Jingle Spells (18 page)

The sound that ripped from her throat was part ecstasy and part torture. They fit together perfectly, just as she'd remembered.

It was overwhelming—more than she'd expected. Her chest tightened even as her body began to completely unravel. Both of them were too close to the edge to be gentle or deliberate. Instead, they came together in a flashing pump of hips, the glorious friction of bodies and brutal slice of long-denied passion finally finding a delicious outlet.

Her throat constricted just as her body spasmed. The dark spiral of release tried to suck her into oblivion, but she wasn't ready to let it have her. She waited for him, holding out so that she could feel the swell and pulse of his release deep inside her. And when she had it, she finally gave in. Wave after wave of pleasure washed over her. It was too much. It wasn't enough.

Dash sank down beside her, their arms and legs tangled in a knot she didn't have the energy yet to unravel.

Noelle lay there—the cold press of metal at her back and the heat of him draped over her like the warmest blanket on the harshest winter night. Her chest heaved, and every cell in her body seemed to quiver, energized and newly alive.

She didn't realize she was crying until Dash lifted himself onto an elbow. The smile of satisfaction that stretched his face faded.

Swiping a thumb across her cheek, he said, “Hey, hey. What's this?” and held up a single glistening tear.

Chapter 4

D
ash hated to see her cry.

Hated to be the reason for Noelle's tears.

And he'd been responsible for quite a few of them in their relationship.

Gathering her in his arms, he rolled around until his back was against the table and Elle was pressed tight to his chest.

She tried to bury her face in his shoulder, but he wasn't having any of that. Part of the reason they'd crashed and burned was because they hadn't taken the time to communicate. He wasn't making that mistake again.

Because now that she was back in his arms, he wasn't sure he could let her go. It had nearly crushed him the first time.

Tipping her chin up, he forced her to look at him.

“What's wrong?” he asked, trying to make the words as gentle as possible.

“Nothing.”

Her tears might have stopped, but he could still see the tracks where they'd been. Swiping his thumb through the ghost of them, his mouth tightened. “That isn't nothing, Elle. Talk to me. What did I do?”

Her gloriously blue eyes went wide with surprise. “Nothing, Dash. You didn't do anything. Well, at least nothing wrong. It's just been...a long time since I've felt that...connected to another person.” She pulled against his hold, trying to duck and cover her face. “I was a little overwhelmed.”

The tight ache centered in his chest began to ease.

“That was pretty intense.”

She laughed, the sound of it rolling across him. Her body relaxed, going pliant. Folding her arms across his chest, she cradled her chin on her hands and looked at him through the cover of her lashes.

“It was always intense. You and I. The bedroom was never our problem.”

A low chuckle curled up from his belly. “No. Definitely not. Maybe I should have handcuffed you to the bed. Kept you there, naked and waiting for me.”

She frowned, but he still saw the brief flash of interest before she extinguished it.

“Oh, absolutely. Because forcing me to do what you wanted would have solved all our issues. Why
not
handcuff me to the bed? You wanted me to give up all my dreams for yours anyway.”

“What?” he asked, his voice incredulous. “I never asked you to give up your dreams, Noelle.”

“Please. You wanted me to be the perfect Winter wife. Bake cookies, serve cocoa, never complain and wait patiently for you to decide to come home.”

His fingers tightened around the curve of her hip. She winced, telling him he was holding on too tight, but he couldn't make his hands uncurl.

“What do you mean wait for me to come home? You make it sound like I was screwing around on you.”

How could she possibly think that? Hell, even at twenty he'd barely had the energy to keep up with her. Not when he was struggling to handle the responsibilities and pressures of his new position with the clan as well as a new wife.

“No. I actually think I would have preferred it if you were. Do you know how much it hurt to wake up alone in an empty bed and know you'd rather be here instead of with me?”

He'd had no idea. Stunned, his mouth opened and closed without anything coming out.

“You shut me out, Dash.”

The shock was quickly devoured by long-repressed outrage. “And your solution was to leave? I was working all the time, Elle, trying not to drown beneath my stressful and exhausting job. My wife, a woman I loved desperately, seemed more and more unhappy the longer we were together. I couldn't figure out how it had all gone to shit so quickly. Or how to fix it.”

His jaw flexed. He could feel the tension whipping through every muscle in his body but couldn't force himself to relax. The tears were back in her eyes, glistening across the bright blue surface. He should let it go, but he couldn't make himself shut up.

“You didn't even say goodbye. I came back to the lodge and you were just...gone. Not even a note, just an empty closet and a missing suitcase. It was weeks before I realized you weren't taking a break. You were never coming back.”

Unable to stay this close to her while the memory of that pain ripped through him all over again, he wrapped his hands around her hips and lifted her off.

Grabbing his jeans, he slipped the worn denim over his hips. Turning to search for his shirt, he was in the middle of buttoning the fly when he caught a glimpse of her from the corner of his eye.

His hands stilled. She stood there, completely naked and utterly vulnerable. A contradictory mixture of the girl he'd fallen in love with and the woman she'd become. She might not have on the suits she liked to use as armor, but her body was still perfectly straight. Her shoulders were tight and her chin was tipped upward in a challenging show of confidence. But deep inside her eyes he could see the shadow of her insecurity and doubt. And something else—the slice of pain that he recognized because he wore the same damn scar.

“I heard you,” she whispered, so low he almost didn't pick up the words.

Taking a single step closer, he said, “What?”

“I heard you. That night. Talking with Cole about our handfasting.
You
were the one to insist on the ancient practice, wanting to honor the custom of our ancestors. But the year and a day was coming up, and you weren't talking about making the union permanent. You were going to leave me.”

“What?” he asked again, his heart suddenly lurching painfully inside his chest. A scathing protest was hot on his lips, but the words died before he could speak them. The look of utter devastation crumpling her face was difficult to argue with.

She truly believed what she was saying.

“I barely saw you. When you weren't working you were here.” She flung her hands around his workroom. The bitterness in her voice cut straight through him.

He wanted to protest that he hadn't been hiding away inside his shop, but he knew the words would be lies. He had come here to avoid the fact that his marriage was crumbling and he had had no clue how to stop it. At the time he'd convinced himself he was giving her space.

But the reality was he'd had no idea how to handle what was going on between them, and he'd used the hot shop to pretend everything was okay when it clearly wasn't.

“When you did actually come home we inevitably ended up fighting.”

Or channeling that pent-up frustration and passion into ripping each other's clothes off, but he didn't mention that. He didn't think that reminder would be helpful just now.

“I was so afraid I was losing you. I couldn't be what you wanted. I didn't fit in with the other women. I burned every batch of cookies I tried. I even managed to screw up cocoa.” She threw her hands up into the air, letting them fall back around her in frustration. “It takes a whole lot of talent to screw up hot cocoa, Dash. It's milk, chocolate and a tiny bit of power. But I couldn't even manage that.

“You didn't want to spend time with me, and frankly, I didn't blame you. I hated myself. The harder I tried, the more I just managed to screw up and push you away.

“When I heard you talking with Cole about what your options were at the end of the year and a day, I knew you were planning on leaving. Hell, I would have left me, too. Rather than put us both through that humiliating ordeal,
I
left. It was easier that way.”

Dash let his eyes slide closed. He breathed in through his nose and out through his mouth, using the warm weight of it to ground him. It was either that or give in to the pounding need to scream at the universe.

When he thought his emotions were back under control, Dash opened his eyes and stared straight into Elle's churning gaze. “I had no intention of ending our marriage, sweetheart. But I thought you might. Especially after you screamed that our handfasting was a mistake.”

He tried to keep the ache of her words from his voice, but didn't quite succeed.

She gasped. “I didn't...” Her words trailed to nothing. He could see the memories as they flashed back across her mind. The moment she remembered saying the words to him in a blinding fit of angry tears.

“I didn't—” she tried again, but the statement didn't come out any clearer the second time around.

Her throat worked hard as she tried to swallow. Soft hair whipped around her face as her head jerked back and forth in denial.

The third time went better. “I didn't mean it.”

With a sad smile tugging at his lips, Dash closed the space between them. She stared up at him, her eyes filled with a jumble of emotions so tangled up together he couldn't pull one from another. He knew exactly how that felt, to be so tied up in knots that you didn't know what the hell you felt.

Running the pad of his finger down her cheek, he whispered, “Apparently you did.”

* * *

Noelle stared at the computer screen on her desk. There were words and numbers. Information she was supposed to be absorbing and managing. She didn't see any of it.

The only thing she could see was the expression on Dash's face right before he'd walked away from her last night. As if she'd ripped out his heart and fed it to a reindeer.

Her own chest still ached with the realization that she'd hurt him.

And right now, she had no idea what to do with that knowledge. What did it mean? What did last night mean?

Could they go back and start again? Was that even a possibility? Would he forgive her for leaving, and could they work out the issues that had driven a wedge between them in the first place?

What about the life she had back in D.C.? And while everyone else seemed to accept her presence here, there was still a part of her that didn't feel like she belonged. Not when she was struggling with the simplest requirements of her job.

She could direct her personnel, devise security protocol and implement diversionary tactics with no problem. But that wasn't all the Winter clan needed from their head of security.

Eventually they were going to figure out she wasn't qualified for the job.

And then what?

“Baby girl.” A loud booming voice echoed outside her office door. Well, actually, it was his office door.

“Daddy,” she said, a smile lighting her up inside. The sight of him always made her happy. Especially after the scare of almost losing him.

He was the only parent she had left. The only family, really, since she wasn't close with any of her Summer relatives.

Pushing up from her desk, Noelle allowed herself to be wrapped inside the warmth of a crushing hug. Her father was tall and broad-shouldered. Silver was finally starting to thread the dark, burnt-toast-brown of his hair.

He was her rock and always had been. Bigger than life and indestructible. Getting the phone call that he'd collapsed had nearly sent her to her knees.

Although he was definitely looking better these days.

She almost offered him the chair she'd been sitting in, but before she could he dropped onto the hard chair across from her. He settled back, the plastic creaking ominously beneath the bulk of his body.

“How's my gorgeous girl today?” he asked.

“Good. Fine. How are you?” she asked, trying not to put unnecessary emphasis on the words but failing miserably.

The doctors kept telling her that he was going to make a full recovery. Sure, he'd have to make some lifestyle adjustments, but that was typical after suffering a massive heart attack that required emergency open-heart surgery. At least his skin no longer had a sallow look.

He gave her a weak smile. “Good. Just came back from physical therapy in the village. Those are some sadistic bastards. I thought I was going to puke right there on that damn treadmill.”

Shaking her head, Noelle said, “They're trying to make your heart stronger, Daddy. Do what they say.”

Frowning, he grumbled something beneath his breath, but she couldn't hear it. Maybe it was better that way.

Pushing up from the chair, he leaned across her desk and touched his warm lips to her forehead. “Just wanted to check on my girl since I was walking through. I'm going back to the lodge to take a nap.”

Flipping her hand in goodbye, Noelle watched her father disappear back out the door.

She wasn't happy. Not once did he ask her about work. And he hadn't since the day she'd agreed to take over for him. At first she'd thought it was simply because he didn't have the strength to think about it. Now she wasn't so sure.

Growing up, work had been his life. It bothered her that he didn't seem to care about it at all anymore.

But she wasn't quite ready to push him on the issue.

Shaking her head, she turned back to the spreadsheet open on her screen. At least his visit had accomplished one thing—she'd stopped thinking about Dash and last night.

Although the reprieve was short-lived. A couple hours after her father's visit, the walking distraction himself breezed into her office.

Noelle looked up, startled. She'd been back for months, and Dash hadn't come into her office in all that time.

She wanted to berate him for interrupting her concentration, but the words died in her suddenly dry throat. Gone were the work clothes he'd had on yesterday, replaced by the kind of brilliantly tailored clothes the citizens of Gingerbread expected from the VP of Evergreen Enterprises.

The man could fill out a suit. Maybe it was knowing just how hot and sweaty he could get beneath the veneer of civility the expensive material provided, but Noelle felt like she was about to start drooling.

It didn't help when he reached behind him and closed her door. He leaned heavily against the wood, his intense gaze running across her from tip to toe. Her body responded, going all liquid and needy.

After he'd walked away from her last night, she'd expected him to go back to pretending she didn't exist. Apparently, that wasn't the plan anymore.

“What are you doing?” she asked, her voice much more breathy than she'd meant it to be.

“Look, we could throw accusations at each other all day. The reality is there's plenty of blame to spread between both of us. We were young. We made mistakes. But last night proved there's still something there.”