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Chapter One Amy Lee stood at the railing on the second floor of her palatial home in Malibu, staring down with quiet intensity at her guests, mostly employees and a few acquaintances. The occasion was her annual Christmas party. Why she even bothered she had no idea. It had taken a crew of four three whole days to decorate the house from top to bottom. Another crew of three to decorate the outside. Christmas trees in every room, huge wreaths with red satin bows over all the mantels. Gossamer angels floated from ceiling wire, while a life-size stuffed Santa complete with a packed sleigh and a parade of elves circled the floor-to-ceiling fireplace that separated the great room from the dining room. The focal point of all the decorations. The mansion was festive to the nth degree, and she hated every bit of it. She could hardly wait for midnight, when she handed out the gifts and bonus checks, at which point the guests would make a beeline for the door, having done their duty by attending
Chapter One
Chapter Two Henry Anders, also known as Cranky Hank Anders, hefted his oversize suitcase off the carousel and looked around for his sister-in-law, who had said she’d meet him in the baggage area. When he didn’t see her, he made his way to the closest EXIT sign. And then he saw her pushing a double stroller with the year-old twins, who were howling at the top of their lungs. He wondered if their high-pitched screams had anything to do with the way they were bundled up. Their mother looked just as frazzled as her offspring. Alice Anders stopped in her tracks and threw out her arms. “Hank! I’m so glad to see you! I’m sorry I’m late. There was traffic, and my two bundles of joy here are overdue for a nap. I had to park a mile away. I’m sorry. I left hours ahead of time just so I wouldn’t be late, and what happens, I’m late! Ohhh, I’m just so glad you’re here. I was dreading going through the holidays without Ben. I had an e-mail from him this morning, and he warned me not to be late; that’
Chapter Two
Chapter Three Amy Lee, aka Amanda Leigh, walked through her old home. Everything was just as she remembered it. All these years later, nothing had changed. Thanks, she knew, to Flo, who stayed in touch with her parents’ old friends. Amy was glad now that she’d had the foresight to call ahead to a cleaning service, which had cleaned the house and turned on all the utilities as well as doing a week’s grocery shopping. It was worth every penny in comfort alone. She was toasty warm, and there was even a load of wood on the back porch and a stack of logs and kindling perched on the end of the fireplace hearth. Maybe this evening she’d make a fire the way her parents had always done after dinner. Her memory of that terrible time when her world had changed forever surfaced. This time she didn’t push the memory away. Flo should have let her stay, at least for a while. She should have cried and been given the chance to grieve instead of being dragged across the country where every hour of her d
Chapter Three
Chapter Four Hank Anders staggered down the stairs a little before midnight. He was beyond exhausted from the past few hours with the twins, and he now had a newfound respect for his sister-in-law. Where in the name of God was she? Probably sleeping peacefully in some five-star hotel after being pampered by a trained masseuse. The two dogs looked at him warily. Churchill ran to the sliding glass doors off the kitchen that led to a little terrace in the back. Earlier he’d seen the area was fenced, so he let the dogs out. His nerves were twanging all over the place as he prepared a cup of hot chocolate the way his mother had always done when things got dicey. Well, as far as he was concerned, things didn’t get any dicier than this. Dinner had been a disaster. The twins didn’t like hard-boiled eggs. They didn’t like toast either. When they wouldn’t eat, he’d belatedly checked to make sure they had teeth, and sure enough they each had six. Then he’d tried peanut butter and jelly, but they
Chapter Four
Chapter Five Amy felt like she was walking on legs of Jell-O as she shed her outerwear on the way to the kitchen. Hank wasn’t married. He was right behind her. In her very own kitchen. And he looked every bit as good as she dreamed. He was here. She was going to make him coffee and sticky buns. How good could life get? But the absolute best was, he had no clue that she was a movie star. A mighty sigh escaped her. She whirled around, not realizing how close he was. They literally butted shoulders. She looked into dark brown eyes that she remembered so well. She could smell minty toothpaste. In a liquid flash she could see something in his eyes, the same thing she was feeling. He blinked. She blinked, then Churchill broke the moment by jumping between them. Flustered, Amy backed away, and Hank sat down on one of the old wooden kitchen chairs. The exquisite moment was gone. Hopefully it would return at some point. Amy reminded herself that she was an actress. She could carry this off unti
Chapter Five
Chapter Six It wasn’t until Amy finished her third slice of pizza and drained the last of her root beer float that she realized she’d been doing all the talking. Hank had only eaten one slice of the delicious pizza, and his root beer float was basically untouched. He also had a strange look on his face. Like he wanted to say something or possibly ask her something and didn’t quite know how to go about it. The words “moody” and “sullen” came to mind. She shook her head to clear her thoughts. She didn’t need this, no way, no how. Maybe he thought she’d spent too much money at OK Florist. He’d commented on her Range Rover, calling it a pricey set of wheels. Maybe he had a thing about women spending money. He’d been fine before they got to the florist, so whatever was wrong had nothing to do with Mr. Carpenter or the dogs. It had to be her. Something about her was suddenly bothering him. She racked her brain to try to recall what she might have said or done that would make him so quiet all
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven The caravan of cars leaving the snow-filled cemetery was several miles long. Albert Carpenter had been laid to rest, and the whole town had turned out to show their regard and to honor the man who had done so much for the education system. It hadn’t been a sad affair at all. More like a celebration of Albert’s life. The wake that started at six the previous evening had gone on well past midnight to allow all the citizens of Apple Valley to pay their respects. They came in trucks, on sleds, on skis, and the sanitation workers had shown up on the town’s snowplow. During his teaching years, Albert had always conducted the Christmas Pageant, and when the actors took their final bow, the audience and cast alike had stayed to sing Christmas carols. And that’s what they did this year before the funeral director closed the doors for the night. Until her passing, Mrs. Carpenter had been in charge of the refreshments. This night, Apple Valley’s school principal did the honors. So m
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight Alice Anders paced the narrow confines of her friend’s tiny apartment. Tears rolled down her cheeks. Am I out of my mind? No sane person would do what I’ve done. No sane person would abandon her home, her children, and her husband’s dog. Even if Ben was a perfect dad, she’d fallen down on her job and screwed up big-time. That was the bottom line. She looked down at the tabby cat circling her feet. Chloe was her name. She picked her up and cuddled her against her neck. This little animal didn’t mess in the house, she had her own private sanitation boxes in the tiny laundry room and in the bathroom. She didn’t make mistakes. And she cleaned herself religiously, unlike Churchill, who messed all over and rolled in mud whenever he felt like it. Giving him a bath always clogged the bathtub drain and then it was eighty-five dollars to get it unclogged. Her budget, stringent as it was, had ceased to exist months and months ago. Her credit cards were maxed out. She lived day to da
Chapter Eight
Chapter One The deer came flying out of nowhere, a flash of dark brown in a swirling white-on-white world. At least it seemed that way. One minute Holly Berry was driving on the winding, two-lane road that snaked through Washington’s Cascade Mountains at a crawl, straining her eyes to see through the wall of white snow piling up too fast for even her furiously working windshield wipers to handle. The next minute she was fishtailing into a series of dizzying spins that a gold-medalist Olympic skater would’ve envied, sliding helplessly toward the edge of the cliff. That’s when she realized that it was true—your life really did flash before your eyes just before you died. “You’re not going to die,” she insisted, as if saying it out-loud could make it true. After what seemed a lifetime, but in real time was only a few seconds, her SUV slammed into an ice-encrusted snowbank. Then pow! While her heart was pounding like an angry fist against her ribs, the airbag exploded from the center of he
Chapter One
Chapter Two It was amazing how much a guy’s life could change in twelve months, Gabriel O’Halloran considered as he cautiously made his way around the twisting switchbacks of the icy mountain road. This time last year, he’d been in Iraq, patrolling streets, dodging insurgent gunfire, praying like hell that he and his fellow Marines wouldn’t get blown to pieces by an IED. On a sixty-five-degree Christmas morning, while on patrol, his team had nearly walked into an ambush. Fortunately, one of the bad guys had gotten trigger-happy and begun to shoot as the first Marine entered the alley. Even better was that his “pray and spray” gunfire hadn’t managed to hit anyone. The battle, which was a long way from the peace the season was supposed to celebrate, lasted less than five minutes. The insurgents, knowing when they were outgunned, faded away, undoubtedly to fight another day. As leader of the patrol, Gabe could have ordered the team to go after them. Deciding he didn’t want to be responsib
Chapter Two
Chapter Three Having already had one accident that day, Holly was relieved when he kept the Expedition at a safe crawl, the yellow beam of the headlights bouncing off the wall of white stuff that continued to fall. “We’ll be in the town in another twenty minutes or so,” he told her after they’d been driving approximately twenty-five minutes. He’d turned the radio down, but she’d listened to a steady stream of road closures throughout the state. His voice sounded deeper and richer in the intimacy of the snow-shrouded silence. “Okay, here’s where I admit I have no idea what town that might be.” “Santa’s Village.” “You can’t be serious.” Maybe he wasn’t a stone-cold killer, or even 5150 insane, but once again Holly began to worry about him being delusional. “It’s the town’s name, all right. Population six hundred twenty-seven.” He glanced over at her. “It’s also not on the way to Leavenworth.” She definitely would’ve noticed that town on the map while planning her trip. “Damn GPS.” Not en
Chapter Three
Chapter Four She stayed silent for a long time, seeming lost in thought as she watched the woods out the passenger window. The only sound was the crunch of the snow beneath the tires, the slight scraping noise of the wipers as they struggled with the snow that was rapidly turning to ice, and the low drone of the voice on the radio announcing yet more road closures. Her scent—reminding him of a vacation his family had taken to Vashon Island, where they’d gleaned fruit from a peach orchard—bloomed in the heat blasting from the dashboard vents. He wondered if she smelled like that all over. Wondered if she tasted as good. Which had him imagining her lying on hot, tangled sheets while he ran his tongue down her smooth white throat. Across her collarbone. Then lower, over her pink-tipped breasts that he’d make wet with his kisses… Fire shot, along with his blood, from his obviously fevered brain to his groin. “I don’t understand,” she said as he shifted to adjust his suddenly too-tight jean
Chapter Four
Chapter Five “When do you think he’s going to get here?” the five-year-old girl asked for the umpteenth time in the last hour. “It’s been snowing to beat the band,” Beth O’Halloran reminded her granddaughter yet again as she took the basket of sliced potatoes out of the deep fryer and dumped them onto a plate next to a half-pound of Angus beef burger. “It takes time to get back up here from the city.” “I know.” Emma O’Halloran’s frustrated sigh ruffled her bright bangs. “But it’s just taking forever!” She began pacing again, the heels of her pink cowboy boots clicking an impatient tattoo on the heart-of-pine plank floor of the Ho Ho Ho Inn. “I know,” Beth said sympathetically, stepping around the little girl to get the coleslaw out of the commercial refrigerator. With three of her four children being daughters, Beth was accustomed to the amount of passion that could simmer inside even the youngest feminine body. Emma stopped in front of the kitchen window again, pressing her nose again
Chapter Five
Chapter Six From high atop the town, bathed in the rising moonlight that cast a bluish glow over the snow, the small town of Santa’s Village looked like the set of a model railroad. There appeared to be one main street—strung with, natch, bright red and green flashing lights—then a handful of others going off at ninety-degree angles. It was admittedly charming, if you liked the It’s a Wonderful Life approach to the season. Taking the moonlit scene in, she decided the entire village couldn’t be more than nine blocks square. Winter-bare trees in front yards were strung with fairy lights and electric candles flickered in windows. “Cute,” she murmured dryly as they passed by a giant statue of Santa welcoming visitors to “Santa’s Village, The Most Christmassy Town in America.” The part of her accustomed to editing her manuscripts wondered if Christmassy was even a word. The right arm, which had to be at least six feet from fingertip to shoulder, was automated to wave a manic greeting. It wa
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven The sweep of headlights flashed in the window. Over the sound of the wind in the tops of the trees, Beth heard a truck door open and shut. Then, surprisingly, another. The door to the combination inn/restaurant/bar opened a moment later and Gabriel entered with a woman who looked vaguely familiar. “It’s her!” Emma hissed. “Who?” Beth looked closer. “My present!” “What present?” “The one I decided I wanted more than a pony,” Emma insisted on an impatient huff. “My new mom!” “What?” “See.” The little girl shoved the napkin at her grandmother. “I had Mr. Daughtry draw her for me, so Santa would know exactly what she looked like.” Beth studied the pencil sketch, then looked back at the woman stamping the snow off a pair of calf-high chocolate-hued Uggs. Daughtry’s sketch wasn’t as detailed as a photograph. But there was no mistaking the resemblance. The artist had captured the pointed, stubborn chin, the wide mouth, which was smiling in the sketch, unlike the real woman whose
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight The cabin, which was stone and wood on the outside, was warm and cozy, with overstuffed furniture covered in sturdy fabric designed to take a lot of abuse. The furniture was an eclectic mixture of pine and other woods, the plank coffee table wide enough to encourage visitors to put their feet up. Someone—it had to have been Gabe—had lit a fire in the stone fireplace while she’d been eating dinner. There was a powder room and large but cozy combination living room and kitchen separated by a granite-topped counter downstairs. Upstairs, in the loft, was a bath with separate shower and oversize whirlpool tub that looked out onto the dark expanse of forest, and a bedroom boasting a king-size four-poster bed created from logs. Yellow plank pine walls glowed like warm butter beneath the wrought iron chandelier. A second fireplace, this one gas, flickered in the corner and a Native American print quilt and pillows covered the bed. A smaller blanket, bordered in deep brown and blu
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine She closed her eyes, expecting the former Marine to ravish, to take what she was so willingly offering. But instead, she felt the curve of his lips against hers. “Well”—his voice, husky with lust, but tinged with humor, had her toes curling in her Uggs—“since you put it that way.” Needs. Hunger. Lust. They surged through Gabe, battering away at his hard-won self-control, demanding satisfaction. In response to her demand, he crushed her against him as his lips turned hard. Fueled by his own burning hunger, driven by her uninhibited response, he wanted to devour her—her warm, ripe mouth, her hot, peach-scented skin, which was practically melting beneath his now roving hands. His tongue was in her mouth, his hands were beneath the sweater on her breasts, and as he pressed against that soft, womanly place between her thighs, he felt about to burst all five metal buttons beneath his fly. Too fast, he told himself as her mouth clung to his and her silky soft hands dove beneath h
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten Holly stood at the door, watching him walk out of the yellow circle of light from her own porch back to the inn. White flakes continued to fall, shawling silently over the land, and once he’d been swallowed up by the snow-swirled darkness, she could have been the only person in the world. Which was all it took to kick Holly’s imagination into high gear. She hadn’t been all that wild about the cookie murders, anyway, having already written a black widow killer. But six weeks ago, although she’d never allowed herself to believe in writer’s block, she’d run smack into it. She’d always read three newspapers a day looking for story ideas. Desperate, and with a deadline approaching, she’d added two more papers and more magazines than anyone could read in a lifetime. She began taking tabloids home with her frozen dinners from the supermarket. Okay, her audience might not want to read about bat boy being found on a melting glacier at the North Pole, or the Titanic being discovered
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven It was the knock on the door that woke her. Sitting up, Holly looked around the unfamiliar surroundings. It took her a moment to realize where she was. Aha! The inn out in the middle of the Cascade Mountains, where she’d landed after wrecking her Highlander. She squinted, trying to read her watch. “Ten in the morning?” She never, ever slept past seven. Except that time two years ago, when despite having a shot, she’d come down with the flu. Or, when she’d been writing madly until deadline. Which is exactly what she’d been doing last night. She vaguely remembered saving her story. Then e-mailing it to herself, just in case some crazy electrical storm surge might come along to fry her laptop. Then she’d dragged herself upstairs where, because even with the central heat there was a chill in the air, she’d put on her flannel pajamas, after which she’d fallen into bed. Then crashed. That had been, what? Two hours ago? She thought about ignoring the knock, rolling over, buryin
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve Emma was bundled up like a snow princess in her Hello Kitty pink hooded jacket lined with white faux fur, matching pink snowpants and boots, and fuzzy pink mittens, when Holly came downstairs. The expectation on her face was so bright Holly felt she needed to put on her sunglasses. “Emma,” Gabe said, not taking his eyes from Holly, “why don’t you go check on Dog. Ms. Berry and I will lock up and be out in a minute.” “Okay.” She obediently went outside. “Now that she got her way, she’ll be sweet as a sugar plum for at least the next ten minutes,” Gabe said. His wry grin creased his cheeks in a way that made Holly want to lick those dimples. “She’s darling.” To keep her hands out of trouble, Holly turned her back and slipped her arms into the scarlet ski jacket she’d hung on the wall hook last night. “And you’re good with her.” “It’s taken some adjustment on both our parts,” he surprised her by admitting. “But we’re getting there.” His fingers brushed the back of her neck
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen The excitement of the day had obviously gotten to Emma, who fell asleep in the back of the sleigh on the ride back to the inn. “Blessed silence,” Gabe murmured. “I think she’s darling,” Holly said. “You’re not going to get any argument there,” he agreed. “Sometimes, like out of the blue, it’ll dawn on me that she’s actually my child, you know, the seed of my loins, all that sort of thing, and I’ll just feel knocked flat.” “She’s fortunate to have you.” He shrugged. “We’re both lucky.” Gabe knew Holly was curious. Knew he was going to have to tell her what happened. But since his mother had already warned him about Emma thinking that this newcomer to Santa’s Village had been sent to be her new mother, he feared his daughter might just be pretending to sleep. She had, after all, proven herself to be a fairly good little actress. He was going to have to talk with Emma about Holly. Explain that while Santa had many great qualities, and while maybe he might be able to fit a
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen “A week?” Holly blew out a frustrated breath. Dragged a hand through her hair. “At least,” Ken Olson, of Olson’s Auto Repair, repeated. “Sorry. But this isn’t the city. It’s hard to get parts over the holidays. Especially with all the roads closed.” “But surely you have radiators.” She looked around the garage that was packed concrete floor to ceiling with car parts that Ken, a major packrat, had collected over more than fifty years in the business. “Maybe a refurbished one that’ll get me back to the city?” “Well, now, I might be able to find one that’d fit your vehicle,” he allowed, the unlit cigarette Gabe had never seen him without bobbing between his lips. “But the thing is, you’ve got more trouble than a radiator. Your fuel level float’s flat busted, and the flange on your alternator’s cracked, plus, your power steering pump’s leaking fluid, the front struts don’t look good, and I sure wouldn’t want to send you back down the mountain with those brake linings.” He
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen The town was surprisingly charming. Oh, overdone, certainly, if you weren’t a fan of Christmas, but still, once you looked beneath the tinsel and trappings shouting out from the storefront windows, there were really lovely locally handcrafted items inside the shops. Many that would easily belong in the trendy galleries of Seattle’s Fremont and Pioneer Square neighborhoods or even Kirkland, known as the Monterey of the West, across Lake Washington. Telling herself she wasn’t really becoming a Christmas shopper, that she was just paying back a kindness, she bought a lovely cashmere scarf, woven by a local artisan, in soft shades of cream, moss green, and gray, for Beth O’Halloran. Once she’d done that, well, of course she needed to find something for Emma. Which was when she decided to check out Santa’s Workshop. The building was housed in what appeared to be an old brick warehouse at the end of North Pole Lane. The minute she walked into the gift shop, Holly decided the
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen Anticipation, Holly thought, as she bathed in the oversize tub—after stealing a nap so she’d be rested for the evening ahead—then smoothed on the peach-scented lotion Gabe had first mentioned wanting to taste, could be a bitch. It wasn’t as if she were some virgin bride getting ready for her wedding night. She’d had sex lots of times before. Okay, probably not nearly as many as he’d undoubtedly had. But how hard could it be? She not only wanted his hot, rock-hard Marine body, she liked him. Which was, to her mind, even more important than chemistry. So why were her nerves so tightly tangled they felt on the verge of snapping? Her cheeks were flushed, more from emotion than the warm bath, and her hands were shaking so hard she’d nearly poked her eyes out with her mascara tube. Somehow they made it through the dinner, which hadn’t been that much of a problem. Anyone could throw together some lasagna, after all. She’d learned to make the dish when she was only a few years
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen It was a time of mistletoe and magic. Of cocoa, and carols, and walking hand in hand down snowy lanes. Although she’d spent twenty-one years of her life avoiding Christmas, over the next five days, as if determined to make up for all she’d missed growing up, Holly allowed Gabe to coax and cajole her into experiencing the joy and fun to be had during the holidays in “The Most Christmassy Town in America.” Although it had been obvious that Emma’s sacrifice to forgo helping decorate the tree had been a matchmaking attempt, Holly insisted the little girl help, and as the three of them hung the wooden ornaments they’d picked out together at Sam Fraiser’s shop, when Gabe had lifted Emma high to put the red-haired angel on top of the fragrant blue spruce, Holly felt as if they were becoming a family. A feeling that intensified as she attended the school’s Christmas pageant, sitting in metal folding chairs with the entire O’Halloran clan. They watched Emma, clad in a long whi
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter One Richmond, VirginiaTuesday, December 23, 9:00 A.M. Nat King Cole crooned on a bargain CD player as Nicole Piper set down her half-eaten peanut butter sandwich and picked up a Baby’s First Christmas snow angel. She moved to a small silver vintage Christmas tree perched on her dinette table. The tree’s aluminum bristles caught the light streaming in the window. She’d found the Christmas tree at a fall yard sale. The tree’s twenty-dollar price tag had seemed high at the time, but the vendor had assured Nicole the tree was a steal. Still, she’d worried over the extravagance and had negotiated the price down to eighteen dollars. Two dollars was loose change to most, but not for her. Her budding photography business barely brought in enough to support Nicole and her infant daughter. The tree might have been unnecessary, but she was glad now she’d bought it. Its sparkling branches were not only festive but its bold, quirky style suited her new life. Nicole hung the angel front and
Chapter One
Chapter Two Tuesday, December 23, 10:15 A.M. Nicole gripped the DVD in her hand as she climbed the staircase to the second-floor offices of the county’s homicide department. Today, there weren’t many people on the floor, which usually buzzed with ringing phones and chatter. The silence gave the place an eerie quality that underscored the tension radiating from every muscle in her body. As she moved down the carpeted hallway her mind slipped back to the day she’d met Claire Carmichael. The breeze of the San Francisco Bay had left her skin chilled as she’d pushed through the front door of the new age shop. Bells above her head jingled and the delicate scent of lavender hung in the air. Her hands trembled. Her body ached inside and out and bruises darkened her arms. Last night with Richard had been the worst ever. Unprovoked, he’d hit her. She’d tried to calm him, but he’d been inconsolable. He’d pinned her on the floor of his office and savagely raped her. He’d told her over and over t
Chapter Two
Chapter Three Tuesday, December 23, 1:00 P.M. “What is it?” Nicole felt her throat tighten with dread. Ayden laid the pages face down. “Pictures.” Her heart felt as if it would explode in her chest. “What kind of pictures?” His jaw tightened and released. “Pictures of a murder scene. Claire Carmichael’s murder scene.” She felt sick. “Taken by the police?” “No. The killer.” He laid his hands on the pictures, clearly unwilling to let her see them. She blew out a breath. “How do you know that?” Ayden tapped his thumb on the table. A small muscle pulsed in his tight jaw. “She’s still alive.” Nicole raised a shaking hand to her lips. She didn’t want to picture her friend at the mercy of a killer, but dark, frightening images flashed in her head. Nicole knew Claire’s face had been cut dozens of times with a razor. Smoothing unsteady hands over her thighs she tamped down the fear that clawed at her. She was so glad that Ayden was here now. “Is there anything that tells us who the killer is?”
Chapter Three
Chapter Four Tuesday, December 23, 2:30 P.M. Ayden and Nicole didn’t speak as they rode the elevator in silence to the third floor. Amazed at the blend of nerves and desire in his gut, he guided her to the door and opened it with the key. Nicole walked into the room. Her movements were careful, deliberate. He knew she wanted the sex; knew she was primed for it. But he wished he could read her mind or the subtle expressions on her face. Ayden closed the door softly behind him. He wouldn’t worry about tomorrow. It was all about now. Nicole dropped her purse in a chair and faced him. She smiled and moistened her lips as she shrugged off her jacket. He was so hard he could barely think. He’d long thought he was past the wild passions that drove his teenage sons to distraction. Now it was all he could do to string two thoughts together. She moved toward him and stared up at him. Her deep brown eyes telegraphed her desire. She slid her arms around his neck and rose up on tiptoes. He banded h
Chapter Four
Chapter Five Tuesday, December 23, 4:00 P.M. Nicole wasn’t sure how long she’d dozed. She only knew that she couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt more relaxed or content. The restless energy that had dogged her for so long was gone. In this room, with Ayden’s body spooned against hers, all felt right with the world. Ayden traced his hand along her naked thigh. His touch wasn’t possessive, or seductive even. It was familiar, tender, as if he’d touched her a thousand times. For a moment, promises of a future with Ayden whispered in her head. They were sweet, alluring, and tempted Nicole to open her heart. She stopped. She and Ayden had right now. And now would have to be enough. She rolled on her back and the sheet slipped away from her full breasts. Ayden had propped his head up on his hand. “How long have you been awake?” He smiled. “Just a little while.” She suspected it had been more time than that. Ayden moved his hand to her flat stomach and traced circles around her belly bu
Chapter Five
Chapter Six Tuesday, December 23, 5:00 P.M. Ayden sat in the darkened corner of their hotel room watching Nicole as she slept. Making love to her had rekindled everything he’d felt for her and more. He’d do whatever it took to protect her. He glanced at the envelope they’d picked up at the law offices. He’d gone into the hallway and called San Francisco PD and spoken to a Detective Rio about the Carmichael murder. California authorities had theorized that Braxton had killed the woman but they had never been able to prove it. He told them about the photos and the twisted treasure hunt he and Nicole were on now. With luck they’d nail the killer and Carmichael’s family would have closure. Rio had been excited about the development. The Carmichael case had haunted him like few other murders had. Before he’d hung up, Ayden had promised to call as soon as he had more information. Ayden cringed when he looked at the horrendous shots. No one deserved to die like this. Rage roiled inside of him
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven Wednesday, December 24, 8:00 A.M. Nicole couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt, well, complete. She loved Beth and couldn’t imagine her life without her child, but last night with Ayden had filled a need that went beyond the mind-blowing sex. For the first time, the idea of a life with him didn’t scare her. She stepped out of the shower and toweled off her hair. She dressed in yesterday’s clothes and dried her hair quickly with the hotel’s blow dryer. When she stepped out of the bathroom, Ayden was standing with his back to her. He’d dressed and stared out the window. His cell phone to his ear. Under his white shirt she saw the outline of his bulletproof vest and frowned. She didn’t like the idea of him being in danger. “The roads have been cleared and salted, so we’ll be able to get on the road. It just depends what we find at the bank,” he said into the phone. At the bank. Richard. For the last few hours, she’d felt so much like her old self—a vibrant, twenty-nine-
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight Wednesday, December 24, 9:02 A.M. Nicole struggled to free her arm as the stranger dragged her to a metal door. “Let go of me!” Denny jabbed the barrel of the gun in her side. “Make a sound and I will kill your friend by the reception desk.” A scream died in her throat as the service door slammed behind them. “What do you want?” “Your husband sent me.” Nicole jerked against his grip. “My husband is dead!” “He hired me before he died. I’m kinda his insurance plan.” He fired at the lock and the bullet mangled the metal before bouncing off. Nicole cringed. Denny didn’t flinch as he pushed her down the tunnellike hallway that led toward stairs. The air in the hallway quickly grew colder and she could smell the scent of garbage. They were headed to a back alley. She twisted free, lost her balance and pitched forward toward the stairs. Denny grabbed her arm again, saving her from falling. “Careful, you could have broken your neck.” If he’d meant to kill her quickly, he would ha
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine Thursday, December 25, 8:00 A.M. Nicole tossed and turned all night. Several times nightmares woke her up. You are mine forever. Richard’s words reached out from the past and there were moments she could almost imagine his hot breath on her face. At one A. M. she had sat up in bed soaked in sweat and fear. She was certain she heard footsteps several times. She ran to her front door and checked the locks. She also peeked in on the baby, who slept peacefully in her crib. She and Beth were safe. And yet the fear clung to her like a wraith. At dawn, she had swung her legs over the side of the bed and gave up on sleep. Checking Beth again, she padded into the kitchen and made herself a cup of coffee. As the pot dripped and spit she glanced at her hands. They were clean now but the memory of the would-be killer’s blood was sharp and clear. She’d been so excited about this Christmas. This Christmas was to be her new beginning. Her fresh start. And Richard had found a way to ruin
Chapter Nine
Chapter One When the doorbell rang the first time, “Mac” Maguire was stretched out on the floor with his head and shoulders under the kitchen sink, trying to fix a leaky P-trap. He wasn’t in the mood for visitors, so he ignored the interruption. But then it chimed again. And again. In his haste to get to his feet, he banged his head on the cupboard overhang and cursed under his breath. By the time he reached the entryway, his forehead was throbbing and aching like a son of a gun. So when he swung open the door, he found it difficult to smile, even when he found seventy-nine-year-old Charlie Iverson standing on the stoop wearing a blinking, battery-operated Santa hat, a white shirt stained with tobacco juice, and a red and green argyle vest. “I need to report a theft,” the elderly widower said. “Did you call the police?” “You are the police.” Yes, but Mac was also off duty and on vacation. “What was stolen?” “An angel that’s been in my family for years. It was standing in the front yard
Chapter One
Chapter Two As Jillian welcomed her old boyfriend into the house, her pulse rate soared through the roof, and her heart tripped all over itself trying to regain control. Yesterday she’d spotted a man in the neighborhood who’d resembled Mac, but she’d shrugged off the similarities, thinking her eyes had been playing tricks on her. But, apparently, they hadn’t been. Now here he was. “You look great,” Mac told her. She wanted to believe him, but she’d gained weight during her marriage—ten pounds with each child she’d borne and then some. But she thanked him anyway and added, “You look great, too.” And he did. He still wore his sandy-blond hair stylishly mussed, and his blue eyes were just as bright and intense as they’d ever been. His face had matured nicely, and in keeping with the memory she held of him, a light stubble of day-old beard added to the bad-boy aura she’d found so attractive when she was a teenager. A nasty lump, which appeared fresh, marred his forehead, though. She wonder
Chapter Two
Chapter Three It was mid-December, but the air was still a bit crisp and chilly for a southern California beach community. Mac probably should have suggested taking the kids to Happy Donuts, which was only a few shops down from The Creamery. But the ice cream cone invitation had just rolled off his tongue, and the kids and their mother had been okay with it. So here they were, parked in his black Ford Expedition on the shady, tree-lined street, where The Creamery was flanked by Specks Appeal, an eyeglass store, and Café Del Sol, a trendy eatery that offered both indoor and sidewalk dining. While Mac slid out of the driver’s seat, Jillian and the kids climbed from the SUV. Most children had a natural sweet tooth, so he figured he’d get on Tommy’s good side by buying him a treat. And maybe, if he was able to connect with the boy on some level, he could help Jillian put an end to the cold war that seemed to be brewing between her son and Charlie. As they entered the shop, a bell—probably
Chapter Three
Chapter Four Jillian and Mac, each with an insulated cup in hand, steam rising and twisting in the cool, wintry air, walked the children across the street to Mulberry Park. Today had been surreal, Jillian thought, first with Mac showing up at the door and then with him suggesting they take the kids to The Creamery. And now they were headed to the playground. She’d always wanted Jared to take part in outings like this, and while they did occasionally go to dinner or to school programs together, he usually had a reason for not joining her and the kids. “Sorry, babe,” he would say, sometimes placing a kiss on her cheek and sometimes not giving her so much as a glance. “I’ve got another meeting I have to attend. And you know that business comes first.” She just hadn’t realized he’d meant monkey business. Of course, now Jared was probably strolling the deck of a cruise ship with his new family in tow, which wasn’t fair to the two children he’d left behind. But she shook off the thought. The
Chapter Four
Chapter Five The rain began as a light sprinkle, dotting the pavement and plumping the dust in the air with moisture. As Mac, Jillian, and the kids entered the crosswalk on their way back to where the Ford Expedition was parked, the kids used words of encouragement, kissing sounds, and pats on their thighs to coax the stray dog to follow. Apparently, the shaggy little mutt realized it was in his best interest to keep up with the children, because even though it favored its left hind foot, it managed to hobble across the street at a pretty good lick. “What are we going to name him?” Megan asked her brother. Mac’s first thought was “Lucky,” but he didn’t offer any suggestions. He’d already gotten more involved with the little family than he ought to. “He looks like a Wookiee,” Tommy said. “So how about Chewbacca? We can call him Chewie.” “I don’t want to call him that. Besides, he’s not going to look like a Wookiee forever. After he gets a bath, I’m going to use one of my barrettes to ke
Chapter Five
Chapter Six After his visit with Charlie, Mac took a shower, then finished working on the drain under the kitchen sink. As he’d planned to do earlier, he also replaced the garbage disposal and changed out the hot water valve. Now, at a few minutes before six, he stood at Jillian’s door, wearing faded Levis, a black jacket, and a white button-down shirt. The wind had really kicked up during the past half hour, and the light rain that had continued to drizzle had dampened his hair and clothes. He probably should have looked for an umbrella so he didn’t get drenched on his return home, but it was too late now. He knocked at the door, and moments later, Jillian answered wearing a crisply pressed lime-green blouse, a pair of black slacks, and a smile. She’d also curled her hair and applied some lipstick, which suggested that she might have wanted to look nice for him. But he wouldn’t take that assumption to heart. The dinner invitation had been a neighborly response, and so had his acceptan
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven Mac jogged after Jillian, hoping she hadn’t caught the house on fire and kicking himself for not being more alert when they’d dashed into the living room to see what all the fuss was about. When he reached the smoke-filled kitchen, Jillian had already removed the burning pan from the flame. He opened the window, and she grabbed a dishtowel and began fanning the smoke out of the house. Still, the alarm continued to screech like a banshee. “Where’s the smoke detector?” he asked. “I’ll remove the batteries.” She nodded toward the doorway, her towel flapping in the air. “It’s at the top of the stairway.” He turned to leave the kitchen, and she reached for his arm, stopping him. Again, her touch reached something deep inside of him. “I’m really sorry about this.” A blush on her cheeks revealed sincerity, as well as embarrassment. He lifted his free hand and skimmed his knuckles along her cheek. “Don’t be sorry.” Her lips parted, and her breath caught. Yet she didn’t step back,
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight Jillian sat in an overstuffed easy chair in the living room, listening to the rain splatter the window and waiting for Mac and Tommy to return from Mr. Iverson’s house. She sure hoped Mac knew what he was doing, but she’d never had any trouble with her neighbors before and didn’t want any now. With Tommy gone and Megan in her bedroom playing with Princess Leia, the house was quiet—other than the steady tick-tock of the antique clock on the mantel and the occasional crackle from the fire in the hearth. Dinner had been pleasant this evening—until Jared had called. Yet it wasn’t just the call that had surprised her. She’d also sensed something in his tone. Something…off. He seemed a bit down, but she wouldn’t try to analyze why. She was just glad that he’d thought about the kids and had wanted to talk to them before bedtime. Megan’s desperate outburst had clearly caught him off guard, though, and Jillian understood why it had. Early on, the six-year-old had been brokenhearte
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine Talk about domestic drama. Jillian stood in the bathroom doorway and watched Mac kneel beside the toilet, roll up his sleeve, reach deep within the now-empty ceramic bowl, and pull out a small toy motorcycle. Then he got to his feet and dropped it into the sink. As he washed his hands with hot, soapy water, he glanced over his shoulder and flashed Jillian a boyish grin. “I’ve had plenty of experience with plumbing these past few days, but I’ve yet to run into this same problem at my place.” She was sure he hadn’t. Finding toys that had been flushed down the toilet was the kind of thing only parents and grandparents had to deal with. She turned to her son, who sat on the edge of the fiberglass tub, the pale green bathmat bunched up at his bare feet. “How did your motorcycle get in there?” she asked. He shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t do it.” Jillian knew better than to believe everything her children told her, but since Megan had disappeared the moment Mac had entered the
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten The rain stopped around five o’clock that morning, and by the time Mac finally rolled out of bed and peered out the window, there were only a few clouds left in the sky. The day promised to be clear and bright, yet Mac’s thoughts were anything but. Ever since that kiss last night, he’d been unable to focus on anything other than Jillian and what he felt for her. Okay, so that wasn’t entirely true. He also thought about her kids and the lousy Christmas they were going to have. Not that he was any expert on what they were missing out on. He’d learned not to put much stock in any holiday—especially that one—but he knew most kids were counting down the days by now. Around nine-thirty, as he poured his second cup of coffee, he had what could only be considered a lightbulb moment. What would it hurt for him to purchase Jillian’s kids a Christmas tree? There was a lot at the north end of Applewood Drive, so it wouldn’t take long to pick one up. He wasn’t sure what she had in the w
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven The next day, Jillian stood beside the kitchen table and studied the broken ceramic figurine she and Mac had painstakingly repaired. Rather than return the angel broken, they’d decided to take it back to Mr. Iverson in one piece, although at one point, she hadn’t been sure that would be possible. Yesterday, they’d had trouble getting the pieces to attach properly, but the new glue Mac had purchased earlier today had worked much better than they’d expected. A little putty had filled in the gaps and holes, so if their luck held, they would be able to return the angel to Mr. Iverson before heading to Mulberry Park for Christmas Under the Stars. “I think it looks pretty good,” Mac said as he surveyed their handiwork. The paint was chipped and cracked in numerous places, but they’d left those spots alone. Instead, they’d only tried to match the white, gold, and flesh color to cover the putty and the places where they’d glued the arm and halo back together. Tommy tiptoed and c
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve Mac hadn’t needed a crystal ball to figure out who’d shown up at Jillian’s house, and Megan’s enthusiastic response to seeing her daddy had only validated his assumption. “Jared?” Jillian asked, her voice indicating she was every bit as surprised to see her ex-husband as Mac was. “What are you doing here?” The tall, dark-haired man in his late thirties stooped to pick up his daughter. “I came to see you and the kids.” “I realize that,” she said, “but you’re supposed to be on a cruise.” “I flew back early.” Jared’s gaze drifted from Jillian to Mac. “Who are you?” Tommy, whose steps had slowed, didn’t appear to be as happy to see his father as his sister was. “This is Mac, our friend, the cop.” Mac knew he ought to reach out and shake the man’s hand, but he’d rather send him packing instead. Yet while he didn’t feel like making the first move, he did so anyway. “Mac Maguire.” “Jared Ridgeway.” An uncomfortable moment stretched between them, as they assessed each other like
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen When the doorbell rang, Mac was shoving his shaving gear into the top of the black carry-on bag that sat on the bed. He’d packed up his stuff and was ready to take it to the car. The Realtor he’d called earlier had wanted to come by and see the house later this evening, but Mac told her he’d meet with her tomorrow. He wasn’t in the mood for visitors right now, which was why he ignored the bell—until it chimed again. And again. After zipping the canvas bag shut, he made his way to the door. He’d just have to tell whoever was there that he was leaving and didn’t have time to chat or to get involved in another neighborhood dispute. But he hadn’t expected that someone at the door to be Jillian. “Are you still up for Christmas Under the Stars?” she asked. Since he figured her ex-husband’s arrival had altered everyone’s plans, the question caught him off guard. Yet even if it hadn’t, Mac was planning to make an excuse and bow out. Surely, she didn’t expect him to go with all
Chapter Thirteen
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