SATURDAY AFTERNOON, Thad stood at the window in the study behind his desk and stared out at south Central Park. In the distance he could see Wollman Rink, and dots of red and blue skating around on it. Then there was Heckscher Playground, the ball diamonds covered in tarps and snow now. And the octagonal building housing the historic carousel from the earlier 1900s. Back when he’d been younger, Thad had spent many a long hour up here, watching all the other children play while he was stuck inside studying because his doctors had deemed him too ill to go out.
His mind returned to little Ricky Lynch in the PICU. How small and fragile and vulnerable he’d looked. Thad’s chest felt oddly hollow and cold. He remembered all too well having those feelings himself when he’d been in the hospital for the umpteenth time, and he never wanted to feel that vulnerable again.
He forced himself to focus on something else. The plans for the carnival, the things he needed to do for that. What he needed to talk to Emma about when she arrived here in a few minutes.
Emma.
With his past and his trust issues, Thad didn’t do long-term relationships. He had needs, like everyone else. And those needs for intimacy were taken care of through short, carefully arranged affairs where both parties knew the rules and no deep emotions were involved. Afterward, they parted ways, both satisfied physically and with no ties or bad feelings emotionally. Not exactly fairy tale stuff, but it worked for him.
Or it had, until Emma arrived.
It was still hard to wrap his brain around their kiss. If it wasn’t for the fact that his fingers still tingled with awareness from where he’d tangled them in her hair, or how when he licked his lips he swore he still tasted her there, he’d have denied it ever happened.
Most unsettling, though, had been the way she’d looked at him afterward. Like she’d seen him for the first time. Really seen him. And understood him. It was scary, being revealed like that, and Thad just didn’t know what to do about it.
Part of him felt like maybe it was more about his return to the PICU and the emotions that always ran high when sick children were involved. He hadn’t been there in years, doing his best to sequester the painful past away. But having Emma there with him today seemed to have widened fractures in the already-crumbling stone encasing his heart. Trouble was, he wasn’t sure how to close the newly developed crack in his otherwise impenetrable armor.
With a sigh, he abandoned the window and walked over to sit in front of the crackling fire in the fireplace instead. Thad pulled up the app on his phone to check his blood sugar again, thinking perhaps his strange maudlin mood might have something to do with that. Ever since the episode in his kitchen, his blood sugar had fluctuated a lot and the exhaustion drove him nuts. He had things to do. Procedures to perfect. He couldn’t sleep all day. For a man who’d always been up early and awake until the wee hours at night, it was unacceptable. In the past, once he’d gotten his insulin and eating schedule back on track things regulated quickly, but so far his diabetes was kicking his butt. Maybe he was getting old. Thirty-six was hardly ancient, but perhaps his underlying health condition was taking its toll.
In his mind his father’s voice reverberated from beyond the grave.
Nothing but a sickly waste of space. Weakling. Good for nothing.
Thad scrubbed a hand over his face and shoved those hurtful memories aside. Ever. The awful man had died of a heart attack in South America five years ago, running away from his crimes to the end. He’d managed to avoid arrest, but hopefully had been punished just the same. Never putting down roots, always looking over his shoulder. Regardless, the man was no longer allowed to take up precious real estate in Thad’s mind, though when he was tired or stressed, it was easier said than done.
In the corner of the study sat several large boxes marked Christmas Decorations on the sides in his mother’s handwriting. His heart twisted again. He’d asked Everett to bring them down from the attic, thinking perhaps they could use something in there for the carnival, but it seemed rather silly now.
“Sir,” his butler said from the doorway, as if conjured from Thad’s thoughts. “Ms. Trudeau is here to see you.”
“Thanks,” Thad said, sighing. She’d texted him earlier that she had the day off and suggested they meet about the carnival plans. “Send her in.”
Emma entered a few moments later, her braids loose once more as she walked across the huge Persian rug to sit in the chair opposite Thad’s. Today she wore a pair of figure-hugging jeans that drew his gaze like a magnet to the sway of her hips. He looked back at the fire, forcing his attention from her pink lips and the memory of how soft and sweet they’d felt beneath his.
God, what’s wrong with me?
“So,” she said, clasping her hands atop the folder in her lap and breaking him out of his inappropriate erotic thoughts. “After meeting with Ricky on Wednesday, I think we need to take into account his wishes for the carnival.”
Thad shifted in his seat slightly. “We are not having pony rides. The poop alone would be too much to deal with.”
“No. Not ponies. I agree.” She chuckled and shook her head. “Don’t want to go there. But we need to nail down a location soon, so I can let the vendors know the space they’ll have to work with. Also, seeing how fragile Ricky is only confirms for me that we need to keep it indoors and smaller, so these sick kids won’t have issues getting around. Has your foundation had any luck securing a place?”
“Not yet. They contacted several places, but so far nothing’s a done deal,” he said, glad for a topic that didn’t involve anything related to kissing. He told her about several spots around the city the Markson Foundation was looking at for the carnival and Emma took notes accordingly. Then awkward silence fell as he ran out of things to say.
She nodded and closed her folder, then tucked some braids behind her ear. Thad’s fingertips itched, remembering how soft they’d felt against his skin. He had the crazy urge to slide his hands through them again, draw her near and kiss her until they were both breathless. Instead, he clenched his fists at his sides on the leather seat.
“How’ve you been feeling?” she asked at last, fiddling with the small sparkling stud earring in her earlobe. “After what happened in your kitchen the other night. Are you back on your schedule again? I’d hate to see you have another attack like that again.”
He imagined running his tongue along that sensitive spot where her neck met her ear, feeling her shiver beneath him, moaning his name and...
Oh God. Stop thinking about that.
His throat constricted, making speech difficult. “I’m fine,” Thad managed to squeak out, several octaves higher than usual. Restless and shaken by his emotional response to a woman he’d known such a short time, he pushed to his feet and paced the room. Not to mention the fact that he hated being fawned over. “Stop worrying about me.”
“I’m a nurse. It’s my job to worry about patients,” she said, crossing her arms and forcing her breasts higher beneath her bright red turtleneck like she was presenting them to him as a gift.
Don’t. Do not look at them.
Except now that was all Thad could seem to focus on. “Not that you’re my patient,” she went on quickly. “That would be weird. But I still feel responsible because I was there when it happened, and I care about you...” Her voice trailed off. “Because of the project, I mean.”
I care about you...
There were times in Thad’s past when he would’ve given up everything to hear those words from someone other than Everett. But part of the reason why he’d built such strong barriers around himself was so he didn’t need them. Now, with Emma right here, offering him his innermost secret wish, Thad found himself completely flummoxed.
He turned away fast and stalked back to the window, away from temptation and yearning and the deep, aching, embarrassing need blossoming inside him, his face burning like the sun. He’d survived this long through sheer fractiousness and he couldn’t turn his back on that now, not with Emma threatening all his long-held beliefs about himself and the world and everything he thought he had to be. It was too much, too soon and way too terrifying.
Thad turned back to face her; his tone harsh from desperation. “We’re here to talk about the carnival, so let’s stick to that, please.”
Her dark eyes flashed fire for a second and Thad thought she’d argue with him about his abrupt change in topic. She moved closer and his pulse stumbled. If she touched him again now, all would be lost. He’d crumple like wet paper in her hands and tear apart just as easily. But she didn’t touch him. Just stood a feet away, looking at him like she saw right through his BS and knew he was being a coward instead of facing up to what was happening between them. “Fine. Let’s work.”
After an hour and a half of planning and coordination, they took a break so Thad could check his blood sugar and give himself a small shot of insulin. Once he’d put everything away, he looked up at her from behind his desk while Emma studied the books on his shelves. It was an interesting assortment of everything from nonfiction to mysteries and thrillers to the odd women’s fiction and romance story.
“You must read a lot, huh?” she asked him, eager to steer clear of the tension from before. This could be an interest they shared. “I love books. My mom used to read to me a lot as a kid and it stuck. When I was a teenager and we started reading the same stuff, we used to talk about them after, like our own little book club.” Emma stopped, clearing her throat from the lump of sadness there. “Well, until she died, anyway.”
God, this man made her so nervous. Why? Thad shouldn’t make her heart race or her blood pound in her veins. And yes, they’d kissed back at the hospital, but that had been a mistake. A horrible, inexplicable mistake, completely not what she wanted at all.
Right?
Her uncertainty was even more unsettling. Because maybe, just maybe, if she was honest with herself, she kind of had wanted to kiss Thad Markson. Maybe still wanted to kiss him now, despite him sending off clear don’t-touch-me vibes. There was something so endearing, so intoxicatingly broken in him that called to the healer in her. The fact that he’d let her into his inner world that day in the PICU showed her he wasn’t beyond redemption, no matter what he might try to portray to the others.
No. Emma knew in her heart the real Thad was still in there somewhere, the sad, sick, scared little boy he’d been before the death of his mother and his monster of a father had gotten to him. She wanted to help him find his way back to that boy again, if he’d let her.
But from the way Thad was avoiding the whole subject now, though, it was obviously not the time. He wasn’t comfortable at present and neither was she. Best to focus on the project for now and get on with their planning. They could revisit the kiss and where they wanted things to go later, if they wanted. Time to change the subject. She looked over at the boxes in the corner and grinned. “Are you getting ready to decorate?”
“Huh?” Thad looked up from his laptop and frowned before tracking her gaze to the corner. “Oh, that.” He gave a dismissive wave. “I had Everett bring those down from the attic earlier thinking we might be able to use them at the carnival, but it was a bad idea. He’ll take them back up shortly.”
“Why? Have you looked in them? Maybe there is something we could use.” She got up and went over to peek inside the boxes. There was everything here—a tree, ornaments, garlands, wreaths, everything to make a home festive. Probably not the best choices for their carnival, he was right there, but why not use them anyway here? “I bet this place would look lovely all done up for the holidays. How about if we take a break and put up this stuff here in your office? I’ll help. We could get this all unpacked and up in no time.”
“Oh, I don’t—” Thad started, but Emma already had part of the artificial tree out and on its stand where she started fluffing out the lower branches.
“Come on. It’ll be fun,” she said, grinning over at him behind the desk. And for the first time since their kiss, if felt like her nerves disappeared. “I promise.”
For a moment Thad stared at her, then finally shook his head and joined her, grumbling under his breath about silly traditions and ridiculous extravagance as they got the rest of the tree up. It was bigger than she expected—at least eight feet tall—and moving into the spot he wanted in the corner was awkward, too, forcing them both to work together to avoid being buried under a mass of prickly fake pine.
Finally, with one last shove, Thad straightened, his high cheekbones flushed from the effort. “There. Satisfied?”
The tree stood to one side of the fireplace, a bit crooked, but they’d fix that in time.
“Not yet. But I will be.” She winked at him, then began opening more boxes from the stack, pulling out swags of red, green and gold garlands. “We can use these on the tree and whatever’s left over we can drape across the fireplace mantel. It will look beautiful.”
Thad scowled as he pulled out handfuls of lights and gold stars and glittering berries from yet another box. “This is my private office, not the North Pole. I don’t want anything to be garish or silly.”
“Why not? It’s Christmas. Everything is garish and loud and overblown this time of year. That’s the joy of it.” Thad gave her a look, then started throwing the lights on the tree haphazardly, with big wads of tangles everywhere. “No, no. That’s not right.” She pulled them off, then handed him the cord. “You need to plug them in first to make sure they work. Haven’t you ever decorated a tree before?”
He hesitated for a second. “Not since my mother was alive.”
Damn. Her heart squeezed. She should have connected those dots better. But now that she’d stepped in it, she needed to clean up her mess. Emma cleared her throat and tried again. “Well, then. I think it’s time we started a new tradition ourselves, huh?”
Thad shrugged, then walked over to plug in the lights. They flickered at first, then glowed a warm gold color, twinkling off the silver star and berry ornaments piled on the floor beside them.
“Wow. These are beautiful. Leave them on while we decorate.” Emma strung the lights around the tree. “Did both of your parents work?”
“Only my father. Too much.” He fed her more lights, pointing out empty spots as she worked. “My mother was on the board of several charities in the city, but mainly she stayed home, with me. At least until she got sick.”
His voice trailed off and Emma looked down at him from where she’d climbed the ladder to reach the top of the tree. “That must’ve been so hard for you, losing her support.”
“It was,” he said, moving in behind her at the bottom of the ladder to steady it, essentially caging her in while continuing to feed more string lights to her and making sure she didn’t fall. If Emma didn’t know better, she’d think they’d landed in one of those cheesy TV holiday movies where she falls and ends up his arms, sharing a first kiss under the mistletoe.
Or another kiss. Because she and Thad had already kissed behind a Christmas tree.
And it had been nice. More than nice. Sweet and warm and seductive and...
“Here.” He handed her the rest of the lights in the bundle. “I’ll grab another from the box.”
Emma turned back toward the tree, feeling a bit shaky. This was no movie and Thad Markson was not her romantic hero, even if he did have that whole broody, gorgeous grump thing going for him.
Do not go there. Emma repeated to herself, like maybe it would stick. This is for Ricky. Not you. Don’t screw up your chance at a promotion over a man. People leave. People die. Be responsible.
The ladder wobbled a bit as Thad climbed up behind her and his weight settled on the wood. “These are multicolored.” He held out another string of lights to her, his body so close to hers now she could feel the heat of him through her clothes and smell his woodsy, clean aftershave. “Not ideal since they don’t match the others, but they’re all that’s left in the box.”
“Uh...” Emma made the mistake of looking back at him over her shoulder and, oh, boy. His face was right there, near enough to kiss him again, if she wanted. And man, did she want. Except no. They weren’t doing that again. Not now. Maybe not ever. To distract herself from the need now churning through her system, Emma grabbed the lights from him and weaved them in with the others, inching closer to the top of the tree. Each time she moved up a rung, Thad did the same behind her, increasing the sizzling tension between them that apparently only she could feel because Thad continued scowling at the lights like they held all of his attention.
Once they finally got the entire tree lit, Thad stepped down off the ladder, followed by Emma. She stepped back to admire their handiwork and accidentally brushed against his chest with her shoulder.
“Sorry.” She moved away, doing her best to concentrate on the task at hand and not the hunky surgeon beside her as she picked up another box full of gorgeous red and gold glass ornaments. The mesmerizing iridescent sheen on them showed their quality and cost. Probably handmade. Way out of her price range to be sure, but they reminded her of the old hand-me-down ornaments her parents had used every year. Same magical feel, way less expensive. The lower cost never affected their beauty. “These are amazing. I’ve never seen decorations like this before.”
“My mother bought them from a Bavarian market one year,” he said, holding one up in front of him so the lights from the tree cast rainbow shards around the room. “They were her pride and joy.”
The sudden tenderness in his voice had Emma blinking hard against the unexpected sting of tears. The last thing she wanted to do today was start crying in front of Thad, so instead, she gestured toward the tree. “Since all this was your mother’s, I think you should have the honor of placing the first ornament.”
“Oh, I...” Thad frowned, as if only then realizing she was still there. “Let’s do it together.”
She took a deep breath, her heart pinching again. “But it’s obvious this meant so much to your mother and...”
He continued watching her, waiting.
“Fine. It’s making me sad, okay?” She threw up her hands, exasperated. “You’re not the only one with fond memories of your long-lost parents. All this reminds me of when my mom and dad used to decorate the tree with me and Karley. The holidays are hard for everyone. Doesn’t mean we still shouldn’t celebrate them.”
Saying it out loud seemed to open the floodgates of her past, causing a tidal wave of memories to rush back to her, just as vivid and real as the day they’d happened. The scent of the pine incense her dad used to light. The jolly sounds of Christmas carols on the radio. The sweetness of the cookies and eggnog they set out for Santa. Bittersweet now, all of it. Emma had tried hard to re-create those memories for Karley after their parents were gone, but it never felt quite the same.
Thad, thankfully, seemed to realize she needed some space, because he stopped questioning her and began decorating the tree alone. She held the box and handed him the ornaments while he hung them. Like clockwork they went, making a good team—same as they’d done in the ER—until the last box was empty. They stood shoulder to shoulder across the room then, admiring their work. Magical.
Soon though, the mood in the room changed. Thad’s arm bumped Emma’s, sending fresh waves of awareness through her nerve endings.
“My father wasn’t around very much after my mother died. Which was good, since he hated me.”
Stunned, Emma glanced up at him, noticing for the first time the row of tiny freckles covering the bridge of his nose. “I’m sure that’s not true. No parent hates their own child.”
“He did.” Thad stared straight ahead at the tree, his voice low and devoid of emotion. “He never missed an opportunity to tell me what a disappointment I was to him. How my disease made me weak and defective. How he wished I’d never been born. It’s those words that spur me on today. The burning desire to prove to him that he was wrong. In so many ways.”
Something clicked for her then. That’s why he acted the way he did, keeping everyone away. Not because he was truly a Grinch, but because of what had happened to him growing up. “You aren’t, you know,” she said, watching his throat work as he swallowed hard. “Defective or weak. You aren’t a disappointment at all, Thad. You have nothing to prove to anyone.”
“Hmm.” He continued staring at the tree. “Perhaps. But you don’t forget those scars. Not ever.”
A red and gold glow bathed the room now, lending a new warmth and intimacy to the space. Emma felt like the final walls between them had crashed down and for the first time she saw the real Thad. The one she’d suspected lurked beneath his grouchy exterior the whole time.
“I remember being in the PICU after my mom died,” Thad continued, his voice monotone as more painful memories surfaced. Emma didn’t interrupt, knowing he needed to get this out to help him heal. “He told them to keep me. That he didn’t want me around until I was normal again.” A tiny muscle near his jaw worked. “I knew, even then, that it had to be the grief talking. He was upset about my mother dying. I loved him. He was my father. I didn’t want to think the worst. But even after they got my blood sugar stabilized and I came home, nothing changed. Well, except my father. All he cared about from that point forward was his work. He became obsessed with money. Making it, spending it. His wealth consumed him. And when he was threatened with the loss of that wealth, he took whatever means necessary to keep it—even if it meant hurting and cheating other people to do it. If he hadn’t died from a heart attack when he did, I fully believe he would’ve been investigated by the SEC and found guilty. As it was, he died and left me with a mess and a scandal to clean up. I did both. And I’ve never taken a cent of his dirty money. All of it went to his victims and to the foundation to help other people and do good in the world. Even this town house is owned by the foundation. When I die, they have instructions to donate it to the city to be used as a museum or school or whatever else they need. His was a legacy of pain. I refuse to continue it onward. The pain stops with me.”
“Oh, Thad,” she whispered again, not knowing what else to say, her own heart breaking for him. Without thinking, she entwined her fingers with his and he let her. “You’ve been through so much and deserved none of it. But what you’re doing now, it’s so good. You’ll make a difference to so many people.”
He still wasn’t looking at her, but she saw the sheen in his eyes. “The only person who was ever there for me after my mom died was Everett. He sat with me, helped me with my homework, played with me. He’s more of a father to me than my own ever was.”
She’d sensed there was more of a relationship between the two men than employer and employee from the first night she’d come here, but now it made so much sense. “I’m glad he was there for you, Thad. Every child needs someone to care for them. I’ve tried to step in and be that for Karley, too.” Emma sighed. “Not sure I’ve done enough, though. Weird, but it’s easier taking care of other people as a nurse than it is those closest to you sometimes.”
Thad finally looked at her. “I haven’t met your sister, Emma, but I bet you’ve done a wonderful job. You’re one of the kindest people I’ve ever met.”
“Thank you. I appreciate you saying that.”
He put his arm around her shoulders—a bit stiffly, as if he wasn’t used to showing affection—and drew her into his side. Emma didn’t move at first, stunned, then slowly shifted to face him. Most people feared Thad, but not Emma. Never again. Not after tonight.
The flames in the fireplace crackled and shadows played in the glow from the tree, making the moment seem moody, mysterious and infinitely romantic. She licked her lips and he tracked the tiny movement with his gaze. Her breath caught as he dipped his head, thinking he was going to kiss her again. But then his cheek brushed hers as he buried his face in her hair and inhaled deep.
“I’m glad you’re here, Emma,” Thad said, his voice deep and rough.
“Me, too.” The words didn’t come out as firm as Emma wanted because just then Thad’s lips trailed around her ear, moving slowly across her cheekbone and down to her mouth. This time was different from their sweet kiss in the PICU lobby. Now it felt hot and needy, enough to rock her world like a shaken-up snow globe. Thad held her tight to him, as if afraid she’d disappear. After what he’d been through as a kid, maybe he was. Emma wanted to heal his wounds, make his holidays warm and bright and happy for once. She slid her hand from his chest, the soft hair at the nape of his neck tickling her fingertips, urging her to sink into him even more...
It took her a moment then to process the cold rush of air between them. He returned to the window, alone. Her lips tingled and her head felt stuffy with emotions. She hugged her arms around herself against a shudder. “Thad, I...”
“I think you should go,” he said, still staring outside, his breath fogging the glass. “Have Everett get your things and call you a taxi home. I’ll pay for it.”
“But...” she whispered, still feeling a bit dazed.
Thad stalked toward the office door then, his words a rush as he passed her. “My foundation is setting up a holiday fundraiser for the end of next week for all of the charities we support, including the wish project. I’d like you to accompany me to the event.”
She blinked at him, still trying to process his abrupt change in mood, let alone his words. “I, uh...”
“I’ll text you the exact date and time,” he said to her, stopping on the threshold of the doorway to glance back at her. “It will be formal, so I’ll have one of the local stores send something to your apartment for you to wear to the event. Just give Everett your sizes and he’ll arrange everything else. Good night, Emma.”
He walked out, leaving her to stare after him, wondering when exactly she’d become Cinderella in their crazy Christmas fairy tale.