Page 6 of A Beastly Christmas Cheerful
“My snowman,” the person mumbles.
They have long chestnut hair, and when I turn their face in my direction, I have to brush it away. I’m struck at first that it’s a woman, and then at how incredibly beautiful she is. It’s not that I haven’t seen women before, or even recently, but I’ve never seen someone so utterly exquisite. She’s like the women Botticelli used to paint, flawless and angelic. I have the irrational urge to pull her against my chest and run into the house before anyone else sees her. Or someone tries to take her from me.
What the fuck is wrong with me? The impulse makes me release her and take a step back. Was I really overwhelmed by the need to kidnap this woman? Oh god, what’s happening?
“Snowman,” the beauty whines.
Against all reason, I reach for her again, holding her face in my hand. “Are you all right?”
The beauty doesn’t wake, but she's holding on to a snowman with one hand as she mumbles. Is it wrong to be jealous of Christmas decorations? Reaching in, I unbuckle her seatbelt and then place the snowman in her lap. Clearly it’s important to her.
“I’ll keep you,” I whisper and then swallow. “I’ll keep you safe.” I add the last word because I’m not having a mental breakdown and kidnapping her. I’m not. I’m not.
The desire to hold her completely in my arms takes over, and I allow myself to give in to the longing. I have to help her, and she can’t stay here all night. Clearly, I have to carry her. As soon as she’s in my arms, my heart settles down. I didn’t realize how much it was racing until I picked her up. Now there’s a calm inside me I’ve never felt before.
As soon as I have her inside, I go straight to my bedroom. That’s where she needs to be so I can keep her safe. I don’t want to let her go, but I have to if I want to put her on the bed. I debate if I should just get in with her so I can keep her in my arms but dismiss the thought.
“Can you tell me your name?” I ask, trying to get her to wake up. She might have a concussion, and I should keep her talking.
“Belle,” she mumbles and wraps her arms tighter around the snowman.
“Belle,” I say, testing it out, and my voice seems to relax her. The way it warms me from the inside out makes me wonder if I’ve got a concussion too. “I’ve got you.”
Reaching for her shoes, I slip them off along with her socks. Her toenails are painted red and have little snowflakes on them. I run my hands over her feet and massage them a little to make sure they’re warm.
“Yes,” she moans, and my hands still.
I’m instantly so fucking hard that I have to adjust myself. One moan and I almost came in my pants? Fuck, what is happening to me?
When I have myself mostly under control, I go back to getting her comfortable. She’s wearing a big winter coat, so I take that off and then remove the scarf from around her neck. That’s probably good enough, but then I wonder if her pants and sweater are uncomfortable too.
“No,” I say to myself and squeeze my eyes shut. I have to stop these fucking thoughts.
“Marley.” The sound of my name comes from her, and my knees almost buckle. She hums something unintelligible and seems fitful as she kicks her legs. When her fingers reach out in my direction, I decide to take it as a sign.
Reaching for the button of her pants, I gently undo them and then slide them over her lush hips. Her panties are white cotton with candy canes on them, and for some reason it’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. There’s no lingerie in the world that would turn me on as much as what I’m seeing right now.
Once I have her pants off, I lift her sweater, and she raises her arms to help me take it off of her. She’s wearing a matching bra, and I have to force myself to look away. It doesn’t work, but I do try. Okay, I don’t try that hard.
She seems to settle down once her clothes are off, and I reach for the fur blanket I keep at the end of my bed for cold winter nights just like this one. It smells like me, and something primal in the back of my mind urges me to get my scent on her. Am I turning into an animal? Maybe that Christmas yeti story I was thinking of earlier wasn’t so far off.
As soon as I have her covered, I brush her chestnut hair away from her face, and it fans across the pillow. She looks like something out of a fairy tale, and I have the feeling I could sit here and watch her all night.
I put the snowman on the bedside table next to her and take a step back. Running a hand down my face, I take a breath and think of what to do next. I should go move her car before it gets buried in the snow. Or maybe I let it get buried so she can never leave.
Telling myself that I have to do one right thing, I leave her in my room and go back out into the storm. The least I can do is get her car out and park it in front of my house. She might not be able to drive it back down the mountain for a few days, but at least she’ll see that I didn’t purposely try to keep her here.
Even if that’s exactly what I plan on doing.
Chapter Five
BELLE
I sit up, gasping, my hand flying to my head. There’s a slight ache there, but my mind goes straight to my snowman. Did he die in the wreck? I'm so freaking fired. There’s no way I didn’t total that car. This is ten times worse than the espresso machine.
As I look down, the gravity of my situation sinks in. I’m in a strange bed in my bra and panties. Where the hell am I, and why don’t I have any clothes on?
I spot the tiny snowman sitting on the nightstand next to me. Okay, I'm not kidnapped. Right? If I were kidnapped, they wouldn't have brought my snowman in. The person must have saved me. Still dizzy, I slowly throw my legs over the side of the massive bed as I take in my surroundings. I’m in a cabin of some sort, and honestly it’s lovely.
