He studied the board. “You have my king in check.”
She furrowed her brow. “How?”
“Your bishop.”
“Ha.” She clasped her hands. “Check.”
He castled his king and winked at her. She swooped in with her bishop and took his rook, as he’d known she would. He answered by capturing her bishop with his knight.
She frowned. “Now you’ve taken them both.”
He spread his hands. “Your turn.”
She brought her queen into position. “Check.”
“Are you sure you want to do that?”
Again her brow furrowed. “I’ve done it now. Why shouldn’t I have?”
He captured her queen with a pawn.
“But they go forward.”
“They move forward, capture diagonally.” He glanced up. “We can reset that if you didn’t remember.”
She huffed. “I should have.”
Steve cradled the queen in his palm. “Put her back?”
She looked like a child desiring a treat but said, “No. I’ve lost her.”
“If you get a pawn all the way across, you can have her back.”
She looked up. “You didn’t tell me that.”
He shrugged. “I didn’t want to overwhelm you with too much information at once.”
“So you have been holding back.”
“If it had mattered, I would have told you before.”
She leaned back and rested on her palms, another great picture pose. “Why didn’t it matter?”
“Because the matches were over before it became an issue.” He framed her in his mind. She was no great beauty, but there was something irresistibly photogenic about her.
“I might have done things differently.” Her hair dropped off her shoulder with a soft springy bounce.
He wanted to clutch it in his hand. “All right, then we’ll wipe the slate clean. Whoever wins this match takes it all.” And he would make those kisses count.
She returned her attention to the chessboard. She was competitive, no doubt about that. It surprised him in a way. She was so nonconfrontational in her other interaction. Had she trained herself to back off because of her circumstances?
He waited for her to move. With neither bishop and no queen, her options were limited. She moved a pawn forward, and his mouth quirked. So her peons were on a mission. He positioned his knight. She moved the pawn again. He moved his knight. Once more the pawn advanced.
He put his knight where he wanted it. “Check.”
She looked startled. She’d been so focused on getting her pawn across she’d forgotten her king. “Should I castle him?”