Special Delivery Winter - Aria Grace Page 0,33

tangle of messy locks. He stirred.

“Something smells good.” He opened one eye and studied me. “Hi.”

“Hello. Feeling better?” I asked.

“Much.”

Those dark blue eyes studied me and I shivered, wondering what he was thinking. Stop. He’s my employer’s son.

3. David

Something tickled my nose, and I sneezed. It was warm… and safe, and I snuggled beneath it. It was infused with an enticing aroma that added to the sense of security. There was a faint moaning in the distance which I took to be the wind, not the roaring I’d experienced when I’d been in the middle of the blizzard.

Blizzard! I shot up and felt around me in the darkness. I was in a bed but whose? And was I dead? Had I departed the world in the snow storm and this was the afterlife? My attention was drawn to a soft tapping, and I opened my mouth but made no sound.

“David?” How did the unseen person know who I was? But in the movies I’d watched about the hereafter, the supreme being had a list of new arrivals’ names, so it made sense.

“Yes?”

“May I come in.”

What choice did I have? “Okay.” Light slid in and illuminated a simple bedroom and what appeared to be a living area behind the tall figure that leaned on the doorframe.

“Just checking you’re doing okay.”

The fragrance of something yummy drifted in with the new arrival. Him or was it food? Perhaps both. “Where am I?”

“On your parents’ farm.”

Not dead. “Where are they? Has something happened to them?” I stumbled out of bed and headed toward the door, frantic they’d been hurt during the storm. But I was unsteady on my feet and the man—an alpha—caught me.

His warm breath on my cheek had me grasping the fact that I was alone in a stranger’s home lacking in strength. I should leave, though his presence wasn’t threatening.

“Hey, not so fast.” Strong arms held me upright. I’m Ian, and I work for your mom and dad. You made it here last night but with the bad weather, your parents agreed they’d collect you this morning.”

Memories trickled back of eggs, eating them or being fed, I couldn’t recall. My hand brushed over my thigh, close to his crotch. I glanced down and studied what I was wearing. Dark blue sweat shirt and my underwear. “How did I….?”

“Your clothes were drenched. I had to get them off you. You helped, sort of.”

Had the guy seen me naked. Peeked under my underwear? Not the usual way I introduced myself. Embarrassing!

“Are you hungry?”

It hadn’t occurred to me to want food though that aroma was divine, but when he spoke, it hit me I was ravenous. “Yes.” He handed me my jeans which were warm and toasty, and I sat at the small table while Ian made coffee. Nothing was ever as good as that first cup in the morning and his brew was strong, sending adrenaline pulsing through my veins.

Now I was properly awake, questions churned in my head. “How did I get here, Ian? Did you find me?” There was no way I could forget the wind biting at my cheeks as it searched for gaps in my clothes and tried to trip me over.

“You made it to my door.”

The sliver of light shining on my face. I remembered that. “Thank you. My parents must have been freaking out.”

“They were anxious as they’d been trying to call you and when they discovered the airport had closed, thought you might have been stuck there. They were extremely relieved to discover you were safe.”

While I listened to his engaging voice, my gaze was fixed on his hands mixing, pouring and measuring, and an image of those hands on me popped unannounced into my head. “How did I miss the farm? It’s not as though this road is crowded with houses and traffic.”

“You made a wrong turn at the T-junction. Easy to do but especially so when you’re blinded by snow.”

As Ian flipped pancakes, I flicked my eyes about the cabin. Small, tidy and clean. And judging by the delicious smell wafting from the stove, a competent cook. There was a small decorated Christmas tree in the corner with beautifully wrapped presents underneath.

And then it hit me. “Oh, it’s Christmas Day.”

“Merry Christmas.”

“And to you. Have I ruined your morning?” I jerked my head toward the presents. “Are you expecting family or going somewhere? I’m sorry.”

“No. They can’t make it,” he responded with a resigned air. “You’re not the only one whose plans were tipped on