CHAPTER NINE

Winter

LINUS STARED AT the brightly wrapped package in his hand. Inside was a gold chain with a tiny gold charm shaped like a ribbon. He knew because he’d spent an afternoon debating whether he should buy the bloody thing. A week later, he still wasn’t sure.

“You’re wasting your time, Linus, old man.”

Linus stashed the box in his jacket pocket just before his brother, Thomas, clapped him on the shoulder. The normally staid executive was wearing the most garish Christmas sweater known to man and was munching on a Christmas cookie.

“Christmas Eve was last night,” he said. “You’re going to have to wait a whole three hundred and sixty-five days if you want to catch Santa.”

Linus forced a smile. “Figured it was worth a try. Seeing as how you all have a special Christmas connection. Kids asleep?”

“Just about. Maddie crashed before I finished reading her first bedtime story. Rosalind’s tucking in Noel. Who’s the present for?”

“What present?”

“The one you just hid in your pocket,” Thomas replied.

“Oh, that present. It’s nothing. Just something I bought for a friend.”

His brother took a bite of cookie. “This friend wouldn’t be your pet-sitting neighbor, by any chance?”

“Estate manager.” The correction was automatic. Linus swore his siblings purposely used the wrong title to bother him. Turning from the fireplace—and his brother—he headed to the other side of the living room, where Thomas had placed the bar.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Thomas replied. “Hardly a surprise. She’s the only person you socialize with outside of family. Why all the fuss?”

“Because I haven’t decided if I want to give it to her,” Linus replied. “Are you out of Scotch?”

“Bottom shelf, and why not?”

For a host of reasons, starting with whether Stella would consider the gift too extravagant—or worse, too sentimental. So uncertain was he that he’d even bought a backup present.

“I’m not sure, is all. We didn’t talk about exchanging gifts. I don’t want to put her on the spot.”

In the past, if he was dating someone at Christmastime, he bought her something sparkly. But Stella wasn’t the “something sparkly” type. Nor were they dating. They were “without expectations.”

Stella had been right about one thing. When they returned from the country, things didn’t change. They continued much as they had before, except that Linus slept over once or twice a week. She didn’t ask where their relationship was going or talk about the future. She didn’t ask him to share anything but her bed. If the two of them stopped sleeping together tomorrow, they would probably carry on. It was the perfect no-guilt affair. And yet, for the past six weeks, he’d been growing more and more unsettled.

He poured two glasses and handed one to Thomas. “The ice is melted. You’ll have to drink it neat.”

“I didn’t realize I was drinking,” he replied.

“I don’t feel like drinking alone.” Linus let the alcohol slide down his throat, savoring its warm burn. “That’s how good Scotch should taste. Merry Christmas,” he said.

“Merry Christmas.” Thomas mirrored his action before setting the glass down on the bar. “You’ve been spending a lot of time with your neighbor these days.”

“So?”

“So nothing. Glad to see you’re getting out again after that whole Victoria nightmare. Susan said the woman seems very nice.”

“Yeah, she’s fantastic,” Linus replied. The warmth inside him spread up and out, causing him to break out in a smile. “I’ve never met anyone like her.”

Thomas gave him a long look.

“It’s not what you think. We’re friends. Good friends.” He washed the words down with another swallow.

His brother continued to look at him, skepticism evident, so Linus added, “Lady’s choice. She wants to keep things casual.”

“Ah. Suddenly the present debate makes sense. Never thought I’d see the day when you were more serious than the woman.”

“I’m not serious, either,” Linus replied. “It’s a mutual arrangement.”

“Is that why you didn’t bring her to Christmas? Whatever your status, I’d hate to think she’s alone for the holidays.”

“She’s not. Her parents are visiting from Boston.”

Stella had been high hover about the visit all week. Everything had to be perfect. The gifts, the decorations, the menu. One thing not on the list was her neighbor-slash-lover. She’d insisted he spend the holiday with his family like he always did.

Because she didn’t want him feeling obligated, he told himself.

Problem was, he really wanted to see her. It’d been days since they’d spent time together, and he missed her smile.

“I’m debating stopping by on my way home to say merry Christmas. I don’t want to intrude. On the other hand, it’s the holiday.”

Listen to him. He sounded like a lovesick idiot. Was this what it was like for the women he’d dated? This continual vacillating of uncertainty? Clearly, he owed them all apologies.

“Are you sure this is casual, Linus?” Thomas asked. “Because you’re not acting like you normally do.”

Because Linus didn’t feel like he normally did. He didn’t want to put a name to the emotions squeezing his chest because then he’d be in real trouble, but his refusal didn’t stop the sensation. “Positive. She’s out of here in six months. Plans to go back and take the international consulting world by storm.”

“Plans can change,” his brother replied. “Look at me. Couple years ago I was ready to leave the company for good, remember?”

“Different situation.” Thomas had been trying to save his marriage. Stella’s goals were about winning her father’s pride. “Besides, there’s no reason for her plans to change. We’re simply having fun in the moment. If anything, it’s refreshing to be on the same page with a woman. Much less stress.”

“Except for the Christmas gift,” Thomas said.

“Except for the Christmas gift.” Having finished his drink, he debated pouring a second. Two Scotches felt too much like wallowing in alcohol.

“What did you get her?”

“A reminder of a very special night we shared, and before you say a word, get your mind out of the gutter. I’m referring to the tree in Avebury.”

“I have zero idea what you’re talking about, but I say go for it. If I’ve learned anything from being married, it’s that women appreciate thoughtful gestures. If you bought something that has meaning, she’ll like it.” He gave Linus another look, this one using his glass to mask a grin. “Keeping it casual and fun, eh?”

Linus started to rethink that second Scotch.

Stella’s sister’s face filled half the divided computer screen. She wore a scrub top and a white lab coat.

“I wish I could be there with all of you,” she said. “Cafeteria turkey is not the same as Mom’s.”

“We miss you, too, honey,” Kevin Russo said, “but we understand. There’ll be plenty of time for you to get away one you’re established.”

“In the meantime, I’ll overnight you a container of stuffing as soon as we get back to Boston,” Rose Russo added.

“What about me?” Her brother’s face filled the other half of the screen. “I like your stuffing, too.”

“I’ll send you both stuffing. And apple pie.”

Stella watched the conversation from the ottoman behind her parents. Toffee sat on her lap, the Angora doing her best to mark Stella’s skirt with fur. Behind her, Agnes’s china was neatly stacked on the dining room table, next to her silverware and glasses. They’d washed everything by hand since her mother was uncomfortable washing borrowed dishes in the dishwasher.

The Russo family video chat had become a tradition as neither Joe nor Camilla could spare time from work to travel. Both her parents took their continued absences in stride. They liked being able to tell people their oh-so-successful children were too important to spare.

This was the year she was supposed to be too important to spare as well.

“How’s London?” Camilla was asking.

“Very nice,” her mother replied. “Stella’s been a wonderful tour guide.”

“Guess when your boss is a cat, it’s easy to get time off, hey, sis? Just throw a little extra food in the bowl and you’re good to go?”

“Catnip,” Stella replied. Her smile was tight, but Joe wouldn’t notice. “Works every time.”

“I thought maybe you had to bring her everywhere like those crazy cat ladies,” Camilla said.

“I’m surprised she doesn’t,” her father said. “You should see the routine this cat has. Food. Brushing. She lives like a queen.”

“Guess you should have gone to grooming school instead of studying finance, sis.”

“You know, I do more than pet sit,” Stella replied. Why did everyone treat her job like it was a joke? “I manage the estate. I’ll have you know this cat has a sizable investment portfolio—”

“Which an outside investment company handles,” her father cut in.

Yes, but Stella worked closely with them.

Working wasn’t the same as doing, her father had been saying all weekend. He’d been saying a lot of things, like how she shouldn’t have spent the money on plane tickets, about how she should push for more substantial work. How she shouldn’t have signed a one-year agreement. Same script she’d been listening to—and would continue hearing until she returned to Mitchum, Baker.

She would return, though, and next Christmas, she’d be video calling home, too.

“Hey! I almost forgot! Guess who is presenting at the Association of Trial Lawyers midwinter meeting?”

Rose clapped her hands. “Joseph, that’s wonderful! Congratulations. Where is the meeting?”

“Miami.”

“No way! That’s where I’m presenting my paper on odontoid synchondrosis fractures in toddlers. Wouldn’t it be a riot if we were there at the same time?”

“You’re presenting a paper, too?” Kevin said. “I told you all that work would pay off.”

Stella edged away from the conversation. They would be talking about papers and Florida for a while, so no one would notice if she wasn’t participating. She looked around her living room. There was a tree in the center, lit with tiny white lights and plastic decorations. Stella thought it odd until she realized Agnes must had purchased decorations with Toffee in mind. She found a box of vintage decorations tucked away in the attic along with a note signed by Larry and Vivien. Every item was another piece in the Dame Agnes Moreland story.

Stella hadn’t told anyone, but she’d begun writing Agnes’s story using the information in Agnes’s letters and journals. Her parents didn’t understand the fascination. Every time she tried to tell them, her father would wave off the topic. And Linus...

Without meaning to, she sighed. Linus would encourage her. Like he always did. There was no reason not to tell him. No reason to tell him, either. They didn’t have to share everything because they shared a bed.

The best part of her week, the nights with Linus. Took all her restraint not to invite him to stay every night. She was determined to keep her promise and keep things between them casual. The guilt over Victoria was still there; Stella saw it in the shadow that crossed his face whenever he didn’t think she was looking. He feared hurting her, and so she worked extra hard to make sure he knew that wouldn’t happen. That she didn’t expect anything from him beyond what they had.

The job would be a lot easier if she didn’t miss him desperately on the nights he wasn’t here. All she’d wanted these past couple days was to see his smile over morning coffee.

Sometimes, when they were having breakfast, Stella would look across the table at him, and her chest would feel like it was about to explode with fullness. So much of her life had been spent working toward a goal, on chasing some form of better or more that she could never quite reach. In those moments, though, when she looked at Linus, she didn’t need to chase anything. The feeling was addictive and terrifying.

That’s why she said no to spending Christmas together. It was clear to her that she was getting a little too attached to Linus. To see him smiling at her from across a family dinner table... God knew what effect that would have on her.

In the other room, she could hear the video chat wrapping up. Not wanting to be rude, she pasted on a smile and went back to say merry Christmas.

“Well, this makes a very merry Christmas indeed,” her father said upon ending the call. “Always enjoy hearing the kids’ good news. I can’t wait to tell Donny. Maybe now he’ll stop yapping about Dougie’s pediatrics practice.”

“Janice will be beside herself,” Rose added. “Her daughter has always had a crush on Joe.”

“Joe’s always had a crush on Joe.”

“Did you say something, Stella?”

“No, Mom.”

“Those two are really making a mark in this world. I couldn’t be prouder. You know what it is? It’s because they’re focused. They know what they want, and they don’t stop until they’ve achieved it. They don’t let a little adversity slow them down.”

“No, they don’t,” Stella said. She added her father’s speech to the list of things she’d heard before. Best to simply agree. Anything less would sound defensive, and as her parents were quick to point out, praising her older siblings didn’t mean they were slighting her. Except they were.

“Are you expecting someone?” her mother asked when the doorbell rang.

“Not really.” Hoping, but not expecting. She could kick herself for the way her pulse quickened. Couldn’t she get through a week without needing to see the man?

She could give herself a double kick for the butterflies taking flight in her stomach when she looked through the peephole.

She flung open the door. “Merry Christmas,” he greeted.

“Mer—” Before she could finish, he had pulled her into the hall and was kissing her. He tasted like fresh air and peppermint. Needing more, she pressed herself against him, her leg hooking around his in a quest to get closer. They were putting on an indecent show, but she didn’t care.

“Merry Christmas yourself,” she whispered when they finally parted. “Do you greet everyone who answers their door like that?”

He brushed the hair from her cheek. “Only the really gorgeous ones,” he replied. “Can be a bit awkward if their spouse is home.”

“Or their parents,” she said, untangling herself. Her body protested at losing his warmth. “They’re going to wonder what I’m doing outside. This is a very nice surprise. I wasn’t expecting you to come by tonight.”

“I...” There was that shadow again. The concern she wanted more. “I wanted to wish you a happy Christmas. Doesn’t pack quite the same result on December 26.”

“No, it does not.” It was a struggle not to grab him by the lapels and start kissing again. Stella had no idea how badly she’d missed him—that is, she knew she’d missed him a lot, but she’d had no idea how much a lot really was. It was like a switch inside her had been turned off and his arrival turned it back on.

Not good. Not good at all. She was going to have to do something about her attachment.

“Did you want to come in?” she asked, before quickly adding, “You don’t have to stay long. I know it’s late, but my parents—well, my mother, really—will want to know who rang the doorbell, so it might help if you stuck your head in and said hello. Nothing big. I’m not expecting you to stay.” The last thing she wanted was for him to feel forced into a “meet the parents” scenario.

“Because it’s late,” he said.

“Exactly, and I’m sure you’re tired after chasing your niece around all day.”

“Not so tired that I can’t step inside for a moment.”

“Really?” Could she sound any more eager? “I mean, great.”

The two of them stepped inside to discover her parents standing in the center of the living room. Her mother was holding Toffee. Her father was frowning.

“Everything all right, Stella?” he asked.

When did time revert back to high school? Her parents were staring at her like she’d missed curfew, and her heart was racing like a girl on her first date.

Stella took a deep breath. “Everything is fine. This is my...” She stumbled for the right word. “Neighbor, Linus Collier. He stopped by to say merry Christmas. Linus, these are my parents, Kevin and Rose Russo.”

Linus had never met a woman’s parents before. Family introductions carried implications. They were a benchmark that implied you were no longer dating, but rather a couple. He and Stella were neither, and yet, he had to wipe his palm on his pants before shaking Stella’s father’s hand.

Kevin Russo was tall and barrel-chested, with a thick head of silver hair. He had the calloused handshake of a man who worked hard and the cashmere sweater of one who was reaping the benefits. His wife, Rose, looked like an older version of Stella, only with salt-and-pepper hair.

“Merry Christmas,” she greeted. “It’s nice to meet you. Stella didn’t tell us she was friendly with her neighbor.”

He didn’t even warrant a mention. Linus tried not to let his disappointment show. “Well, we are the only two people on the floor.”

“Linus and I are running partners,” Stella explained. “That’s how I know my way around London. He’s been running me all over the city.”

“Bit of a rabbit, she is. I’ve taken more than a few seconds off my time keeping up.”

“Liar,” Stella said. “I’m the one working to keep up with him.”

They took seats in the living room, Stella’s father taking the large chair by the tree. Linus drank in Stella’s appearance. She looked magnificent tonight in a black turtleneck and watch plaid skirt. The hem was short enough he could see a glimpse of thigh when she crossed her legs.

“My children are all athletes,” Kevin was saying. “Our eldest, Camilla, ran track in college. The four-forty.”

“Four hundred meters,” Stella supplied.

“Impressive. Good for her.” Stella had already told him, along with the fact that she—unlike her sister—didn’t run in college.

Meanwhile, Stella caught him checking out her thighs and winked. He wondered what her father would say if he knew that while he was singing his eldest daughter’s praises, Linus was thinking about running his hands along the inside of the man’s youngest daughter’s legs.

“Are you enjoying your trip to London?” he asked. “I’m guessing Stella has shown you all the highlights.”

“Couldn’t ask for a better tour guide,” Rose replied. No surprise there. Stella had spent the week before their arrival staying awake late into the night, searching for tourist tips. “Of course, Kevin and I have been to London several times, but we liked getting her perspective. It’s been nice seeing how she’s getting along after... I mean, over here.”

“From the looks of things, I’d say she’d doing quite well,” Linus said. “At least she seems put together when I see her getting the mail. Are you failing at anything we don’t know about?”

“If I am, my lips are sealed.” She grinned, and damned if his insides didn’t get turned around. He had to cross his legs to keep his arousal at bay.

“Has Stella told you about Dame Agnes’s vast collection of memorabilia? The woman was quite a character.”

“We guessed that when she left all the money to that one.” Rose tipped her head toward Toffee, who was sniffing the Christmas tree branches.

“Creative types. They don’t think like the rest of us, do they?” Kevin said. “I always told my kids, make sure you go into something practical like law or medicine.”

“Or business,” Linus interjected.

“Or business. I never met anyone who made money majoring in history or the arts.”

“What do you do for a living, Mr. Collier?” Rose asked.

Linus wanted to tell her a job that involved history or the arts, especially after the way Stella looked down at her hands at her father’s comment, but he didn’t want to cause an argument. “I’m a chemist.”

“See? Science. A good practical major. Camilla, that’s Stella’s sister, majored in biology. She’s a neurosurgeon now.”

He went on for several minutes about Stella’s siblings and their careers. Good, practical careers. Linus nodded and showed the appropriate appreciation, all the while waiting for the man to get to his youngest.

Across the way he could see Stella folding in on herself, the weight of her father’s obliviousness bearing down on her. Her mother was no better. Her attention to her daughter focused on Stella playing the proper hostess. Twice she interrupted to suggest Stella get him coffee or a cocktail.

He wasn’t sure he liked the Russos. He didn’t care how big the chip on Kevin Russo’s shoulder over dropping out of school was.

“Sounds as though you’ve raised three successful children,” he said.

“That’s always been my goal,” Kevin told him. “To make sure my kids had the chance to accomplish everything I never had the chance to do. Of course,” Kevin continued, “Stella’s real career is in New York. Corporate finance. She won’t be doing this job forever. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

Stella’s smile looked strained as she nodded. At least he didn’t call her a pet sitter. He might have been tempted to consider Russo’s words a warning about getting serious with his daughter, but he doubted the man thought him a threat. He was too secure in his knowledge that Stella would be returning to New York. To “have the chance” to do everything he hadn’t accomplished.

And why shouldn’t he be confident? Stella bloody flew them here to impress them.

Meanwhile the man was busy bragging about everyone but her. The man had a beautiful, smart, amazing daughter sitting five feet away, and he couldn’t see her. Took all of Linus’s willpower not to strangle Kevin Russo’s thick neck. Or, at the very least, to tell him to take his aspirations and stuff them.

“Toffee, no!” Stella clapped her hands, startling everyone in the room. She was answered by an annoyed-sounding meow and the tinkling of glass.

“Sorry,” she said. “Toffee’s obsessed with one of the bird ornaments on the tree. I caught her trying to climb the branches the other day.”

It was the break in the conversation he needed. Linus stood up. “On that note, I think I’ll say good-night.”

“Do you have to go?” Stella asked.

He both loved and hated the disappointment in her voice. “I’m afraid so. Maddie ran me ragged. My niece,” he added for her parents’ benefit. “It was a pleasure meeting you both.”

Stella walked him to the door. When they were far enough from the living room, she slipped in between him and the door. “Are you too tired for a visitor later?” she asked. “I was hoping to bring by a little Christmas present.”

God, but he loved when her voice turned husky. He dropped his gaze to her lips. “I could be persuaded to stay awake for a bit.”

“Good. I’ll be by as soon as I can.”

As she spoke, she ran her finger down his stomach to his belt and crooked a finger into his waistband. Linus sucked in his breath, his head suddenly filled with what he might do under his Christmas tree.

“I’ll leave the door unlocked,” he whispered.

Tiny Tim could bless everyone if he wanted; Stella blessed jet lag. It meant she only received a short inquest following Linus’s departure. Her mother wanted to know why she hadn’t mentioned Linus before while her father treated her to another lecture on focus. Finally, they declared themselves exhausted and, after thanking her for a wonderful Christmas dinner, headed to bed.

Stella waited until the light underneath their door disappeared before tiptoeing to the living room in her bare feet. Sneaking out of the apartment made her feel like a teenager, the illicitness adding an extra layer of excitement. She paused long enough to grab a small box from beneath the tree and then slipped out the door.

Just as Linus had promised, the door was unlocked. Linus’s apartment was a mirror image of hers, only decorated with a more masculine taste. She stepped inside to find the apartment dark, except for the Christmas tree. The evergreen bathed the grays and blacks in red light. A fire crackled in the gas fireplace.

“Linus?”

“Merry Christmas, love.”

His voice wrapped around her like a warm caress. Turning around, she saw him in the easy chair by the fire, his clothes shed in favor of his paisley robe. His bare chest looked pink by the light. Her fingers itched to comb through the exposed hair.

“Brought you something to unwrap,” she said, holding up the package in her hand.

“Lucky me. I love unwrapping things.”

“What a coincidence. So do I.” Smiling, she swayed toward him, and climbed on the chair, one knee at a time. Reaching down, she gave the belt of the robe a tug. The silk half knot fell loose easily. “See?”

“I thought I was supposed to be doing the unwrapping?” Linus’s voice was thick and heavy with promise. Stella melted a little more. Her breathing quickened as Linus slipped his hands beneath her skirt and brushed her skin. Slowly, lightly, his fingers skimmed upward. When he reached the apex, his eyes widened.

“Silly me,” Stella said, leaning forward. “Looks like I forgot the wrapping paper.”

They didn’t talk after that.