Read Online Midnight Angel by Carly Phillips - Free Book Online Page A

she arrived at Dylan’s house,
that emptiness began to be filled.
    Dylan’s mother had cooked dinner, and the
house smelled delicious, warm and inviting. His sister, Amy, and
her husband, Tom, and their young son, a precocious three-year-old
named Matt, sat in the family room in front of the big-screen
television Dylan had purchased for his mother’s birthday. Typical
males, Dylan and Tom talked football and took turns keeping the
fire stoked and the room warm, while Amy and Matt provided the
sounds of laughter and squabbling. Amy kept busy diving to keep
Matt out of trouble near the hearth and away from an old black Lab
that dozed in the corner and whose tail Matt liked to pull.
    Holly, after being thrown out of the kitchen
for attempting to help, finally settled in beside Dylan, trying
desperately not to like the feeling of being part of this family
too much. But how could she not enjoy and feel welcome when every
so often Dylan would reach out and massage her shoulders or idly
twist her hair around his finger as he talked. His family all
treated her as if she belonged here, as if she and Dylan had never
broken up or been apart.
    But most defining for Holly was that here in
his old home, Dylan’s stardom and fame didn’t exist, making it too
easy for
her
to believe in a future. So much so that
throughout dinner and dessert, she had to keep reminding herself
that she’d succumbed to these fantasies once before and suffered
nothing but heartache as a result.
    By the time Dylan drove her home, she was
stuffed from the good food and overwhelmed by memories and desire.
When he turned and asked if he could come in, saying yes came as
naturally to her as breathing.
    Coming on top of the heavy-duty family
scene, Dylan wanted to tread carefully now. Holly had relaxed in a
way he hadn’t seen since his return, and he didn’t want to lose
that mellow, comfortable mood.
    “That was so nice.” She dropped the keys
onto the shelf in her front hall. “I love your family.”
    “Well, that’s good, because they love you
too.” His gaze darted to hers, wondering if any version of the word
love would put her on edge.
    “Can I get you coffee or something to
drink?”
    He accepted the subject change with a nod.
“A cup of coffee sounds great.”
    “Then make yourself at home.” She smiled and
gestured to the couch in the family room.
    While she headed to make him coffee he
didn’t really need or want, he readied the room for just one of the
surprises he had in store for Holly.
    * * *
    Thanks to a fast-brewing machine that made
four cups of coffee at a time, Holly had coffee ready for herself
and Dylan pretty quickly. She knew he liked his black, so she added
milk and sugar for herself and walked back into her family
room.
    Instead of the bright space she’d left
behind, Dylan had transformed the room. He’d shut off the overhead
lights and turned on a small lamp in the corner along with the
multicolored bulbs on her Christmas tree. From her small CD player,
uplifting holiday music filled the air around them, while Dylan sat
on the couch with a small wrapped box in his hand.
    From across the room, she felt the heat of
his stare branding her much like his heated touch. God, he was
sexy. No doubt every woman who saw a similar pose from the pages of
a magazine dreamed of him staring at her, wanting her, only having
eyes for
her
.
    He was every woman’s fantasy, and for this
short span of time he belonged to her. She was lucky, but she
wasn’t deluded by his fame. She had enough self-respect to believe
that for as long as Dylan was with her, he was lucky too.
    She walked inside and set the cups down on
the table. “I like the atmosphere,” she said softly, grateful for
the thoughtful gesture.
    He grinned. “I did the best with what I
had.” He toyed with the ribbon on the small box, rubbing the satin
back and forth between his fingers, in the same way he’d massaged
certain parts of her body with gentle yet arousing