She found the turn for the Richardson Highway with no trouble, but when she saw the sign for her final exit, she snorted. The ramp was marked SANTA CLAUS LANE. Good grief. She felt like she was starring in a Charlie Brown Christmas special . . . especially when she passed the sign that said WELCOME TO NORTH POLE, ALASKA.
A few minutes later, amidst an array of cutesy street names like Kris Kringle Drive and Snowman Lane—where the streetlights were candy canes and even gas stations were decorated in the spirit of the holiday season—Hallie pulled to a stop in front of her destination and sighed. She’d come more than two thousand miles and one time zone from Seattle, so she was operating in a mental fog.
The modest-sized building in front of her fit right in with the explosion of holiday mania. It was made of cedar and stone. Christmas lights outlined every available nook and cranny. Victorian gingerbread trim edged the gables and roof. On the lawn, Santa sat jauntily in his sleigh, prepared for the eight plastic reindeer to do all the work. Resin elves, arms upraised, loaded the packages.
When Hallie had glanced briefly at the town’s Web site while preparing for her trip, she’d rolled her eyes when she realized that the seasonal hoopla was not “seasonal” at all. North Pole, Alaska, was dedicated to Christmas cheer all year round.
She sighed. Never had she felt less like celebrating the holidays. But for the next two weeks, she was sentenced to tinsel and eggnog and Lord knew what else. It boggled the mind.
She left her luggage in the car and trudged up the walk. Before dinner last night in Seattle, Hallie’s best friend, Julie, had brought over a set of keys to the Dancing Elves B&B. Julie’s parents owned and operated the lodge, but they were eager to spend the holidays with Julie, so Hallie had agreed to play innkeeper temporarily.
After locating the key marked “front door,” she herself in. The air was filled with the scents of cinnamon and evergreen. An enormous live fir tree, decked out with enough ornaments to bury old Santa himself, presided over the space in front of the bay window. Everywhere Hallie looked—from the walls to the stairs to the floor beneath her feet—knickknacks and doodads and tchotchkes abounded. Christmas was everywhere.
Even that unpleasant realization took a back seat to the much bigger surprise. Santa himself stood not three feet away . . . wearing red pants, black boots, and silver suspenders. His rotund belly had been replaced with granite hard abs, and his shoulders were as wide as Texas.
He was tanned and toned. The smile on his face made Hallie think that being on his naughty list might not be such a bad thing. Her knees actually quivered.
Santa reached out and engulfed Hallie’s cold fingers in a warm, hard grasp. His grip made her want to cling . . . and she was not at all the clingy type. She shook his hand with a businesslike pump and stepped back from temptation. “Who are you?”
The man’s grin was a wicked slash of white in a tanned face that was all sharp angles and masculine lines. “I’m Daniel Reynolds, your semipermanent resident . . . room two. Hazel and Roy asked me to make sure you got settled in.” His brown eyes sparkled with warmth.
Hazel and Roy. Julie’s parents. And yes . . . Hallie did have some faint recollection about a long-term guest, but she hadn’t paid all that much attention. She cleared her throat. “Well, that’s kind of you. I’m Hallie Prentiss. I guess Hazel and Roy told you I’ll be running things for a couple of weeks so they can spend time in Seattle with Julie. I’m supposed to take their room. Can you point me in the right direction?” So I can get on with the bath and the nap, please God.
He ran a hand through his thick, short-cut dark hair, appearing a little frazzled. “Before I do that, I’ve got a huge favor to ask.”
Her heart actually skipped a beat, but she kept her expression calm. “Oh?”
He tapped his stomach, drawing Hallie’s eyes once again to that intriguing expanse of subtle muscle and the arrow of fine, silky hair leading southward to the off-limits area below his large, silver, Santa-inspired belt buckle. “I’m due over at the elementary school in twenty minutes. When I tried on the costume a while ago, I realized I can’t fit behind the steering wheel with the belly in place. I don’t want to chance any little kids seeing me without it, so I was hoping you might drive me over there.”
Hallie tasted desperation. She would give her last Tums for a warm bath and a soft bed. But when Santa called, what was a woman to do? She closed her eyes and did her best not to inhale the insidious scent of Christmas cheer and warm male. But no matter how hard she tried to ignore it, something about this house and this man turned her usual assertive self into a blob of indecision.
“What about the B and B?” she asked, grasping at any reason not to go back out into the cold.
Daniel grinned. “No guests on the books today. We can lock up and head out immediately.”
She was too tired to fight. “No problem,” she lied morosely. “I’d be happy to help a Santa in need.”
* * *
Daniel folded his gut-enhanced body into Hallie’s rental car and smiled to himself. Nothing like an early Christmas present to make a man sit up and take notice. Hallie Prentiss was one long, tall drink of water.
Even travel rumpled and wearing a parka that made her resemble a sky-blue Michelin Man, she was stunning. Her slightly pointed chin saved her beautiful oval face from complete perfection. Her cheekbones were dramatic, her skin pale cream. The smudges of exhaustion beneath her cornflower-blue eyes gave him a moment of guilt, but he really did need her help.
He pointed to the dash. “You might want to turn your lights on. It will be dark pretty soon.”
Hallie slanted an incredulous look in his direction. “It’s barely two o’clock.”
He chuckled. “Did you look up anything about Alaska before you came? We only have around four hours of daylight right now.”
“Four hours . . .” Her voice trailed off, and he could swear she turned white. It was hard to tell in the fading light.
Her eyes were fixed on the road ahead, so he took the opportunity to study her again. She had tidied her waterfall-straight blond hair before they left. He’d seen it down for only a split second before she bundled it back up into a prim, bun-like thing on the back of her head.
Her delicate earlobes sported small gold hoop earrings, and her neck—at least the part he could see in the open collar of her coat—was long and graceful. He felt a stirring of lust and shifted restlessly. Hallie was going to be in town for only a couple of weeks. It was the perfect scenario for some hot and heavy no-strings-attached sex. Hell, he didn’t even know if she was already in a relationship with some lucky guy.
He had yet to see her hands. They were covered in soft white gloves—probably cashmere. From head to toe, Hallie looked like a polished, sophisticated city dweller. He watched her grimace as she hit a pothole. She drove with a quiet confidence that underscored her air of capability.
He broke the silence. “This is a great thing you’re doing for Roy and Hazel—running the inn so they can visit their daughter.”
Hallie shrugged, still not looking at him. “It’s entirely self-serving,” she muttered. “I need the money.”
A more polite man wouldn’t have asked. But Daniel was endlessly fascinated by his new landlady.
“Hmmm,” he said in a teasing voice. “Down payment for a new house? Hush money for the cops? Gambling debts?”
When she finally smiled, he felt like he’d won the lottery. She went from beautiful to knock-your-socks-off gorgeous.
Her grin was wry. “Foreign investors bought the big Seattle hotel where I worked. Ninety percent of us were pink-slipped the Monday after Thanksgiving.”
He winced in sympathy. “Ouch. That sucks.”
She nodded. “My sentiments exactly. Roy and Hazel’s daughter, Julie, is my best friend. She came up with this idea to give her parents a break over the holidays and to provide me with some short-term employment. I just hope my experience working at a four-hundred-room hotel translates into ru
nning a B and B.”
“You’ll be fine.” Daniel glanced at his watch and put on his hat. They were going to make it. “Turn here,” he said.
Hallie parked in a visitor spot. “I’ll wait in the car.”
He shook his head. “No way. You’ll freeze. Come on in. This will be fun.”
* * *
Hallie followed Santa into the building and couldn’t help but smile when every kid in sight, ages five to twelve, screeched a greeting. The teachers were equally welcoming.
The principal was an attractive native Alaskan. She ushered them into the auditorium where small piles of Christmas presents were neatly arranged on the stage. Daniel’s job was to hand them out personally. One of the government agencies in town, along with a men’s club, had provided the largesse.
For the next half hour, loosely organized pandemonium reigned. Hallie would have said that she didn’t have an ounce of Christmas cheer left in her body. But seeing the enthusiasm and wonder on the face of each child who sat on Daniel’s knee to accept a handful of gifts made her misty eyed. He was amazingly gentle with each of them. If children were the bellwethers of decency, then Daniel passed with flying colors.
Hallie had been charged with standing at Daniel’s elbow and as each child finished, providing a reusable bag to carry the gifts. She was tired and her legs ached, but she wouldn’t have missed the young students’ excitement for the world. There was still one more week of school to go before the holidays. Hallie didn’t envy the teachers who had to keep control in the interim.
Finally, it was done. With one last round of waves and ho-ho-hos, Daniel and Hallie left the building.
The sun had indeed gone down, but a pleasant pinkish glow lit up the sky.
Daniel stopped in the parking lot, despite the frigid temperature, and rested his hands momentarily on her shoulders. He squeezed lightly. “Thanks, Hallie. You make a great elf.”
She felt his fat belly bump her stomach. “You’re very welcome,” she said, not bothering to hide her smile. “It was fun.”
Something charged the air around them. A scientist might have called it static electricity. Hallie was pretty sure it was anticipation. But though she’d learned a lot about Santa in her twenty-eight years, she knew nothing at all about Daniel Reynolds.
She took the car keys from her pocket and fumbled awkwardly to unlock the door. Romantic moments in Alaska came with a price. Possible hypothermia.
Both she and Daniel were quiet on the short trip back. When they arrived at the B&B, he insisted on carrying in her two bags and showing her the master suite. Hazel and Roy’s quarters were comfortable and tidy. Fortunately, they must have run out of Christmas decorations before they got to their own room. Except for a holly-ap-pliquéd hand towel in the bathroom and a small ceramic tree with tiny plastic lights on the dresser, the room was pleasantly neutral in decor.
Daniel set Hallie’s bags in front of the closet and started unfastening the big black buttons down his front. He did it unselfconsciously, tossing aside the pillow and sliding his arms out of the jacket and suspenders. All the while, he checked on things . . . the wall heater, the carafe of water on the nightstand, the latch on the window.
At last, he seemed satisfied. He turned to Hallie and stretched his arms over his head. She saw muscles ripple and flex. “I know you’re beat,” he said, “but I owe you dinner for today. Why don’t you rest for a while, and then we’ll go out around seven?”
“Sounds great.” He hadn’t really given her a chance to refuse, but did she want to? Even though she was exhausted, starvation ran a close second. She took off her coat and tossed it on the chair. When she turned back around, Daniel’s eyes had glazed over. His face was almost as red as his Santa pants. He dragged his gaze away from her bust. “Well, okay, then.”
Was his voice hoarse?
He slid toward the door. “I guess I’d better let you sleep.” He seemed reluctant to leave.
“Yeah. I’m dead on my feet.”
He nodded slowly, his gaze warm and intimate. “Welcome to Alaska, Hallie,” he said in a low voice, and then he was gone.
* * *
Daniel stripped and got in the shower to wash off the sweat. Being Santa was damned hard work. And speaking of hard . . . he put his hand on his aching sex and closed his eyes. Visions of Hallie, a woman he’d known for less than a day, filled his mental screen.
He’d nearly made a fool of himself back there in her bedroom. When she took off her coat and he’d seen her kick-ass body for the first time, he’d known in an instant what his Christmas wish would be. He wanted Hallie Prentiss. Her legs, clad in tight indigo denim jeans, were long and sexy. The way her generous breasts filled out that wine silk turtleneck . . . damn. A man could write a sonnet about them . . . or at least create a good fantasy. He ran with that last thought as he continued to stroke himself. He squeezed his eyes shut when he came, imagining Hallie smiling at him, riding him.
Since he knew that getting accustomed to Alaska’s twenty hours of darkness would be easier if Hallie stayed on a normal schedule, he would let her sleep only a couple of hours. He was dressed and ready far too early, so he dealt with some e-mail and replaced a couple of light bulbs upstairs.
Finally, he decided it was okay to wake Hallie. The door to her room wasn’t shut all the way. He eased it open and whispered her name. The lump beneath the covers didn’t move. He wondered if she had undressed before climbing in bed, but he didn’t see her jeans and top anywhere. Only her coat.
Poor thing. He felt guilty for shanghaiing her into being his chauffeur earlier, but it had been fun to have her along. Clearly, though, the stress of losing her job had given her some sleepless nights.
He inched closer to the bed. “Hallie?” It was almost six thirty, and he figured she probably needed time to get ready. He planned to take her to a nice restaurant in Fairbanks. The city was only a fifteen-minute drive away. The choices of eating establishments there were more numerous than in the town of North Pole.
He started to get concerned. Surely no one slept that deeply. Not during the daytime at least. Even if it was dark outside.
“Hallie?” He touched her shoulder. No response. He shook her gently. “Hallie?”
She yelped and sat straight up in bed. The top of her head made contact with the bottom of his jaw, and he staggered back, reeling as he saw stars. He nearly bit through his tongue.
As he caught his breath, the lights came on, permitting him to focus on Hallie’s indignant face. She glared at him, pulling the sheet to her chin despite the fact that she was fully clothed. “What in the heck are you doing in my room?”
He flung his arms wide. “I was trying to wake you up so you wouldn’t miss dinner.”
Her eyes narrowed. “What time is it?”
“Six thirty. I thought you might want to do some woman stuff before we leave.”
She threw back the covers and drew her knees to her chest. “Woman stuff?”
He shrugged helplessly. “You know . . . lip gloss, primping, whatever. . .”
He trailed off as her eyes shot blue sparks at him.
“I do not primp. That is a demeaning word.”
Now his own temper boiled over. “It sure the hell is not. I don’t even know you, Hallie Prentiss. I was trying to be nice. So shoot me.”
“Don’t tempt me,” she muttered.
“Are you always this cranky when you wake up?”
She wrinkled her nose and rubbed the top of her head. “Your chin hurt me.”
He snorted. “Your head hurt me,” he shot back, not willing to be the bad guy.
She yawned hugely. “Maybe I’ll skip dinner,” she grumbled, falling back against the pillows.
Daniel was far too tempted to join her. So instead, he got tough. “No way. I’ll expect you by the front door in twenty-five minutes.”
He was honestly surprised when she showed up. He’d known her all of five hours, and already he sensed she could be as stubborn as he was .
. . and that was saying something.
But he was smart enough not to comment on her punctuality.
They were in his car this time, and for Hallie’s benefit, he cranked the heater up full blast. She had covered every available inch of her body with winter clothing.
He put the car in gear. “You can take your coat off if you want to.... It’s plenty warm in here.”
Her voice was muffled by the thick scarf she had wrapped around her neck. It sounded like she said something sarcastic, but he was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt.
As they reached the outskirts of Fairbanks, she finally shed the scarf. But nothing else. He grinned. “You aren’t a vegetarian, are you?”
Hallie’s stomach growled audibly. “No. But I’m not eating moose meat . . . just so you know.”
He chuckled. “We’ll stick to beef for the moment.”
Over steak dinners, Daniel learned more about her. She was type A. She liked beaches rather than mountains. Her favorite music was country. And most importantly, she was unencumbered in the romantic sense of the word.
He sipped his wine and leaned back in his seat. “The men in Seattle must be blind and stupid.”
Hallie flushed slightly. “I’ve had plenty of offers. But I was on the fast track to assistant manager. Working sixty and seventy hour weeks. I decided there was plenty of time in the future for relationships. I was determined to establish my career first.” She grimaced. “A pitiful cliché, right? And look what it got me. One month’s severance package, and a Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.”
Daniel studied her face. Her expression was guarded, but her eyes told the story. They were bleak. He set down his glass, leaned back in his chair, and crossed his arms over his chest. “You do realize that what happened to you was in no way a personal failure.”
Her eyes narrowed, her chin at a mulish angle. “Feels like it from where I’m sitting,” she muttered.
He opted for humor. “Have you ever wondered why getting laid off is so much worse than getting laid?”
By Firelight Page 9
