I promise.
The tears slid down her cheek as the words filled her heart and soul with so much peace and happiness. Never in life did she believe that she would find this contentment.
“I love you, Grey,” she whispered going to him and hugging the man tightly. “You’re my all.”
Greyson rubbed his lips softly across hers. “There’s another journal. I started it today.”
“I don’t deserve you,” she said, honestly. “You’re more than I ever believed possible, too.”
Curtis watched the people he loved embrace and kiss. He understood the difference between what everyone perceived as love, and the real deal. This was it. The big scary ‘Ice King’ had a soft gentle side, and it was the woman sitting in his lap.
This was what he wanted in his life, and knew now that it only took time, patience and the willingness to start the journey.
Breaking the kiss, she stroked his cheek as she gazed into his eyes.
“Oh, and I’m buying a piano too,” he said, grinning. “But I couldn’t wrap it or get it in the door. It’ll be delivered.”
Curtis stared at him. “You’re going to get a piano?”
Greyson told him about the music and how Emma played beautifully.
“The crane has to be rented.”
She stared at him. “What? Wait, you need to rent a crane?”
“And we need to take off the patio glass doors to get it in through the balcony.”
Emma wasn’t sure if he was serious or not. “Grey, do you hear the insanity behind all that?”
He started laughing. “I’ll take care of it while you’re at work. When you get home, there will be a piano.”
Emma shook her head, opting to not fight it. “Okay, you’re next, Grey,” she stated, handing him a thin packet.
When he opened it, he found a catalog with all kinds of provocative women’s things in it.
“You get to pick anything you want out of there for me to wear for you,” she stated, watching his face light up. “Curtis, cover your ears.”
When the man did and began humming, she finished. “All the toys are in the back. You can check out that section too.”
“I get my own drawer full of fun?” he asked, hopefully.
Emma nodded.
“Can I listen now?” Curtis asked.
“Yes, it’s safe,” she replied, laughing.
He looked over at the catalog. “Hey, can I borrow that,” he teased, reaching for it.
“No you may not. I will dust it for fingerprints and black light it, so stay away.”
Briggs snickered. “Man, cut the single guy a break and share your literature. I’d let you borrow mine.”
Emma ignored them both. If she didn't, they’d keep going trying to out tease each other. Getting back to presents, she held out the first of two. “This is part one of your present.”
Greyson took the box and nearly dropped it. The gift was heavy. Opening it, he found a beautifully engraved decanter with the letter ‘C’ on the front of the bottle. “It’s beautiful.”
Emma grinned. “There’s more to it. When we moved here, you picked this condominium because of the view, and didn't get that special place for just you. So, starting next week, there’s a construction crew coming to do a little remodeling.”
“Huh?” he looked around. “What’s to redo?”
Emma continued, “We’re not having kids right now,” she looked over at Curtis, “other than the big one here, so I’m having the spare bedroom converted to an office. You’re getting book shelves, a big old desk that screams ‘master of the manor’ and some leather chairs.”
That appealed to him. “You’re giving me a man den?”
Emma nodded. “Which is where this comes in,” she offered, handing him the last box. “This is my special present to you, so be careful. It’s breakable and very old.”
That intrigued him. Unwrapping it, he pulled the lid off the box. “Emma, how?” He gently lifted the antique humidor out and held it on his lap. “It looks like the one my grandfather used to own.”
She grinned. “It’s actually his. I called your dad and he went digging around in the attic of his home. At first I wanted a picture to buy a replica, but he told me he may still have it.”
Croft ran his fingers over the carved wood.
“You told me that one of your fondest memories was when your grandfather would have a bourbon and cigar after dinner in his office. Now, you don’t have to let that tradition die. You can carry it on.”
He didn't know what to say.
“I had something added to it, and I hope you don’t mind. Read the bottom.”
Gently, he flipped it over and read the silver square that was attached to the old wood.
~~~To the King from his Queen ~~~
He ran his fingers over it. “This is pretty damn incredible. I can’t believe you tracked this down for me.”
“Yeah, well there’s more. But it’s illegal, so anyone who doesn’t want to hear it, cover their ears.” Emma pointed at Briggs.
“Heck no, I want the good stuff,” he said grinning.
Croft looked worried. “What did you do, Emma?”
“I may or may not have asked Randall Mason to procure me a box of really good expensive Cuban cigars to go in your humidor. Unless you’re afraid of going to jail, then we can tell them they belong to Curtis.”
“Hey!” he started laughing. “If I take the wrap, do I get to smoke one?”
Croft lifted a brow.
“Hold one?”
Still, he stared.
“Okay, stare at them from across the room in hopes of one day getting to have a Cuban cigar?”
Greyson started laughing. “You can have the first one out of the box, but you can’t blab. Most men who have humidors have them, but we just don’t talk about it.”
The man bounced.
“You’re allowed to smoke them in your room only,” she reminded him. “Last thing is in the humidor.”
Croft lifted the lid to find a custom engraved cutter and lighter. They too were engraved with the ‘C’. It sat carefully inside on top of some of his favorite cigars.
“I think this is my best Christmas ever,” he said, running his fingers over the box. “Thank you, Emma.”
She grinned. “Anyone want to climb into bed? I hear that there’s a big breakfast planned for tomorrow that may or may not include bacon.”
“I’ll climb into bed with you Emma,” offered Curtis, getting a slap. “Or not.”
She laughed and allowed her husband to pull her to her feet. “Merry Christmas, Curtis,” she offered, hugging him.
“You too, Emma,” he replied, hugging her tightly, and then embracing his friend. “Thanks, Greyson,” he said, heading off with his comic books to cherish them.
“You know that I have the best wife in the world right?” he stated, dropping his arm around her shoulder.
“I’m equally lucky.”
“I get to smoke in the condo? This is a miracle.”
Emma stopped and glanced up into his eyes. “You do, only because the sight of you leaning back in your chair, cigar and drink in your hand turns me on. I figure we can do lots of things in that office of yours, especially on the top of that desk.”
That made him draw up the fantasies in his head, and it forced his body to respond. “You mean we can play powerful FBI director and dutiful secretary?”
Emma giggled. “Oh yes we can, Mr. Director, sir.”
Kissing her, he enjoyed the scent of his wife. As he pulled away, he stared deep into her eyes. “I seem to have a problem that only you can take care of for me, Emma.”
“Well, then I should immediately handle the situation.”
He watched her walk down the hall to their bedroom with her hips swaying and all that wild red hair, and his heart thudded in his chest.
Yeah, Emma was the only one on the entire earth who he ever wanted taking care of his problem.
Repeatedly for t
he rest of his life and until his dying day.
* * *
His breathing was labored, as was hers, when he rolled off her body to stare at the ceiling. The night had been filled with more sex than should be humanly allowed. There just was no way to get enough. Just as Paris thought he’d be satiated, Tessa would stroke his leg or body with gentle fingertips, and he would need her again.
“Wow,” she muttered, starting to giggle.
He wanted to join in, but he was once more lost in the entire over-thinking process.
Again.
“Paris?” she asked, moving towards him to lay her head on his shoulder. “Are you going to lose it and freak out on me?”
He didn't reply.
Part of her was hurt by his silence, but she refused to let it suck her in. What they were sharing was special to her, and if it was only going to be tonight, Tessa was going to keep the positive memories forever.
“This is going to be trouble.”
Well, at least he didn't call it a mistake.
She began leaving kisses across his chest. The way he felt beneath her hands and lips made her body come awake and alive for him. The man just brought out something from deep within her.
“Tessa,” he murmured, as she flicked her tongue over his nipple. “You’re going to end up killing us.”
Tess found that funny as her hands wandered his well-sculpted body. “Since we started working together, I’ve always wondered what was under your suit, and now I know.”
He groaned as she made her way up to his neck and began nipping at it.
“This is going to be a disaster.”
She paused once again and tried to let the hurt go. “Want to make it epic?” she whispered into his ear as she teased the lobe with her teeth. For now, she’d live in the moment with him, since her gut already was screaming a warning at what was to come.
It didn't take long for him to decide.
“God, yes!”
* * *
Quietly, he crept in the darkness of the night to place the women where they needed to be. It had been a fun evening for him, and one he’d remember for years to come. ‘Nice’ had barely struggled and only stared up at him with innocent blue orbs as he cut off the air to her brain. The big eyes clouded and lost lucidity as he took her life on a day signifying the giving of gifts.
She was his and would be forever.
Killing her had stirred his body to the point where temptation almost convinced him to defile her. What he wanted was to take the innocent one and claim her as his own.
As he took her life, ‘naughty’ fought hard to escape. She’d bloodied her wrists and nearly choked herself to death with the chains around her neck. Twice he had to save her, finally seeing the truth.
She was beyond salvation.
As he used her body, she fought, bucking beneath him to survive and yet it did no good. The helpless mewing noises only enflamed him more, making him want to take and take until she was all used up.
The memories filled him with joy.
It was Christmas morning, and he’d had his presents.
Now, he would spread the joy around. There was nothing more that he reveled in, than leaving the gifts for the FBI.
Staging the women, he left the card on the body of ‘nice’. He didn't want it to get all bloody from the mess that he had made of ‘naughty’. He almost wished he could watch them find it in the morning.
Walking away, he laughed and wondered if the FBI would get the connection ever, or if he’d be back again next year to work on his list.
The perverse merriment bubbled up.
Yeah, he’d definitely be back.
* * *
Sunday
Christmas Morning
Greyson stretched and reached for his wife, only to find her missing from bed. She was lucky, because he was going to re-gift the sex present that she had given him right before they fell asleep. Now, he would have to chase her down and make out with her in the living room.
From the confines of their bedroom, he could hear the music and the sounds from the kitchen. It sounded like his wife was up and making Christmas brunch.
It never ceased to amaze him. Croft was astounded at her willingness to cater to him and take care of him. There was no doubt that he had found a true treasure.
Pulling on his lounging pants and a new t-shirt, since his had disappeared, he shuffled out to Emma for some Christmas cheer and maybe a cup of coffee. Already, the smells of breakfast began to fill the house.
“Good Lord! Are you cooking for twenty?” he asked, staring at the muffins and jumbo pitcher of orange juice.
“Do you know your partner?” she asked laughing. “He’s like a teenage boy stuffed into the body of a young man.
Croft chased her around the counter, until he pinned her to the refrigerator. “How about you kiss your husband this morning and give me something to think about all day, Emma? I happen to be a young man in the body of a slightly older one.”
She laughed. “For the record, Mr. Croft, you’re perfect the way you are, and I don’t I think I could keep up with you if you were ten years younger.”
Greyson kissed her, knowing she was the only reason he was ‘spry’. Who wouldn’t want to chase her around the condo half naked? When the day came that he stopped finding that to be one of his hobbies, it was time to call it a life.
“Oh good. Just in time to watch the Christmas grope,” stated Briggs as he strolled in, still in his pajamas.
“For the record, she likes to be chased around. It’s her exercise now that it’s too cold to swim.”
Emma had gone serious at all their teasing. “Greyson, I want something for Christmas.”
That had his attention. Emma wasn’t the kind of woman who ever asked for presents. This was new and worried him a little bit.
“You know you only need to ask me and if I can get it for you, I will. What do you want?”
“Promise me that you won’t be mad?”
That had Briggs attention. He hoped there wasn’t going to be a Christmas day massacre. When Greyson Croft lost his temper, he went way over the edge.
“I promise.”
“Family isn’t always blood right?”
He had no idea where this was going, but he glanced up at his partner sitting at the island. “Family are the ones that you love and let into your circle.”
“Right now, I know of a person sitting alone in his big old mansion. His children are dead, and I’m sure his heart is hurting.”
Why was he surprised? Emma had the biggest heart in the world. “You want to invite Randall Mason into our home?”
Briggs braced for it. The explosion was imminent.
“Yes.”
“Okay, call him.”
Emma grinned.
Briggs started choking on his orange juice. “Holy shit, you just invited the enemy into the encampment?” Wow, this calmness was definitely new.
She kissed him like he deserved and didn't care if the younger agent watched. Emma was well aware how hard it was for Greyson to let anyone into their sanctuary, especially a man he wasn’t sure he trusted.
“Uh, you both are mammals and need to breathe,” Curtis reminded them as he caught the muffin his partner whipped at him. “Great, blueberry.”
That made Emma laugh as she broke the kiss. “I love you. I’ll be right back,” she said, and then turned. “Curtis, get away from the food. I know you and it’ll be gone by the time I return.”
He grinned as she walked away.
Croft was curious. “How are the muffins?” he whispered, afraid to take a chance.
“Horrible,” he said, shoving it in his mouth.
“Why do I think you’re lying to me?” Croft said, staring down at them.
He shrugged. “Must be age related paranoia.”
Randall sat in his office with his coffee, alone. He had given everyone the day off. The old Mason would have them working, just to be at his beck and call. The new man wanted
them to have the holiday with family.
It wasn’t their fault that he was alone in the world.
This screamed of the last years of his life. They were bought with the tears of others, and now he’d pay. Could he blame anyone?
Who would want a man who was heartless and brutal most of his life?
“Oh Aria, I miss you. I really wish you were here still. Then I wouldn’t feel so alone,” he spoke to the painting above the fireplace.
Suddenly, the phone rang.
“Hello,” he answered, not sure who’d be calling him.
“Randall, it’s Emma.”
His heart lightened, as he gazed upon his dead wife’s portrait. “Yes, Emma what can I do for you?”
“I called to wish you a merry Christmas.”
He smiled. “Thank you, and the same to you and your husband. I hope you both had a good evening last night. I enjoyed having you here.”
“It was absolutely lovely. I enjoyed it a great deal.”
“As did I. Is there something you need?”
Emma hesitated. “Yes, there is.”
He wanted to be happy, but the sadness overwhelmed him. “You only need to ask.”
“Greyson and I want you to come over and spend Christmas with us. We don’t do anything fancy. We’re having brunch that I make, and then we planned on watching old Christmas movies and relaxing. Will you join us or are you busy?”
The man wanted to weep. “I would love to join you. Can I bring anything?”
“I’m cooking for twenty, so all you need to do is come hungry. Oh, we are also staying in our pajamas all day. Is that okay?”
He laughed at how much fun that sounded. “I happen to be in mine still.”
“Great,” she said, giving him the address. “Whenever you’re free, come on over. It’s an all-day food fest.”
The man hung up the phone and glanced up at the painting. “I have no doubt you had something to do with this.”
Christmas is Killing (A Croft & Croft Romance Adventure Book 3) Page 28
