Gift from Within (Twelve Nights)

The Gift From Within
Alice Gaines
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2005 Alice Gaines
An Authorized Excerpt

Rick Harrison stared out his front window at the gathering storm. During the day, the sky had gone from blue to gray to black. Now the longest night of the year had fallen, accompanied by a frigid wind. The Weather Channel predicted two feet or more of snow, piling into drifts over five feet. A real Maine blizzard. Just the way he liked 'em.

He took a swig of his coffee and winced. Battery acid, no better than the last three cups, but he had to drink something. Booze made him crazy. He'd poured out the last bottle over the summer. Hell, the snails had probably needed something to drink along with their meal of pitiful vegetables he'd tried to grow. The joys of country living -- what a crock. But at least, he'd never have to swelter through 120-degree heat again. For that, he'd put up with a lot.

Oh, yeah, blizzards were just fine with him. Besides, when the storm passed, he'd have plenty of work plowing out driveways. If his disability check came this month without a huge battle, he could buy another cord of wood.

The first flakes of snow started to fall. Big, fat things, too lazy to fall with any speed. The wind whirled them into little funnel clouds. Soon the leftover slush from the last storm had a fresh coating of pure white. It would pile up quickly, but his Tacoma with chains on the tires could handle it.

Movement outside. He squinted to see through the gloom. Damn, it looked as if someone was out there. What the hell? What kind of moron would go out in a storm like this?

He set his coffee on the windowsill and went for his jacket so he could check around. Outside, the porch light barely made a dent in the falling snow, which had picked up speed. The wind whipped flakes of it in his face, where it stung. He held up his hand to shield his eyes. "Anyone out here?"

Only the whistling of the wind answered.

"Hey! If you're out there, you'd better get in here. Pronto."

Still nothing. He stared into the distance as far as he could. Hell, he'd probably imagined it. It wouldn't be the first time he'd seen people who weren't there. It'd be the first time his imaginary visitors came in a snowstorm, though. He could tell that to a shrink if he ever got to the top of the VA's waiting list.

Damn, he had to get the self-pity under control.

He went back inside and closed the door behind him. When he hung the jacket on its hook, a few snowflakes fell to the floor and melted. There'd be a puddle there soon.

He grabbed his mug and headed toward the kitchen for another cup of poison. Just as he got there, the lights went out. Shit. He'd have to use the camp stove until the power came back on. After fumbling on the counter for a while, he found the lantern and struck a match. Soon, the room filled with soft light. Just as he reached for the still-hot coffee in the pot, a sound came from the front of the house. It sounded like a knock on the door.

He turned and stood in silence for a minute. There it was again. Holy shit, there was someone out there.

After grabbing the lantern, he went back into the front room. The porch light showed someone right outside the door. The figure was hard to make out, but it looked like a woman. She had to be lost, out of her mind, or both.

He opened the door and found a sight that qualified one of them for the loony bin. The woman was tall and willowy with green eyes and flowing red hair. Red hair flecked all over with snowflakes. She wore something that matched her eyes. No more substantial than a negligee, the dress didn't cover her arms at all. Even more idiotic for this weather, her feet were bare. "What in hell?"

"May I come in?"

"Shit, yes. What am I thinking?"

When he stepped aside, she glided into the room. Her feet moved in the regular way, but they hardly seemed to touch the floor, making her look as if she were floating. That had to be a trick of the lantern light, but even that seemed enhanced as if the room had its own glow. Did she do that somehow?

She smiled at him. "You should probably close the door."

He did. "What in hell were you doing out there?"

"Knocking on your door. Didn't you hear me?"

"How else could I have known you were out there?"

"So, why did you ask what I was doing?"

"Don't take everything I say literally."

She shrugged. "How would you like me to take it?"

She could sure think up weird questions. Maybe he'd been away from women too long. Maybe they all talked like this. "What were you doing?" Rephrase that. "Why were you out there in the snow dressed like that?"

She looked down at herself. "You don't like my clothes?"

Lord knew he ought to like them well enough. The flimsy material gave him a good view of her considerable curves. Full breasts, rounded belly, ample hips. You wouldn't find her on any runways, but few guys liked stick women. He could use her belly for a pillow and die a happy man.

Whoa. He hadn't had any fantasies like that for a while, and these days, he seldom got more than the automatic erections most men got in their sleep. He was getting a woody right now, though. It was a beaut.

She stared at the front of his pants. "It looks as if you like my dress, but I can change into something else if you want."

"Not on my account. I just think you shouldn't be outdoors in a storm like this in clothes like that."

"But I'm not outdoors, thanks to you."

Hoo boy. She had to have escaped from a loony bin nearby. Now, he'd end up trapped with her for at least tonight because no one was going anyplace any time soon. All alone with her, her body, and a hard-on that kept getting worse. Pretty soon, the only habitable part of the house would be right in front of the fireplace. They'd be stuck there in the lantern light for hours.

"You'd better sit down in front of the fire and get warm." He turned away from all those soft curves and got a hand-knitted throw from the couch.

"What a lovely room. Very cozy."

"The place came furnished." He'd kept it clean, with everything in its place. The idea of him, a well-trained killing machine, surrounded by comforters and samplers on the wall was pretty strange, but he liked it. Maybe some day he'd feel like he deserved a home.

When he turned back, she was standing almost on top of him, her mouth only a few inches below his. She smiled up at him, her lips parting in invitation. If she wanted him to kiss her, she couldn't make it any more obvious. He ought to, damn it, even if he didn't know her name. Even if she was missing a few cards out of the sanity deck. It had been so fucking long since he'd had a woman. That hadn't mattered until five minutes ago, but right now his cock was throbbing. He needed this, needed her.

She tipped her head up and closed her eyes. "Do it, Rick. Kiss me."

"How did you know my name?"

"Does it matter?"