Home>>read A Merry Little Christmas free online

A Merry Little Christmas(26)

By:Melanie Schuster

       
           



       

Right now his mind was full of thoughts he would have found totally  unbelievable a few weeks ago. For some reason, he had Angelique Deveraux  on the brain and he couldn't get rid of her. Not that he really wanted  to, although he wasn't sure why. She certainly wasn't the kind of woman  he normally went for, but he had an undeniable attraction to her and it  was fruitless to deny it. She was funny, feisty and beautiful, although  not in the way he always preferred. He smiled to himself as he recalled  her slender frame and how delicate yet enticing she felt pressed against  his body. And to top it all off, she kissed like nothing he'd ever  imagined. Nothing in his most erotic experiences could have prepared him  for the way her mouth responded to his. Leaning deeper into his seat,  he felt the familiar stirring that came lately whenever he was around  Angelique. Whatever the attraction was, he was willing to explore it  further, to see where it led the both of them. She wasn't immune to him,  either, that much was certain. Try as she might to deny it, Donnie knew  Angelique was interested in him, too. He wasn't vain or cocky when it  came to women; on the contrary, he tried to always treat women with the  utmost respect and admiration. And he had every intention of doing the  same to Angelique as soon as he was back on the ground.

Donnie was in the best of spirits as he entered the lobby of the Cochran  building from the elevator. He'd parked in the underground garage and  could have taken the elevator directly to the executive floor, but he  had a reason to stop on the ground level. Two reasons, actually: one was  because he loved just looking at the building his brother had designed  Adam had taken an abandoned brick structure and turned it into a modem  marvel, an imposing edifice that combined the best of the new while  revering the old glamour of a bygone Detroit. The ground level had an  old-fashioned arcade consisting of a newsstand a coffee bar, a florist, a  barbershop, a gift shop and an old-fashioned apothecary complete with a  soda fountain. There was never a vacancy for the leased areas and there  was a waiting list for space that went on for years. The marble floors,  the vaulted ceiling with the original light fixtures and the Diego  Rivera murals that were rescued by Adam and restored by an expert crew  hired by Alicia all lent an air of distinction that was unequaled in the  city. The Cochran building was definitely a piece of prestigious real  estate and another example of how Donnie had strengthened the company.

Donnie greeted several employees and acquaintances as he made his way  across the lobby. His destination was the florist, where he purchased a  spray of bird-of-paradise. Their exotic coloring and almost sculptural  beauty made them the perfect choice in his mind. He was whistling softly  as he crossed the lobby again and went down the hallway to the  first-floor studio of Angelique Deveraux, Fine Art Photography, By  Appointment Only. He smiled as he looked at the neat brass letters in a  deco-styled font outside her door, then frowned as he looked through the  glass to see Angelique and a strange man; a strange man who was holding  her in his arms and kissing her. Angelique came out of the man's arms  without a trace of embarrassment, even after she realized it was Donnie  bearing down on her buzzer like a madman.

"Matt, this is the guy I was telling you about," she said as she went to  the door to open it. "You're back," she said to Donnie. "When did you  get back?"

Donnie entered the studio with the air of a lion stalking its prey. He  didn't respond to Angelique's question at first, but simply looked at  her. She waved her hand in front of his face to get his attention.

"Hello? Hello, are you in there? Are those for me or are you redecorating?" she asked indicating the bouquet in his hand.

"They're for you," he said gruffly, thrusting the flowers at her like he  was handing off a baton in a relay race or something equally  unromantic.

Clearly pleased by the flowers, Angelique took them in her right hand  and with her left, reached for Mateo's hand. "Thanks, Adonis, that was  very thoughtful of you. This," she beamed turning to face Mateo, "is my  best friend in the whole world Mateo Antonio de Alfonso y Joaquin  Santana. We haven't seen each other in a long, long time and he's come  to visit," she said still facing Mateo.

"Nice to meet you," Donnie said although his face looked anything but  happy to see the man. This Mateo was about six-one, slender but well  muscled and very exotic-looking with curly black hair, tawny skin and  long-lashed hazel eyes. He had a cleft in his squared chin, high  cheekbones and a full, pouty mouth that looked like it had seen a lot of  action. Donnie grew grim as he reflected that he had witnessed a little  of that action himself.                       
       
           



       

Angelique took her hand away from Donnie's and turned to put the flowers  on the low table. Indicating the sofa, she suggested they sit down.  Mateo sat at one end and she took a chair across from him. Donnie  continued to stand, his expression unchanged. He was trying not to let  it show but suddenly his stomach was churning and his head was pounding.  This was not the reception he'd envisioned, not by a long shot. He'd  anticipated giving the flowers to Angelique, making plans for a romantic  dinner and maybe getting another one of her remarkable kisses.  Definitely one of those. Instead he walked in to find her wrapped up  with someone he'd never seen or heard of before. It suddenly dawned on  him that Angelique was talking; he'd been too put off to really listen  before. "I'm sorry, Angel, I didn't hear you. What did you say?"

Still facing her friend, Angelique repeated what she'd said before,  eliciting an odd response from Mateo, or Matt, as he was called. He gave  Angelique a wicked grin and moved his fingers in the distinctive and  unmistakable pattern of sign language. Angelique made a sound of  disgust, and then signed back as she spoke to him.

"That is so rude. What have I told you about that? No, he's not deaf,  he's just tired, and that's why he didn't hear me. Now behave yourself."

She continued to talk to Donnie and signed while she was speaking to  him. "Matt likes to think he's funny, you have to excuse him," she said,  and shrieked as Matt playfully spanked her leg in retaliation. Signing  rapidly, she said something that made Matt fall back on the sofa in  laughter. She saw Donnie looking at the two of them and felt  self-conscious for some reason.

"How was your trip? I hope it was successful," she said softly. "You really do look a little tired."

Donnie finally smiled at the concern in her voice. "Yes, it was very  successful, as a matter of fact. Listen, I don't want to take up your  time, I see you're busy. How about if I call you later?"

"Sure, that would be fine." After a second she looked at him  quizzically. "Umm, do you have my number?" she asked, still signing.

Matt signed something that was apparently hilarious, as Angelique's eyes  widened and she burst out laughing. "He says you might not have my  number but he has yours. I told you, he thinks he's funny."

In the elevator Donnie ground his teeth and thought he'd never met  anyone less humorous in his life. He managed to get to his office  without snapping anyone's head off, but his mood hadn't improved in the  least. He took off his topcoat and tossed it on the chair across from  his desk, walking over to the small walnut refrigerator in the comer of  the office. He took out a cobalt-blue bottle of his favorite mineral  water and opened it. Staring moodily out the window, he drank most of it  without tasting a thing. Finally, he went to his desk and sat down,  then picked up the phone and punched in a familiar number. After  exchanging pleasantries, he got right to the point. "What are you doing  after work? Okay, sure, I'll be there. Thanks, Warren, I'll see you  then."





Chapter Eleven

A few hours later, Warren was in the kitchen of his big, still mostly  unfurnished house in Farmington Hills preparing dinner. He was  completely at home in the kitchen, as was evidenced by the expert way he  was putting together what looked to be a savory meal for a cold night.  He placed fresh basil leaves under the breast skin of a roasting chicken  while Donnie watched him.

Warren looked at his friend and made note of his foul mood. "What's got  you so down and out, man? I haven't seen you like this since you got  your ring returned."

Donnie gave a half smile. "Technically, the ring wasn't returned since  it was never accepted. I need to get rid of it, too. I keep forgetting  to take it back to the jeweler," he reflected.

"Is that what's got you looking like ten miles of bad road? Just take  the ring back to the store, end of story. And take it back fast-you're  just asking for trouble having it lying around. Get rid of it," Warren  said. He rubbed the inside of the chicken and the neck cavity with pesto  and placed a lemon half in each opening, then covered the plump bird  with olive oil and finished with a sprinkle of sea salt and a twist of  the pepper mill. Warren glanced at the wall clock before slipping the  prepared bird into the oven. "You want something to drink?"