Unexpected Angel: Unexpected Angel / Undercover Elf

When Holly pushed her arms into the sleeves she could still feel the heat from his body in the folds of fabric. His scent drifted up around her, a mix of soap and fresh air and horses, a welcome relief from her previous parfum and a reminder of the time spent in his arms. “Thank you,” she murmured.

“Now, sit,” Alex said. He knelt down in front of her and gently removed her ruined shoe. The mess had seeped through her panty hose and stuck in between her toes. He circled her calf with his hands, then slowly ran his palms toward her ankle. But the imagined caress ended abruptly when he tore through the nylon at her calf. She sucked in a sharp breath as he skimmed her stocking down along her leg and bared her foot. “You should have worn those boots.”

“I told you animals hate me,” she reminded him, a bit breathlessly.

“I’m sure Scirocco had this all planned. He’s grown to be quite a curmudgeon in his retirement and, in truth, has a real talent for torturing our female guests.” With that, he pushed to his feet and disappeared into a small alcove nearby. She heard water running, then leaned back against the barn wall.

“They say horse poop is the best beauty treatment for the skin.”

She glanced to her right and saw Alex’s father peeking out from a nearby stall. Though he’d introduced himself the previous night, they hadn’t shared but a few words. But Holly already knew she’d found a friend in Jed Marrin. The man had a devilish sense of humor and an easygoing manner that his son seemed to lack.

“You know, Miss Bennett, you’re the first woman we’ve had at this farm in two years. And I don’t mind saying, you’re a far sight nicer to look at than these old nags.”

“Thank you, Mr. Marrin.”

He winked. “You can call me Jed if I can call you Holly.”

“All right, Jed.”

He nodded to her foot. “Around here we call that a Stony Creek pedicure.”

A small giggle slipped from her throat and Holly stretched her leg out in front of her, turning it from side to side. “Once I tell all my friends in the city, I’m sure you’ll be able to package some of this stuff and make a million.”

“Well, we got plenty of inventory,” he said. “And I account for all of it, it seems.”

Alex returned with a bucket of soapy water, a first-aid kit, and the pair of boots she’d refused just minutes before. “Except for that little item you missed in front of Scirocco’s stall,” he said. He gave his father an irritated look and the old man winked at Holly again, then went back to his work in the stall. Holly watched him until she felt Alex’s hands cup her foot. Slowly he placed it in the bucket of warm water and began to rub.

Holly gulped nervously, wonderful sensations surging up her leg. She’d never considered the foot an erogenous zone, but with her pounding heart and her swimming head, Holly knew she’d be forced to revise her opinion. What Alex Marrin was doing to her toes was simply sinful! Biting back a moan of pleasure, she scrambled for a topic of conversation.

“How long have you lived here—on the farm?” she murmured, her voice cracking slightly.

“My whole life,” Alex said, moving his hands up to her ankle. “My great-grandfather owned this place before he turned it over to my grandfather, who turned it over to my father, who turned it over to me. It’s been in the family since the early 1900s. There used to be lots of breeders and boarders in the area, but now, we’re one of the last. Most of the thoroughbreds are raised south of the Mason-Dixon line.”

He took her foot from the bucket and dried it with a rough towel, then slipped her foot into the rubber boot. She kicked off her other shoe and the second boot followed the first.

“Now that we’ve tended to your bruised pride, let’s see about that finger.” Alex took her left hand and gently examined her finger. He pulled a bandanna from his jeans and wrapped her wound. “It’s not so bad. I’ve got antiseptic and bandages here.”

“Shouldn’t I get a shot?” she asked.

He sent a withering glare Scirocco’s way. “Don’t worry, he’s not rabid.”

He bent over her finger, his clumsy attempts to render first aid undeniably charming. Holly smiled inwardly. It felt good to have a man worry over her, even a man as indifferent and aloof as Alex Marrin. Maybe getting bitten by a horse and sitting in horse manure wasn’t such a bad trade-off for his attentions.

He carefully washed her finger with a soapy rag, then doused it with antiseptic. A bandage followed. “There,” he said. “All better.” Alex pressed his lips to her fingertip.

Holly blinked in surprise and when he glanced up, she could see he was similarly startled by his own action.

“I—I’m sorry,” Alex stammered, suddenly flustered. “I’m so used to fixing Eric’s cuts and scrapes, it’s force of habit.”

She smiled and withdrew her hand. “It does feel better.” Holly drew a shaky breath.

He nodded, his jaw suddenly tight, his eyes distant. Alex cleared his throat, clearly uneasy in her presence. “Well, I should really get back to work,” he murmured. “The house is empty. You can look around, get your bearings. Make yourself a decent breakfast.”

With that, he turned and walked out, leaving Holly still wrapped in his coat, her finger still throbbing and her leg still tingling from his touch. She clomped toward the door in the oversized boots, wondering if there’d ever come a time when she’d understand Alex Marrin. In the end, she decided it didn’t matter. She was here to do a job and nothing Alex did or said—including kissing her fingers or massaging her feet—would change her life in the least.

3

“SHE’S A PRETTY LITTLE thing. And don’t tell me you haven’t noticed. Every time I turn around, you’re touchin’ her or starin’ at her. Last night at supper you almost tripped all over yourself helping to clear the table. You never do that when I cook.”

“Maybe if you cooked as good as she does, I would,” Alex murmured, not loud enough to reach his father two stalls away. He turned his focus back to the dandy brush he was smoothing over the coat of his favorite mare, Opal. Never mind that he’d been brushing the same spot for nearly ten minutes, caught up in an idle contemplation of the beautiful woman who’d suddenly barged into his home and his life.

How many times that day had he been tempted to wander back to the house, to casually search for a hot cup of coffee or quick snack with the real purpose of seeing her again? According to Jed, she’d spent the entire day yesterday with a tape measure and notepad in hand, scribbling down ideas. And when Jed had begun dinner preparations, she’d swooped down and changed his menu plan, whipping up a deliciously rich Beef Stroganoff to replace the pan-fried steaks his father usually managed to blacken.

That morning at breakfast, she’d blithely prepared another stunning culinary event of scrambled eggs, bacon and homemade biscuits. He’d given her the keys to the truck, expecting her to go right out and buy herself a decent pair of boots—and the ingredients for a gourmet supper that evening. But careful observation of the garage proved that she hadn’t left the house at all.

“You don’t have to act like you’re not listening,” Jed muttered, now leaning up against the stall gate. “I’ve seen the way you look at her.”

“And how’s that?” Alex asked, unable to ignore the bait.

“Like maybe not every woman in the world is trouble?” his father replied. “Like maybe it’s about time to put your problems with Renee in the past?”

Alex bit back a harsh laugh. He’d never put his problems with Renee in the past. Every day he was reminded that he’d failed at marriage and that his son was suffering for that failure. “I made a stupid decision marrying Renee. Hell, we only knew each other for a few months before I asked her to marry me.”

“That’s the way it always has been for Marrin men,” his father said. “We meet the woman of our dreams and it’s love at first sight.”

“She wasn’t the woman of my dreams,” Alex muttered. “And neither is Holly Bennett. I won’t be making the same mistake twice.”

“I don’t know. This one’s different,” Jed said. “She didn’t screech and holler when she ended up backside down in a pile of steaming horse apples. Takes a special kind of woman to maintain her composure in the presence of manure.”

“She’s a city girl. All manners and sophistication. My guess is she can handle herself no matter what might come along.”

“Your guess?” Jed scoffed. “It wouldn’t hurt you to get to know her. That little girl is working her tail off for your son. She’s up at the house right now scurrying around like a squirrel in a nut factory. I’ve never seen a body get so worked up over Christmas cookies. She’s sent me to the store twice today to fetch her ingredients. Says we’re havin’ cocoa van for dinner. I figure that’s some kind of fancy chocolate dessert shaped like a truck.”

“Coq au vin,” Alex corrected. “Chicken in wine sauce.” His stomach growled in response and he realized that he hadn’t bothered with lunch that day.

“Oh, yeah? Well, that’s even better.”

“It would do you well to remember that you’ve got work in the barn,” Alex said, tossing the dandy brush into the bucket as he grabbed the handle. “Your job doesn’t include fetching for her. She can drive herself to the store.”

She could do a whole lot more than drive, Alex mused. His thoughts drifted back to that first morning, when he’d carried her in his arms and kissed her bandaged finger. Though the gesture had been instinctive, his reaction hadn’t been. In truth, he’d wanted to draw her into his embrace and cover her mouth with his, to see if the taste of a woman was still as powerful as he remembered.

Alex cursed softly. So he’d been a long time without feminine companionship. Hell, it went deeper than that. In his whole life he’d only had a handful of women. He’d met Renee nine years ago, when they were twenty. He’d asked her to marry him three months later. Not much time for sowing wild oats, Alex mused. Maybe that’s why he found himself so attracted to Holly. She was a confident and sophisticated woman, she was beautiful, and she was in close proximity. He dropped the bucket on the concrete floor with a clatter. And that’s exactly how it had all started with the fickle Renee.

He stepped out of the stall to find his father leaning against a post, a piece of timothy clenched in his teeth, his gaze fixed on Alex. “Don’t ruin this for Eric,” Jed warned. “Be nice to her or stay away. There’s no middle ground here.”

Alex shook his head, then stalked to the door, the faint sound of Jed’s chuckle echoing through the silent barn. Of course, he’d be nice! He wasn’t some rube from upstate New York, some farm boy lacking in manners. He could certainly maintain a cordial relationship with Holly Bennett—and without lapsing into sexual longing every few minutes!

He wasn’t prepared for the assault on his senses when he walked in the door. Christmas carols piped cheerily from the stereo in the family room, filling the house with music. The scent of baking was thick in the air and he followed his nose into the kitchen. She’d started a fire in the family room fireplace and the wood snapped and popped. But it was the kitchen that stopped him short.