BAYOU NOËL (2 page)

Finding her backbone, and ignoring the
flutters of excitement that raced through the pit of her stomach,
Molly snatched it back.

Not this time.

She wasn’t going to allow her aching
awareness of this male to blind her to the fact that he saw her as
nothing more than just another Healer.

She lifted her chin and feigned impassive,
business-like composure. “If you read my letter, you know I’m no
longer your mother’s caregiver. If you want to bark orders at
someone, find Sylvia.”

“I don’t know Sylvia,” he snapped. “And I
have no intention of knowing her.” He grabbed her shoulders, his
voice softening to a low rasp as his gaze swept over her face. “You
belong here, Molly.”

She let him touch her, a deep sadness
settling in the center of her soul. “No, Garrick. I don’t. And
that’s the whole point.”

Without warning, Garrick’s face paled to an
ashen shade. “You met someone.”

She
pressed her lips together.
If he only knew. If he only understood and cared
and wanted…
“I told you
in the letter that I have a new position.”

“One you clearly don’t need, since you
already have a position here,” he returned hotly.

Frustrated at him, at herself, she pulled
away. “I think I’m capable of deciding where I want to work.”

She watched the glow of his cat reacting to
her rejection, snarling, upper lip curling.

“And caring for my mother is no longer good
enough for you?”

“Don’t you dare imply I don’t love your
mother,” she rasped, her chin tilted to a defiant angle.

She’d be damned if he demeaned the devotion
she’d offered over the past five years. Virginia was not just a
patient, not just a friend, and he knew it as well as she did.

Reaching up, Garrick tugged on his tie, his
irritation clearly being replaced by genuine confusion.

“
Why are
you so mad?” He gave a baffled shake of his head. “Why are you
acting like this? Or
reacting
like this? It’s not you.”

Her heart squeezed painfully. “You don’t know
me.” She met his gaze squarely. “You never wanted to know me.”

He stiffened at that, the predictable
wariness settling on his fiercely beautiful face.

It was exactly what Molly expected. Had come
to expect. They might share the most intimate details of their
thoughts and desires through their letters, but whenever Garrick
returned to the Wildlands, to this house, he reverted to treating
her like a mere employee.

It was ridiculous.

And insulting.

To be sure, she knew more about this male
than anyone else in the world did. Including his own mother. But he
only revealed that true self when they were a thousand miles
apart.

Enough was enough.

“Will you say goodbye to your mother for me?”
she asked coolly.

His nostrils flared and those honey eyes
turned molten gold. “What about me, Molly?” he demanded, the air
prickling with the heat of his cat. “Were you going to say goodbye
to me? Or was that what the fucking letter was about?”

She was done with this conversation, this
back and forth. She had made her decision. Hell, should’ve made it
a long time ago. She tightened her hold on her suitcases, and,
slapping an expression of determination on her face, she swept past
his rigid form.

“Goodbye, Garrick.”

Garrick
felt feral as his puma slashed through moonlit grass and darted
around fragrant cypress, hissing at anything that had the
misfortune to cross his path. Flora, fauna, and if it had a
heartbeat—
so
long, sucker
. He
couldn’t believe Molly had just walked out.

On his mother.

On…him.

He snarled at a lone squirrel as he ran past,
even bared his teeth and licked his chops, though he despised the
taste of small game. The thing froze, then turned bushy tail and
fled.

A new job.

Fuck. If she was going to leave him, didn’t
he have the right to know what kind of job it was? Why she wanted
it? Who had offered it to her?

And if it had anything to do with a male?

The thought had his blood surging hot and
fast through his veins. Growling, he picked up speed, zipping from
tree to tree. Only when he heard the high-pitched and very
pissed-off cry of a fellow puma did he stop short. Breathing heavy,
his puma’s sides heaving, he realized he’d startled off the prey of
the massive male puma who’d obviously been on the hunt. And not
just any male. He cursed inwardly and shifted into his human form.
The other puma shifted as well.

“Garrick?”

Backlit by the moon, the tall, blond Suit
stared at him, confused and more than a little irritated. “What the
hell are you doing here? I thought you were finishing the contract
for the safe house.”

“It fell through.” Garrick’s gaze lifted and
connected with that of Raphael, his superior and mentor. “I have
another space in mind, but I had something to deal with here
first.”

The irritation in the male’s gold eyes waned.
“Your mother?”

“No,” Garrick said quickly as a sudden breeze
off the bayou moved over him, cooling his hot skin and his hotter
blood. “She’s well. It’s her damn caretaker who’s got my fur
ruffled and my fangs out.”

“Sweet Molly?” Raphael said, his eyes
widening with disbelief. “She’s too nice for such frustration.
Although,” he amended with a wicked grin, “with that perfect face
and lush body, there is a line of Pantera males who wouldn’t mind
her ruffling their fur or coaxing their fangs out.”

The instant explosion inside Garrick’s brain
was rabid and uncontrolled. He rushed at the male, and in seconds
had his back against a tree trunk. “Is that right?” he snarled, his
pulse slamming against the cord of muscle in his neck. “And who
would be at the front of that line?”

Raphael didn’t move. He didn’t look angry or
fearful. Instead, he said in a calm, curious voice, “That’s a
reaction which should be examined, brother. Don’t you agree?”

Nostrils flaring, Garrick backed up. As the
realization of what he’d just done, and to whom, snaked through his
burning blood, he shook his head and growled. “I apologize. I must
be jetlagged.”

Unfolding from the trunk of the cypress,
Raphael moved forward, amusement lighting his eyes. “So where is
she?”

“Medical,” Garrick uttered tersely. “She
quit. After five years.” He sniffed. “Claims to have a new
position.”

“Then she’d be in the dormitory with the
other single Nurturers.”

Garrick’s gut clenched. He’d forgotten that
part of Nurturer housing. “When you referred to the other males who
might be interested in her, were you speaking in general or do you
know—”

“I know nothing, brother,” Raphael assured
him. “But if you’re this jacked up over the idea of such a
thing…well, what does that tell you?”

“That she doesn’t belong there,” Garrick
tossed out.

“Try again.”

His eyes
lifted sharply to connect with Raphael. “That this new job of hers
is a bad idea. She was safe and comfortable where she was. She was
happy…” He broke off.
Happy
?
Shit, clearly not.
Because if she had been, she’d have stayed. And wouldn’t
have looked at him like that in the hall before she’d walked out.
Like he was her jailer. Like she wanted nothing to do with him
anymore.

He swallowed thickly.

Like she wanted something else. Or someone
else.

Without even a grunt of farewell to his
mentor, Garrick shifted back into his puma form and took off into
the trees. He would fix this. Offer her more money, more challenges
to her Nurturer nature, whatever she required. Anything to get her
back home where she belonged.

Then he could return to his work, to where he
belonged, with peace of mind once again.

Molly was given her old rooms at the back of
the dormitory.

She didn’t have a lot of space. A small
bedroom, a living room and bathroom. Still, they were hers. With no
aggravating male thinking he could stroll in and out of her life
whenever he felt the urge.

After unpacking her belongings, she’d headed
to the communal storage shed to gather lights and holly, as well as
the small box of decorations she’d left there after the death of
her parents.

Once back in her rooms, she’d set about
creating a Noël atmosphere, all the while forcing her heart and her
mind to accept what was. Yes, she was back to where she’d started.
Yes, her spirit was bruised. And yes, it felt as if she’d wasted
the last five years of her life.

But she’d be damned if she was going to allow
her heavy heart to ruin these last precious days of a holiday she
adored more than any other.

Bayou Noël was going to belong to her
now.

At last, satisfied that she’d replaced the
institutional boredom of her space with a festive cheer, Molly
moved to the window that overlooked the bayou, remembering the last
Noël she’d shared with her parents. A smile touched her lips.

She’d tried to pretend she was too old to be
excited by all the presents that had been neatly and beautifully
wrapped and stacked both around the fireplace and inside their
stockings. But she’d been secretly thrilled when her father had
refused to listen to her protests, and had swung her into his arms
so she could place the angel goddess on top of the mantel.

That’s what she missed. What she wanted.

The laughter. The love. The sheer comfort of
family.

A family of her own again.

She wiped away a tear. Dammit. Maybe she’d
make a stocking for herself this year. And some hot chocolate with
extra marshmallows.

This was her place. Her new start.

Repeating the words in an attempt to convince
herself that she hadn’t made a terrible mistake by walking out of
that house earlier, Molly abruptly stiffened as she caught the
familiar scent of an approaching cat.

Garrick.

Shit
. Pulse
pounding, she moved forward, wishing she’d locked her door. But she
was too late, as the angry male simply barged into her rooms, his
aggression filling the space with prickles of heat.

Glancing around, his brows slammed together
as his gaze took in the pictures and personal items that had
already been set around the room, as well as the Noël
decorations.

His clever mind wouldn’t miss the less than
subtle displays of nesting.

And he wasn’t pleased.

“What is this?” he growled.

“My home.” She wrapped her arms around her
waist, acutely aware that he’d left behind his jacket and tie. With
his shirt unbuttoned to reveal a glimpse of the chiseled muscles of
his chest, and his dark hair ruffled, he’d never looked more
outrageously male. A shiver shook her body as the image of licking
her way over that smooth, caramel skin seared through her mind.

No
.

She was not supposed to be fantasizing about
the annoying puma. She’d spent too many years in that daydream. She
forced herself to meet his burning gaze. “And I don’t recall
inviting you.”

His hands landed on his hips, his eyes
reflecting the twinkling lights. “You had a home.”

“No.” She shook her head, refusing to be
intimidated. “I was an employee who happened to live beneath your
roof.”

He looked shocked at her blunt words. “That’s
bullshit. You know my mother considered you family.”

Molly rolled her eyes. Of course he would try
to use his mother to convince her. God forbid he actually said that
he might think of her as family.

“But I’m not,” she insisted, turning to pace
toward the mantel where she’d placed a photo of her mother and
father. Her father had his arm around her mother’s shoulders and
they were gazing into each other’s eyes with blatant affection.
Loneliness sliced through her heart. “Not in any real way.” With an
effort she turned back to Garrick, willing him to understand.
“Tonight, when you and your mother light your family candle on the
Noël tree, I’ll be alone.” Her lips twisted into a sad smile. “Next
year, I want to light a candle with someone.”

He prowled forward, his presence seeming to
shrink the already small room. “Don’t do this, Molly. We’ve shared
five years together.”

“Through letters,” she snapped, ignoring the
magic of their almost daily correspondence. She might have
discovered the real Garrick beneath the composed Diplomat, but it
wasn’t enough. She wanted a flesh and blood lover who would share
her life. The good, the bad. The ups and downs. To hold her during
the night and stand at her side during the day. “While you were
thousands of miles away.”

His eyes softened, and he reached out to
lightly brush a finger over her cheek, his touch agonizingly
gentle. “And yet I never felt closer to anyone in my life.”

Oh, his words…his gaze… Pleasure seared
through her, her cat surging toward the touch of the male she
considered her mate.

It was the logical side of her brain,
however, that was currently in charge. With a deliberate motion,
she brushed his hand away.

“The distance was safe. But as soon as you
came home, you treated me like a stranger. You put up barriers
between us.”

His expression became guarded. “That’s not
true.”

“No?” Her voice revealed her pent-up pain.
“How many times did I wait at the door for you to arrive, only to
be treated with an aloof politeness when you finally made your rare
appearance? Or how about when I invited you to take an afternoon to
spend alone with me? Every time, you told me that you had too much
work to get away.” She gave a shake of her head, feeling raw as she
exposed just how deeply she’d needed him. “It might have taken me
awhile, but I finally got the message.”