Kiss of Ice (St. James Family) (13 page)

Christophe realized Annie was staring back at him and he dropped his eyes. He thought about what she said at the Christmas party. He knew she wouldn't have said it unless she believed it. A pang shot through him. He realized it hurt. It hurt that Annie didn't believe in him. He watched Annie and his father talking shop across the table as if he and Miranda weren't even there. Christophe suddenly itched to get up out of his seat and head for the door. Head for the nearest bar and have a good time. But there was a problem. The only person he wanted to have a good time with was Annie, and she wasn't going anywhere.

“
So. Julie Bissett,” Miranda said, and it took him a minute to realize she was talking to him.

“
What about her?” he asked, frustration threatening to boil over into his voice.

“
You went out with her in Paris.” Miranda was on the edge of drunk, he realized. She wouldn't give up on this topic until he had satisfied her curiosity. “A little birdie told me.”

“
We had a friendly dinner.” He leaned over to Annie. “Annata was there, it wasn't just the two of us.” Annie turned her head, her attention drawn away from William.

“
Since when did you ever need a chaperone?” Miranda asked.

“
Excuse me, what?” Annie said, her brow furrowed.

“
Julie Bissett. Tell me, is she still in love with our Christy?” Miranda gushed to Annie.

“
Absolutely,” Annie said. “But he was very rude to her, and she left dinner early.”

“
I simply wanted to let Julie know I was not interested.”

“
And why the hell not?” The Old Man asked, his interest apparently piqued. 

“
Because she's a passive-aggressive, anorexic drug addict, if you must know.” Christophe answered, matter-of-factly. Miranda tsked.

“
You're one to talk.” Miranda drained her glass. “It's not like you've got angels coming out of your...rear end.” Annie laughed into her glass. “Besides, she's so beautiful.”

“
She'll find some other asshole to marry her then,” Christophe scoffed, eyeing the door. His father laughed.

“
My poor friend, Jean Pierre.” He shook his head. “My daughter may be a lesbian, but at least she's not crazy.” Miranda shook her head profusely.

“
Katherine is not a lesbian. She's confused.” Miranda held up the empty bottle, alerting the waiter that they needed another. “Can we please change the subject?”

“
Certainly,” The Old Man said, cutting into his steak. “Jean Pierre is retiring.”

Annie looked up from her meal, shocked.

“He gave me no indication several days ago when we spoke on the phone,” she said.

“
He called this morning.” His father took a sip of his scotch. “I can't say I didn't see it coming. We old men may still feel like we have the world ahead of us, but the reality is very much different.”

“
The company can run in his absence,” Annie said, taking out her phone and beginning to type. “I'll start putting the feelers out for candidates.”

“
Good, good.” The Old Man nodded. “You'll have to go back, Annie, before it's all said and done, I'm sure.”

“
Absolutely, William,” she said, still taking notes on her phone. Christophe watched her, wondering what The Old Man was thinking. Did he want someone French at the helm of Paris branch? He wondered how this new development would play out. He was sure Annie was just as curious.

“
Just a reminder, I'm leaving in a day for the holidays, but I'll be back on the 31
st
,” she said, not looking up from her phone.

“
If you insist,” his father said, making a note on his own phone.

“
I do,” she said with a smile. Christophe squirmed in his seat and checked his watch. He was ready for this dinner to be over. Besides, if Annie was leaving in a day, he wanted to spend as much time with her as possible. Alone.

***

Annata stepped through the door held open by Christophe and out into the cold night air. She pulled her coat around her and tied the sash. The Van der Kinds followed, Miranda bundled up in her calf-length chinchilla coat. Christoph glided past her to the street and held up his hand, hailing a cab.

“
When will we be seeing you again?” Miranda asked Christophe, her voice slurred.

“
Christmas.” Christophe dropped his hand as a cab pulled over.

“
Wonderful, my boy,” William said. Then he turned to Annata. “If I don't see you before you go, my dear, have a Merry Christmas.”

“
You, too, William,” Annata said, giving him a quick hug goodbye. Then Miranda offered up one cheek after the other for Annata to kiss. “Merry Christmas.”

Christophe opened the car door for his parents and they climbed in. As he was about to close the door, Miranda leaned out.

“Don't forget the New Years Party! Annata, you received your invitation?”

“
Yes, I did.” Annata nodded, standing as far away from Christophe as she could. She felt like she had a scarlet letter on her coat. Miranda's hawk eyes very rarely missed a thing.

“
You haven't RSVP'd.” Miranda wagged her perfectly manicured finger.

“
I will.”

“
Well I'm not coming, you can forget about it.” Christophe said to Miranda.

“
Christy, you're terrible—!” Miranda was cut off as Christophe shut the door, none too forcefully. The cab peeled away, and Annata watched the taillights fade into the night. Annata was suddenly very aware that she and Christophe were alone again. She felt awkward, she realized, like she had just been gossiping about him behind his back. She had been so cold to him during dinner, afraid that any warmth would give her away to William and Miranda. And he had been very quiet. She cleared her throat.

“
Walk with me,” she said.

“
Walk where?”

“
Just a few blocks.” Annata held out her hand. Christophe stepped forward and took it. They walked in silence for a bit, the city quiet in the cold. “You're not going to the New Year's Party?” she finally said.

“
I have other plans,” he replied.

“
What other plans?”

“
Wouldn't you like to know,” he murmured in her ear. Annata felt herself leaning into him, his body heat attracting hers like a magnet.

“
It's not exactly my idea of a rollicking good time, either,” Annata said, as they turned the corner.

“
But you'll still go,” Christophe said. “You wouldn't miss an opportunity to schmooze and be seen. And rub everyone's noses in how wonderful you are.” Annata narrowed her eyes. So, he was angry.

“
It wouldn't hurt you to do the same,” she replied, keeping her tone neutral.

“
But then I would have to care. And I don't. Right?”

“
Absolutely correct.” Annata felt his hand tighten on hers. She was riling him up. The thought sent a thrill through her.

“
Maybe I'll just take off tonight. Go back to Brazil. I could be on the next flight out and not think twice.”

“
Fine. Run away, like always,” Annata said. “Be a coward and a disappointment, if it's easier for you.” A second later, he yanked her into an alley and pressed her against the cold brick of the adjacent building.

“
Must you always think the worst of me?” He bit out through gritted teeth.

“
Are you trying to give the bums a show?” she said, glancing down the dark of the alley. He sighed and released her, running his hand through his hair.

“
Annie, tell me what I have to do.”

“
For the past week, you've given the best of yourself to me,” she said, reaching out to caress his cheek with her gloved hand. “When it gets hard, promise me, you'll keep being good?”

“
What the hell does that mean?”

“
Don't run away. Stay and fight. Stay and be better.” She leaned into him, brushing her lips against his. “Stay and be the man that I know you are.”

“
I am staying.” He kissed her back, dipping his tongue into her mouth. “I'm staying here with you.” He kissed her again, the force of him nearly taking her breath away. “I want to be that man.” Annata felt a moan deep in her throat as he pressed his body against hers, thrusting his knee between hers. “I want to be that man for you.”

The cold city seemed to fade away at his words and she slipped her hands inside his coat and held him, wanting to be as close to him as possible. For a long while, Annata forgot all about business and stressful things. She would worry about William and International in the new year. For now, Christmas had come early that year, and she wasn't about to let the gift go to waste.

Chapter 16

“Don't laugh.” Annata warned over her shoulder as she unlocked her apartment door. Christophe did his best impersonation of an innocent person, raising his eyebrows and looking shocked.

“
Me? I never laugh,” he said.

“
It's small, and it's kind of...you know,” she said, trying not to be embarrassed, but failing miserably. Her home of the last ten years was nothing special, to say the least. A small one-bedroom in a walkup, with an ancient bathroom and a non-existent kitchen. But the rent was cheap, and she didn't spend a lot of time home anyway. The apartment had some interesting architectural details, and she had spent a bit of money on furnishing it. Especially the bedroom. She had spared no expense on a bed and linens. After all, most of the time she spent in the apartment was in bed.

Her hand closed around the doorknob and she sighed inwardly. She was about to let Christophe Van der Kind into her personal, private life. The thought gave her pause. She was opening a big-ass can of worms. But she pushed past her doubts and opened the door. She stood aside as he walked in and looked around.

“Wow,” he said.

“
I told you no laughing.” She closed the door behind him, noting how out of his element he looked in her small, barely furnished living room. He was dressed to the nines, in an expensive wool coat and designer jeans and boots that probably cost more than several months of her rent.

“
It's homey,” he said, walking into the kitchen.

“
I'm saving up to buy a townhouse. A down payment isn't cheap you know. Oh wait. You don't,” she said, leaning against the unfortunate pink formica countertop.

“
I'll call my realtor. You prefer uptown or down?” He reached into his coat and pulled out his phone.

“
Stop it.” She swatted at him. “I don't need your help.”

“
Baby, I think you need all the help you can get,” he said, dropping his head to brush his lips across hers. “I wanna see your bedroom.” She stuck her tongue out and lead the way into the bedroom, her sanctuary. His eyes lit up when he saw the bed.

“
Now this is what I was envisioning when I was on that plane.” He plopped down on the edge of the bed, the down comforter puffing up under him.  He hopped a bit, testing the springs. “Let's go back to bed.” He pulled her hand and she tumbled against him with a sigh.

“
You know I can't.” She ran her hands across his broad shoulders. “My sister is waiting for me. I have to throw some shit in a bag and catch a cab pronto.”

“
Give me a kiss and I'll let you go,” he murmured. She smiled and obliged him, dipping her tongue between his teeth. He tasted of mint and coffee, and she almost purred when his tongue danced across hers. She could feel herself melting into him and the thought of catching a later flight crossed her mind as his hands cupped her ass. But the kiss ended and her mind cleared. She stepped away from him, her knees a little weaker. “So what are you getting me for Christmas?” He said, leaning back on his elbow on the bed.

“
I think I've given you enough,” she said, throwing a smile over her shoulder as she unzipped her leather suitcase. She cleared out the dirty clothes from her Paris trip, thinking it strange she was unpacking just to pack again.

“
Can I get you something? Is that allowed?” he asked. She furrowed her brow, wondering what overpriced thing he was thinking of.

“
Like what?” she said, opening her bureau and raiding her panty drawer. His eyebrow raised as she zipped the colorful satin underthings into her suitcase.

“
You'll see.” He looked up through his lashes, his gaze sending a shock through her. There was something he wasn't saying. She bit her lip  and decided not to pry. He was practically daring her to, but she decided not to take the bait.

“
Mmm-hmm.” She opened the closet door and pulled out a few dresses and a a couple sweaters. The temperature back in Louisiana would be warm, but colder at night. She wanted to be prepared. “I'm only going to be gone a week. Are you sure you'll have time to find whatever you're looking for?”

“
Maybe I already found it.” He picked up one of the sweaters she tossed into her bag and folded it.

“
I'm still not buying you anything,” she said, heading into the bathroom to pack toiletries. When she returned to the bedroom, she found him at her bureau, looking at the photographs arranged on top. “Those are my parents on their wedding day. And my grandmother's high school yearbook photo,” she said, taking a deep breath. It was weird, having Christophe in her room, learning about her life. He picked up the mother-of-pearl picture frame that contained the photo of her parents.

“
They look so young,” he said.

“
They got married when they were 16 and 17. A shotgun wedding. My mom was four months pregnant with me,” she replied, busying herself with packing.

“
And who are these kids?” he asked. She looked up, smiling. That was one of her favorites. “I know this is you,” he said. She went over to him and pointed.

“
Yes, that's me. I was probably about 15 or so. That's my sister. She was another “oops” baby—she's 14 years younger than me. Then there's my cousins, Holland and Vivica. Holland's 8 years younger than me, and Vivica is 12 years younger. They're my dad's twin brother's kids.” She ran her fingertip over the faded picture, taken on the last family trip before Uncle Richard had died. A fishing trip, to the gulf. The younger kids probably didn't even remember it. “My Uncle Richard died the year after. An accident. After that, everything kind of spiraled for Holland and Vivica. Their mother was—is—a drunk.” She felt Christy's eyes on her, and she looked up to meet them.

“
Little Annie is adorable. I especially love those feathered bangs,” he said with a straight face.

“
And those cut-off shorts! I thought I was the shit.”

“
You're beautiful. Then and now.” He set the picture back on the bureau.

“
Maybe I'll bring back the feathered bangs,” she said, leaning on her suitcase in an attempt to zip it up. “Since you like them so much.”

“
Don't go,” he said, his voice quiet.

“
I have to.” She wrenched the zipper, only getting it closed a few more inches. He stepped over and batted her hand away from the zipper. As he wrestled with it, he gave her a side look.

“
Call me when you get there,” he said.

“
I will.” She rolled her eyes.

“
And then every hour after that,” he said, finally getting the suitcase fully zippered.

“
You're pushing it, Van der Kind,” she said as he set the bag on the floor and pulled out the handle.

“
I'm going to miss you,” he said, brushing a knuckle down her cheek. “Promise when you come back, we'll pick up where we left off.”

“
What do you mean?”

“
Don't go having second thoughts about being my girl while you're gone,” he said. “Now that I have you, I'm not letting you go.”

“
Now that you 'have me'?” she scoffed. “I didn't realize I was something to be had.” He pulled her to him and nuzzled her neck.

“
Don't be so defensive,” he mumbled.

“
Don't be so insecure.” She closed her eyes, as his stubble tickled the sensitive skin of her neck. “I'll miss you, too.” She ran her hand down the inside of his coat, until she reached the growing bulge in his jeans. She bit her lip, fighting the temptation to drop to her knees and give him head that instant. He pressed into her touch, his kisses turning to nipping bites along her jaw.

“
I want to fuck you,” he said, lust straining his voice. “Can I?” She sighed, wanting to say yes, but knowing she needed to get going.

“
I have to go,” she whispered. “But I promise, when I get back, we'll pick up exactly where we left off.” With a frustrated growl, he backed away from her and grabbed her bag before she could.

“
I'll hold you to that,” he said.

Downstairs, out in the cold, she hailed a cab and Christophe hauled her luggage into the trunk. Not wanting to drag out their goodbye, she hugged him and then slid into the backseat of the cab. As the cabbie drove north, toward Toni's apartment, Annata couldn't stop herself from turning in her seat and looking out the back window. Christophe still stood outside of her apartment, watching her go. She felt her heart jump in her chest. Christophe Van der Kind loved her. He wanted to be with her.

After years of secretly lusting after him, she still couldn't truly believe it. Settling back in her seat as they turned the corner, the pragmatic side of her pushed to the surface. She wouldn't get her hopes up, she decided. After Christmas, when things settled down, she would see how everything played out. With a nod, she put any feelings she might have for Christophe on the back-burner. She was going to look forward to the holidays with her family, and wait until the new year to get her life in order.

***

“Don't overwork the dough.” Granny's gruff voice cut across the kitchen, and Annata rolled her eyes affectionately. Granny was very particular about some things and one of those things was Christmas Eve dinner. She always made the same dishes—black eyed peas, collard greens, sweet potato pie, and the biggest ham she could get.

“
Yes, Dear, I know,” she said, patting the buttery pie dough on the well-used marble slab.

“
You trying to kill it? It'll be dry as a bone, you keep going at it like that.” Granny shuffled toward her, away from cleaning the collards in the sink. The old lady peered over her Annata's shoulder, her eagle eyes taking in the condition of the pie dough.

“
It's just fine,” Annata protested.

“
You right. You right.” Granny nodded, a smile forming over her lips. She patted Annata's cheek and went back to the collards. Annata smiled and went in search of plastic wrap. “Whatchoo looking for?” Granny asked.

“
Plastic wrap. For the dough,” Annata said, digging through a lower cabinet filled with a lifetime's worth of pots and pans.

“
Pantry,” Granny said, her wrinkled hands ripping the stems from the greens expertly. Annata left the kitchen, stepping out onto the enclosed back porch where the pantry was located. She opened the door, her eyes scanning the hundreds of items on the shelves, precariously stacked and packed.

“
I'm going to throw some of this stuff away, Granny!” she called out. “It's a mess out here!”

“
Don't you touch my stuff. I know just where everything is!” Granny called back, her voice carrying above the Nat King Cole that played on the radio.

“
Some of this shit is from the '80s!” Annata called back, laughing, holding up an ancient Crisco can. She wondered with slight concern if her grandma still used it.

“
It's still good! Don't you touch my stuff,” Granny answered. Shaking her head, Annata put it back where she found it. Same old Granny, she thought, smiling. The house was still the same as it had been in her childhood. Mohair sofas, covered in plastic, and heavy peach-colored brocade curtains still decorated the living room. The room where she was staying used to be her father's but Vivica had also taken over the room in the late '90s, when she lived with their grandma for a year. It hadn't changed since then. Boy band posters still hung on the pink walls. Faded dolls and old baseball trophies from the '70s co-mingled in the closet. Her family's history was everywhere she looked. Her parents had sold her childhood home a few years ago, and moved to a condo in the French Quarter, so this was the only real home she had left. And she cherished it.

In her apron pocket, her phone vibrated against her thigh. A flush of warmth crept up her neck. Before she even looked at the caller ID she knew it was Christy.

“Hey baby. What are you doing?” his voice filled her ear, sending a tremor down her spine.

“
Nothing much. Listening to Christmas music and helping Granny with dinner,” she said, feeling her voice drop to a whisper. She didn't want Granny to know she was on the phone. She'd never hear the end of it.

“
Sounds heavenly,” he said, and she thought she could hear the clink of a drink on his end.

“
What about you? Is that whiskey?” she asked, spotting the plastic wrap at the very top corner of the pantry.

“
Ha, how did you know? I'm hiding in the Old Man's study. Miranda and her decorator are on the rampage. The party is in two hours and no one can find the table cloths.”

“
Quelle horreur,
” Annata said, trying not to laugh at his misfortune. “Why are you there so early?”

“
I couldn't sleep because you weren't next to me,” he said, his voice softer. “I needed a distraction from missing you.”