Temptation at Christmas

by Maureen Child

  “That’s great. Talk to her about whatever it is she needs to tell you. And when you’re done, keep talking.”

  “What am I supposed to say?”

  “Wow. This is embarrassing. You’re my big brother. And you can’t figure out how to talk to a woman you were married to?” Michael took a breath and sighed it out. “Maybe you could tell her you miss her.”

  He straightened up. “What would be the point? She left me, remember?”

  Sam remembered it well and didn’t really want to revisit the memory.

  “Yeah, I remember. Did you ever ask yourself why?”

  “The reason doesn’t matter. She left. I moved on. Done.”

  “Sure you did,” Michael said. “Talk to her anyway. Maybe you’ll surprise each other.”

  Sam snorted. “I don’t like surprises.”

  “How are we related again?”

  In spite of everything, Sam grinned and stared out at the ocean. “Beats the hell outta me.”

  “Me, too,” Mike said, laughing. “Good luck on the cruise. I hope Mia drives you insane.”

  “Thanks.”

  “No problem—oh and Sam, Merry Christmas!”

  “Not funny.”

  “Yeah it is,” Mike said, still laughing as he hung up.

  Then Sam was alone with the wind, the sea...and the faint sounds of Christmas carols drifting up from the lower deck. Just perfect.

  * * *

  The Buchanan cruise ships were much smaller than the mega ships most companies sailed these days.

  Instead of thousands of people crowding a ship that offered sometimes very small cabins, there were only two hundred passengers total on a Buchanan ship and each cabin was a suite that didn’t make one feel as if the walls were closing in.

  But, Mia thought, it also meant that she felt the movement of the ocean more than she might on the bigger ships. Some people didn’t care for that, but she loved it. She’d discovered her sea legs on the first cruise she’d taken—when she’d met Sam and her whole life had changed.

  A year ago, she’d fallen in love and felt that the cruise was almost magical. Now, the magic was gone, but she was once again sailing on a cruise with the man she had believed was her future. She’d been foolish, believing that love at first sight was real and substantial and that the two of them together could do anything.

  It hadn’t taken long before Mia had realized that it wasn’t the two of them. It was just her. Alone in a beautiful home with a man who seemed reluctant to do anything to save their marriage.

  “Mrs. Buchanan.”

  Mia looked up to smile at one of the crew she knew from other cruises. About thirty, the man had blond-streaked brown hair, green eyes and wore the short-sleeved red polo shirt and white slacks that were the Fantasy Cruise Line uniform.

  “Nice to have you aboard,” he said.

  “Thank you, Brandon,” she answered, and didn’t bother correcting him about the whole Mrs. Buchanan thing. Because honestly, until Sam signed those papers, she was Mrs. Buchanan, watching him as he hurried past intent on whatever he was doing.

  Brandon walked away at top speed and she watched him go. She had to wonder how many of this crew she knew from her time with Sam. And she knew that even if Brandon was the only familiar face, by the time the cruise was over, she would know most of them.

  Smaller ships meant a higher than usual crew to passenger ratio. At the end of the fourteen-day trip to Hawaii, the Fantasy Nights would feel like a small, insular village, where everyone knew everyone else.

  “There’s an upside and a downside to that though,” she murmured and continued along the deck to the nearby staircase. Gossip would fly through the ship. And no doubt people would be talking about her and Sam, just as they had talked about them a year before on that first cruise.

  Shaking her head, she ordered herself to stop thinking about Sam and try to enjoy being on the ship, seeing the ocean stretch out forever. Feeling the wind on her face and through her hair and listening to the distant shrieks and laughter of the kids onboard.

  Christmas was stamped all over the sleek boat and she knew that had to be irritating to Sam. He didn’t like the holiday at all and had only grudgingly accepted not only their Christmas themed wedding, but the Christmas tree she’d brought into their condo last year.

  Since he was a kid, Christmas had been an exercise in emptiness. Sam’s world was so wildly different from anyone else’s that he never even tried to explain what it was about that holiday that left him feeling hollowed out. Who would understand?

  Thinking back on it now, Mia wondered if the fact that he didn’t like Christmas was part of the reason they just hadn’t worked out. Well, maybe not the reason. But certainly a sign of things to come. She loved Christmas and everything it promised—hope, joy, love. And Sam tended toward the dark side.

  Even as that thought registered, she shook her head. It wasn’t as if he was some evil mastermind or something—but he was more cynical than she was. More likely to see the downside than the up. Which was strange, since he was a masterful businessman and didn’t you have to be optimistic to run a multimillion-dollar company?

  She caught herself as she started going down the all too familiar path of trying to figure out Sam. It was an exercise in futility because the man simply didn’t let anyone in long enough to actually know him.

  “You’ve already spent months trying to figure Sam out, Mia,” she lectured herself. “It’s too late now, so just give it up already.”

  Taking a deep breath, Mia let go of the convoluted thoughts roiling through her mind and instead focused on where she was at the moment. Even though the reason for taking this cruise was a hard one, there was no reason she couldn’t appreciate her surroundings.

  There were brass pots displaying poinsettias bolted to the deck. Pine garlands were strung along the railings and the cushions on the chairs and lounges were a bright red and white. She smiled to herself as she realized that the whole ship felt like a Christmas snow globe, with the decorations and the happy people trapped inside the glass, just waiting for a giant hand to give it a shake.

  The only way it could have been more perfect was if she didn’t have to face her ex-husband and tell him they weren’t as “ex” as they’d both believed. But she was only on this ship to confront Sam and get this whole thing settled, so the best thing she could do was to just get on with it.

  Mia had plans, starting in January and she had to get this taken care of before she could move forward. She was tired of standing still. She wanted a future and the only way she was going to get it was to build it herself.

  And still, as she made her way along the deck, Mia looked out at the sea, and paused briefly to watch the waves froth. She heard the slap of the water against the keel and took a deep breath of the cold, salty air. She smiled, in spite of the turmoil grumbling inside her.

  Her family was upstairs in the atrium, no doubt huddled around the cookies and hot chocolate. She knew Maya’s kids, Charlie and Chris, were already planning to explore the Snow Room that had been set up for children’s play. Artificial snow, made just for the holiday cruise, was going to be very popular, especially with California kids who didn’t get many chances to throw a snowball.

  She kept walking, taking the stairs up, because it was faster than going inside and waiting for an elevator. Besides, she thought, as she looked out at the ocean, you didn’t get a view from an elevator.

  But no matter what she tried to tell herself about the view, the truth was, she was stalling. The thought of talking to Sam again had her unsettled. Off-balance. He’d always made her feel that way, though. It looked to her like nothing had changed.

  On the top deck, Mia walked toward the owner’s suite. She knew exactly where it was, because that suite was positioned in exactly the same spot on every Buchanan ship. The closer she came to that wide, cl
osed door though, the more her stomach jittered and the faster her heart raced.

  “Damn it.”

  This should be easier. She’d cried Sam out of her system months ago. Their marriage was over. So why the hell could the very thought of him make her want to go all gooey?

  “Because apparently, I have a masochistic streak,” she muttered, then knocked before she could talk herself out of it.

  When Sam opened the door, her gaze went straight to his. That cool, pale blue was fixed on her as if she were the only thing in the universe. Mia sighed. Sam was the one man who had ever looked at her like that. As if nothing else, in that moment, mattered. The only man who could make her knees weak with a glance. The only man who made her want to crawl into his bed and never leave it.

  Which is exactly why you’re in this mess, her mind whispered.

  A year ago, she’d followed her heart—and her hormones—and had married the man of her dreams. Only to watch those dreams crumble into dust.

  She kept that thought at the forefront of her mind as she said, “Hello, Sam.”

  Nodding sharply, Mia walked past him into the well-appointed suite. Her gaze swept the room in spite of the reason she was there. How could she not admire the space? The view of the sea, provided by the French doors and the wall of glass, was immense. It reminded her of the view from his condo at the beach, only here, she was much closer to that ocean, almost a part of it.

  Breathtaking. And so was the rest of the room. Hardwood floors, jewel-toned rugs scattered across the honey-colored planks. A couple of sofas, that looked soft enough to sink into and easy chairs drawn together, facing the view that demanded attention.

  “Well please,” Sam muttered from behind her. “Come in.”

  She whirled around to face him, mindful of keeping a few feet of space between them. “Sam. We’ve got a problem.”

  “I don’t think we have anything anymore.”

  He folded his arms over his broad, muscular chest and dipped his head down to stare at her. It was a technique he used. That professor-to-stupid-student glare. And as often as he might have used it on everyone else, that look had never worked on her before and it didn’t now, either.

  “You’re wrong,” she said shortly.

  One eyebrow lifted.

  She still didn’t know how he did that.

  “Okay,” she said, “here it is. You know how we signed the divorce papers?”

  “I recall,” he said flatly.

  “And we overnighted them in?”

  “How about we get to the point?” His arms dropped to his sides. “What’s this about, Mia?”

  “Well, it seems we aren’t as divorced as we thought we were.”

  * * *

  Sam’s brain short-circuited.

  That was the only explanation for him being unable to think of a damn thing to say in response. Of course, it might have been being so close to Mia that was shutting his brain down, but that didn’t make him feel any better about the situation.

  The whole idea of what she was saying was preposterous. Ridiculous. He’d accepted his failure. Forced himself to acknowledge that he’d hurt the one woman in the world he valued. He’d lived through it, put it behind him.

  Of course they were divorced.

  But if they weren’t...something that might have been hope rose up in him briefly, but Sam squashed it in an instant. No. Screw that, he wasn’t going down that road. They were divorced. It was over.

  “How is that possible?” He shook his head and held up one hand. “No. Never mind. It’s not possible,” he finally blurted.

  “Apparently, it is.” Mia tucked both hands into the pockets of her white slacks, then pulled them free again.

  Sam wasn’t surprised. She’d always used her hands when she talked. And she did now.

  Waving her left hand, he noticed the absence of her wedding rings and felt a twinge—of what, he didn’t know. He wondered what she’d done with the gold, diamond-crusted band and the matching engagement ring he’d given her. Wasn’t his business, of course, and simple curiosity would have to wait for another time. But it surprised him to note that it bothered him to see her not wearing the damn things.

  Besides, he had to hear what she was saying rather than concentrating on her hands or the way that emerald-green silk shirt made her eyes an even richer, deeper green than usual. Her golden-red hair was long and loose laying across her shoulders, sliding against her neck and it was all Sam could do to keep from reaching out and touching her.

  “So it turns out the overnight driver who was supposed to deliver our divorce papers to the court...”

  “What?”

  “He didn’t.” She shrugged helplessly. “He had a heart attack at work and when they went in to clean out his apartment, they found mountains of undelivered mail. The poor guy was a hoarder, I guess, and kept most of the packages he was supposed to deliver.”

  Sam couldn’t believe this.

  “Apparently, they even found forty-year-old Cabbage Patch dolls!” She shook her head and sighed. “Poor little kids never got the dolls they wanted.”

  “Seriously?” he asked. “You’re worried about kids who are now in their fifties or sixties?”

  “Well, yes.” She frowned at him and lifted both hands in a helpless shrug. “People are slowly being notified about this mess and I got word just last week.”

  “Last week?” She’d known they were still married for a week? “Why the hell didn’t they notify me?”

  “Probably because it was my name on the return address on the priority envelope.”

  Sam took a few long strides, taking him further away from the woman watching him so closely, then he turned around to face his wife. Not ex. Wife.

  Scrubbing both hands across his face, he then let his hands fall to his sides. “So we’re still married.”

  “I know what you’re feeling. I couldn’t believe it either. So now you see the problem.”

  He slowly walked toward her. “I see a problem, yeah. What I don’t see is the big emergency that caused Michael to dump passengers off this cruise to make room for you and your family.” Staring down into her eyes, he watched her closely as he asked, “Why the hell was it so important you get on this cruise to tell me something you could have handled back home with a damn phone call?”

  She tipped her head back to look up at him. “This really isn’t something I wanted to do over the phone and you were in Germany last week. This cruise was the first chance I had to talk to you in person.”

  “Okay. I get that.” He hadn’t exactly been easy to get a hold of lately. Since he and Mia had split up, Sam had kept even busier than he had been before and he wouldn’t have thought that possible. Traveling, working, staying away from home as much as possible because the emptiness of his condo echoed with memories he’d rather not think about.

  Mia kept her gaze on his as she dipped one hand into her black leather purse and drew out an envelope. Holding it out to him, she said, “My attorney drew up a new set of papers—same as the others. All you have to do is sign them and when we get home, I’ll take them to the courthouse myself.”

  He looked at the envelope but didn’t make a move to take it. They were still married. He didn’t know how he felt about that. Michael had been right, Sam had missed Mia. More than he had expected. More than he wanted to admit. And now she was back. But nothing had changed. This delay in ending their marriage only meant the pain of failure would be drawn out.

  “Why can’t they just use the first set of papers?” he asked suddenly. “Why the need for new ones?”

  “I don’t know...” She waved her left hand again. “My lawyer thought it would be best this way and really? After I heard all about this, I didn’t ask a lot of questions. I just want to get this done and over.”

  Looking into those forest-green eyes of hers, Sam
felt a punch of heat and regret slam into him. Didn’t matter that she’d left him. He thought that he would probably always want her. For the last few months, he’d tried to push her out of his mind. He’d traveled the world and still the memory of her had chased him. And now she was here, standing in front of him and it was all he could do to keep from reaching for her. Hell, they were still married. They had a fourteen day cruise stretching out in front of them. Why shouldn’t they spend that time together? Call it one last hurrah? She wanted divorce papers signed. So, maybe they could make a deal, he thought suddenly. That all depended on just how important this divorce was to her.

  “You seem pretty eager,” he said.

  Her gaze narrowed on his. “Sam, we were done months ago. This is just the final step—one we thought we’d already taken. Why wouldn’t I want it all finished?”

  “No reason,” he muttered, wondering if a deal was a bad idea. Of course it was a bad idea—but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t suggest it. He had to silently admit that it stung to see how impatient she was to cut him loose. He could remember a time when all they wanted was to be together. Hell, he still wanted that. And he could see from the heat in her eyes that she felt the same.

  They were still married.

  He was here, with his wife, and suddenly, divorce seemed light-years away. Moving in closer, he saw her take a deep breath and hold it and knew she was feeling the same pull he was. Her eyes were flashing, her lips parted as her breath came in short puffs.

  “What’re you doing?” Her voice came out in a strained whisper.

  “I’m saying hello to my wife,” he countered and gave her a half smile.

  She slapped one hand to his chest. “The fact that we’re still married is a technicality.”

  “Always liked technicalities.”

  Especially this one. Hell, even knowing their marriage was over didn’t get rid of the desire pulsing inside him. The ache he’d carried around in the center of his chest was easing now because she was here. Because her scent had wrapped itself around him. And one look into her eyes told him she felt the same, though knowing Mia, she’d never admit to that.