Tangled Hearts (Passion in Paradise) (15 page)

“What?” Cal barked,
stiffening.  “What the fuck did he threaten you with?”

“It wasn’t so much his
words as the feeling I got.  Honestly, it wasn’t a physical threat.  Well,
unless you count saying that sometimes nasty little girls needed to learn
lessons the hard way.”

“He said that?” Cal
clipped, his voice lethally quiet.  “Those words?”

Melody nodded.  “Close
enough.  Honestly, though, I just think he was trying to intimidate me.  He was
pissed, Cal,” she continued to explain.  “Apparently he’s been out of town for
the past several days and the restraining order I took out
just
got
served today.  He wanted me to undo it.”

“Like hell,” Cal
growled, his eyes flashing dangerously. Visibly tense, he forced his shoulders
to relax before he scared Melody.  The last thing he wanted was for her to be
frightened of him.  Her ex, on the other hand, should feel afraid.   When he
found that scumbag, he was going to regret the day he’d decided to try and
scare Melody into seeing things his way.  “I’ll call Zeke tomorrow and find out
why there was such a fuckin’ delay in serving that protection order.”

Melody huffed
impatiently.  “Are you listening to me?  I told you why, Cal.  He was out of
town.  I guess that’s why he thought it was okay to keep calling and hanging
up.  Look, bottom line is he’s been served now and I’m not going to have it
torn up.”

“You sure as shit
aren’t,” he agreed strongly.  “In fact, I’ll be paying Brad a visit of my own
tomorrow.”

“No!” Melody denied. 
“You won’t.  Look, Cal, I get that Brad is an asshole, but I still don’t
believe he’s a real threat.  He caught me off guard today and was able to shake
me a little.  So what?  I’m fine now, and I don’t need you to fight my battles
for me.  If he breaks the order again by contacting me, I will handle it.  I’m
trying to launch a new business.  I don’t need some of my relationship nonsense
potentially creating a scandal when I’m trying to be seen as a respectable
business owner.  This is a small town.  Word gets around.  You don’t want folks
thinking I’m some kind of abused woman that can’t keep her personal life in
order while I’m trying to gain the town’s respect.  Please, let me handle
this.”

Cal was silent a long
moment as he absorbed what she was saying.  He could see her point of view, but
ultimately her safety trumped her desire to keep her private life private.  He
could be a reasonable man, however… and maybe get a little closer to Melody in
the process.  “Okay,” he finally consented.  “We’ll play things as close to
your way as we can.”

“Meaning?” Melody
questioned suspiciously.

“Meaning I won’t go
find Brad’s ass  tomorrow and kick it if we can agree on a few conditions,” Cal
bargained, sliding his fingers through her silky long hair and tugging it
gently until she inclined her head to look up at him.

“Start talking, Cal,”
Melody grumbled, clearly unhappy that she wasn’t entirely winning this recent
round of Who’s-in-Control-of-Melody’s-Life-Today.

“Listen, Mel, I made a
promise to your brother to look after you, and I keep my word.  Always.  But
even if I’d never promised him a thing, this would be important to me because
you’ve become important to me.  So do me a solid and cut me some slack here. 
Tomorrow, I call Zeke and let him know that Brad hasn’t exactly obeyed the
letter of the law as far as the restraining order goes.  If he chooses to have
a word with the asshat, that’s on him, but I won’t.  For now,” he added
meaningfully.  “But if I’m making that concession, I’m gonna ask that for the
next few weeks, you stay close.  No wandering off on your own.  I don’t know
what this dick is capable of.  You said he sounded different today, and that
doesn’t fill me with warm fuzzies.  Could be that he’s just a fuckwad that’s
pissed that daddy’s money can’t get him what he wants.  But it could also be
that he’s a psycho that’s fixated on you.  I don’t know him, so I can’t say.”

“But I do know him!”
Melody exploded.

“Do you?” Cal asked
simply.  “Did you know he was capable of betraying you with half the female
population of Knoxville?”  When she said nothing, he shook his head.  “Maybe
you don’t know him half so well as you think you do, Melody.  If you did, you
wouldn’t be in this position.”

Melody inhaled
sharply.  “Low blow,” she whispered.

“Maybe,” he assented
with a grim nod.  “But it’s the truth, babe.  You needed to hear it.  At any
rate, you stay close and we have no further Brad problems, I’ll stay away from
him.  He shows his ass again, though, and all bets are off.  Nobody is going to
threaten you while I’m around to put a stop to it.  He doesn’t get to use fear
and intimidation to control my woman.”

“I’m not yours, Cal,”
Melody contradicted him sharply, her eyes stormy as she stared at him.

“Had my tongue deep in
you, Melody. 
Everywhere
, babe.   I know what you smell like when your
body is so aroused it could spontaneously combust at any given second.  I know
what you taste like when passion overwhelms you.  I know how your body reacts
to my touch.  Trust me, you’re mine.”

“Giving me an orgasm
doesn’t give you ownership rights to my body!” Melody exclaimed in frustration.

Cal just grinned. 
“Look in the mirror, Melody.  The brand on your neck tells another story.”

Automatically lifting a
hand to touch the faint bruise on her neck, Melody’s eyes narrowed.  “You
didn’t,” she hissed.

His smile was her
answer.

Chuckling as her eyes
widened and she bolted off the couch toward the bathroom, he heard her irate
squeal of dismay echo like a war cry through the house.  Lifting his eyes
toward the ceiling, he wondered just how many Christmas lights he’d need to
hang before she forgave him for something he fully intended to do again at the
next available opportunity.

Five Days Later

Christmas Day

 Yawning widely as she
rolled over on her comfortable king-size mattress, Melody Reardon became almost
instantly aware that she wasn’t alone.  Freezing in the big bed as she caught a
whiff of the now-familiar subtle cologne of a man intent on convincing her that
being naughty was a whole lot more fun than being nice, she briefly toyed with
the idea of playing possum.  Maybe if she pretended to be asleep long enough,
the man that sat behind her with his hip against her ass would grow bored and
wander out of what was supposed to be her off-limits bedroom.

Then again, this was
former First Sergeant Callum Valentine.   Based on what she’d experienced
firsthand over the last month he’d lived with her, the man didn’t appear to
have any boundaries.  At least, none that he wasn’t willing to cross when the
mood suited him.  That included entering a room where she distinctly remembered
banning him from crossing the threshold.

Of course, that was all
part of Cal’s charm… or so he tried to tell her on a regular basis.

“I know you’re not
asleep, Sweet Melody,” Cal’s deep, amused voice drawled as she felt his fingers
at her temple, drawing her long hair behind her ear.  “It’s time to rise and
shine.”

Squinting at the
brightly-lit numbers of her alarm clock on her light pine nightstand, she
groaned into her pillow.  “It’s zero foul early, you asshat.  Not all of us get
up with the chickens, Cal.”  She knew he couldn’t help it.  He had what she
liked to call early riser syndrome.  His big body was conditioned to wake up
before the sun even rose in the sky.  It came from being in the service, and
her brother had the same frickin’ sickness, often waking her at the crack of
dawn when he was home between deployments.  That, however, wouldn’t save him
from her wrath if he continued to try rousing her from her toasty warm bed. 
“Get out of my bedroom and come back and knock on my door when the sun - otherwise
known as that big, bright-ass star in the sky - has been there for more than an
hour.”

“Now, is that any way
to talk to your man when he comes bearing your first gift this fine Christmas
morning,” Cal chided as he lowered a fragrant cup of coffee in front of her
face.

Damn, that coffee
looked good.  And it smelled even better, Melody thought, torn between giving
into the Sandman for an hour or two more sleep or letting Cal win.  Again. 
Breathing deeply, the rich aroma pulled her eyes open wider.  If she wasn’t
mistaken, he’d brewed some of those French gourmet beans that you could only
get in that little coffee joint she’d been boycotting since the day she met
him.  In part at least, she blamed that bitter barista for the pickle she found
herself in most days – the ongoing battle that her heart and hormones had with
her brain over Callum freaking Valentine.

Turning sharply in the
bed, she flopped over on her side to fume at Cal.  “You crossed my picket
line!” she accused.

Cal’s eyebrows lifted
as he tilted his head.  “Huh?”

“My picket line,” she
repeated caustically.  “You crossed it.  The Coffee Klatch is off-limits to
this household!  The Klatch crew are on
my
most wanted hit list and
you
consorted with the enemy.”

His lips twitched, but
Cal quickly got it under control.  “It was necessary.  You needed an incentive
to get out of bed and the café is closed for the holidays.  This is the next
best thing,” he declared, indicating the cup of coffee with a nod of his hair. 
“C’mon, Mel.  Just for today.  Call a cease fire in the name of goodwill and
drink this expensive French crap,” he pleaded, waving the steaming cup under
her curled nose.  “You know, even the English and the Germans called a halt to
the war on Christmas Day during WWII.”

Melody’s eyes
narrowed.  “Are you making that up?”

Cal shrugged.  “I read
it somewhere.  I’ve got no idea if it’s true or not but it sounded good.  Now,
take the fuckin’ coffee and drink it before I pry your mouth apart and pour it
down your throat myself,” he growled, losing patience with her.

Snatching the Christmas
mug from his hands, she glared at the candy canes adorning the enamel before
lifting the aromatic brew to her lips. 

“Besides, if not for
that little coffee shop from hell, we wouldn’t have met that day and you
wouldn’t have cast your spell on me,” he pointed out with a grin.

“I did
not
cast
anything on you.  If I had, you’d have warts and a humped back.  Believe me, I
would have come up with some creative stuff,” she assured him firmly, taking
another sip of coffee.  “But it
is
Christmas, so I’ll try to overlook
your betrayal.”

 “Triple threat,” Cal
muttered, stealing her coffee cup and taking a sip for himself.

“What do you mean?” she
asked warily.

Handing the morning
wake-up juice back to her, he smiled again.  “I
mean
that you’re a
triple threat, Princess.  Sass, class, and an ass that can bring a strong man
crashing to his knees.”

Melody snorted. 
“Hardly.”

Leaning toward her, Cal
stole a kiss before she could avert him.  That was nothing new.  She’d been
trying to avoid his lips since she’d finally sobered up enough to realize that
if not for his moral code almost a week ago, she would have mounted him like a
stallion and ridden him
all
the way to her finish line.  How was that
for being classy?

And as good as it felt,
having his lips against hers was a big no – no.  She wasn’t going to go there
with him.  It just wasn’t a good idea.  Callum Valentine was just too…too…
everything
. 
She’d gone on a man-diet, damn it!

Now, if somebody would just
explain that to her whiny vagina, then this Christmas would be great! 

“Cal,” Melody mumbled
against Cal’s talented mouth.  And dear Lord, the things that infuriating man
could do with his lips, she thought a touch desperately as he kept up with his leisurely
nibbling of her lips.  “Cal, stop.  We can’t do this.”  

She knew Cal heard her
clear, but muffled plea vibrate against his mouth by his chuckle as he slowly
moved his lips to her ear.  “You know, Santa might see you when you’re sleeping
and knows when you’re awake, but he’s also knows when you are horny and aware
when you’re just turned on.  So please don’t bother lying, cause you know
that’s wrong, wrong, wrong,” he sang in a softly off-key voice against her ear.

“Did you just desecrate
an innocent holiday carol for your own nefarious purposes?” Melody managed to
wheeze between her laughs as Cal relieved her of her coffee before she spilled
it all over both of them.

“Hey!  This Sergeant
Santa has skills, Princess.  Now, get your ass outta bed.  We’ve got a whole
day of holiday fun to have and that starts now!” he ordered sternly.

“Cal, it will still be
Christmas when the sun comes up,” Melody returned, already snuggling back down
under her downy comforter.

“Woman, you shoved my
ass out on an icy roof in below freezing temperatures to string 7,432 twinkling
Christmas lights because according to you, ‘Christmas isn’t Christmas without
all the bells and whistles that go with it!’,”  Cal declared, raising his voice
a couple of octaves to mimic Melody.

“Is that supposed to be
your dramatic interpretation of me?  If so, I remain unimpressed,” Melody
snickered without opening her eyes.

Cal chose to tune her
out and continued.  “You then preceded to grow even more afflicted with this
disturbingly incurable holiday decorating disease, forcing me to build you a
candy cane walkway.  After that, you continued with the holiday mania and
proceeded to make me gift wrap the front fucking door in gold tin foil, and
then spent over an hour bitching that the red bow I put in the middle wasn’t
perfectly placed!  I spent over an hour moving that fucking red velvet bow
until it met your crazy Santa standards!  I did not do all this so that you
could sleep away half of Christmas Day!  Now either you get out of bed willingly
like a good little princess should, or I haul your ornery ass out of there
myself.  Either way, you’re on your feet in five, soldier,” he growled,
snatching Melody’s feather pillow from underneath her head.

Moaning as her head
bounced against her mattress, Melody cracked one eyelid.  “Cal,” she began, her
voice deceptively soft.  “You, sir, are about to find out how much damage one
very real Nutcracker can do when she feels harassed.”

“Ha!  Santa’s got
stones of steel, my stubborn little elf.  Now, I suggest you get up,” he
commanded, ripping the comforter off her body. “Or, Santa can show you how good
he is at unwrapping presents,” he drawled, fingering the hem of her tank top.”

Freezing for a full
three seconds, Melody watched Cal’s eyes gleam as his fingertips stroked the
skin above her panties.  Leaping from the bed, she quickly grabbed her robe and
threw it on.  “Okay!  I’m up!” she yelled, jabbing her finger toward the door. 
“Now, get out and I’ll get dressed.”

Nodding slowly as his
eyes traveled the length of her body, Cal grinned.  “And here I was hoping that
you’d finally choose door number two and let me finally unwrap….”

“Out, Cal,” Melody
demanded, pointing toward the door.  If she didn’t get him out of her room
soon, she’d be unwrapping the gift and taking it out of its packing, too.

“Coffee and donuts in
five.  I’ve already prepped the turkey to go into the oven, but you get first
pick on what movie we watch today,” he informed her as he closed the door to
her bedroom behind him.

Staring at her bedroom
door, Melody relaxed and smiled, pleased that he’d been listening when she’d
explained the Reardon family tradition of taking turns watching their favorite
holiday movies while the turkey baked on Christmas Day.  Then after the holiday
dinner, her family had opened gifts.  Then, if it was dark enough, they’d take
one final ride around town and look at the holiday lights.  The past few years,
the Reardon traditions had fallen by the wayside.  Between their grandmother’s
death, RJ being stationed all over the place, and her relationship with Brad,
the things that she’d done for years with her family had sort of disappeared. 

This year was going to
be different, though.  Cal had promised to make sure of it.  Since he hadn’t
grown up with any traditions of his own, he’d been almost eager to latch onto
hers.  His enthusiasm had melted her heart – and almost her panties.  The truth
was, if she wasn’t extremely careful, she was going to fall for her bodyguard. 

Oh, who the hell was
she kidding?  She was already half-gone on him.

And if she didn’t take
care…he’d know it, too. 

Things had already
gotten entirely too complicated – especially with her almost giving him a bite
of her cookie and all.  And complicated was exactly what she did NOT need right
now, she reminded herself as she shoved her legs into a pair of worn jeans.

“You’re down to three
minutes, Princess!”  She heard him yell from just outside the door.  Fighting
back a smile, she reached for the ancient gray Army sweatshirt she’d swiped
from the laundry room the other day.  Cal had given her shit for stealing his
shirt, but he’d eventually admitted that she looked better in it than he did
anyway.  Plus, it was soft and warm, and on this frigid Christmas morning, warm
was exactly what she needed.

“I’m coming!” she
yelled back as she shoved her bare feet into her slippers, her mind already on
the first movie she was going to make him watch.  If her brother’s reaction to
her favorite movie was anything to go by, Cal would soon regret forcing her out
of bed.

She’d make sure of it.