Sweet Cinderella (A Christmas Novella) (The Klaus Brothers Book 4)

by penny watson

  She laughed. “You don’t look like the Grinch.”

  “I feel like the Grinch. I spend my days rushing to meetings and worrying about the bottom line of Klaus Enterprises. It’s not very festive.”

  Hannah didn’t like the bleak look on his face. “You must have some special traditions.”

  Gregor was jostled by the crowd, and he put a protective hand on her lower back. The hot brand of his touch through her dress made her gasp. Her physical reaction to Gregor Klaus was unexpected. And overwhelming. And thrilling.

  “We do. We get together at my parents’ house, north of the city. It’s more conducive to an old-fashioned Christmas,” he said.

  “How do you celebrate?” she asked.

  “Nicholas and Lucy are professional chefs. They always prepare us a decadent meal. Oskar is in charge of recreation. He usually organizes a snowboarding competition. Wolfgang hands out the gifts. He picks up handcrafted items from his travels. And Sven is always exhausted by the end of Christmas since he’s in charge of toy production. He usually passes out in front of the fireplace after a hot toddy.”

  She laughed. “That sounds perfectly lovely.”

  “I have a big, boisterous family. It makes get-togethers interesting, to say the least.”

  “Do any of your brothers have children? It’s easy to get caught up in the magic of the holiday when there are kids in the mix. Their excitement is infectious.”

  “Nicholas and Lucy just had a baby. And my brother Oskar and his wife adopted a little . . . girl recently.” He paused. “I imagine Christmas morning will be a big deal now.”

  She took another sip of her eggnog. “Oh, yes. Christmas morning is wonderful with the kids. The look on my boys’ faces is worth everything. All the hard work and preparation for that day.” She swayed a bit, and Gregor put a supportive arm around her.

  “Too much eggnog?” He sounded worried.

  “I’m fine. Maybe I drank it too fast.”

  “Why don’t we wander around the library to clear your head? I think that eggnog packed a punch.” He tightened his arm around her waist.

  Hannah melted against his side. “I think you’re right,” she said. “I would love to explore. It looks dreamy tonight.”

  They entered a hallway lined with candles and Christmas lights, which flickered in the darkness. At the end of the hall was an enormous tree, draped with gold beaded garlands and crystal balls. Guests were hanging ornaments onto the boughs. The tree was tagged with donation promises and hand-made decorations by the Children’s Literacy group.

  Hannah watched as an old woman attempted to string an ornament onto the tree. She fumbled a bit and huffed out an exasperated breath. No one was paying her any attention. She wasn’t dressed in couture clothes or adorned with diamonds. Just a simple black dress, and her gray hair was pulled back in a bun. She reminded Hannah of her mother.

  She glanced up at Gregor. “Excuse me for a minute.” Hannah stepped over to the old woman and held out her hand. “Do you need some help?”

  The woman turned to her and smiled. “Why, yes. I would love some help. Thank you, dear.”

  Hannah took the ornament. The words “In Loving Memory of Harold Smith” were inscribed on the paper.

  “Are you making a donation?” Hannah asked.

  The old woman nodded. “Yes, in my late husband’s name. I met Harold here, at the library, forty-seven years ago. Can you believe that? So many years ago.” Her eyes filled with tears.

  Hannah gently placed the decoration on the tree. “You met at the library? That’s so sweet.”

  “Yes, I was reading Pride and Prejudice, and he was studying for his final exams. We struck up a conversation.”

  “That’s a lovely way to meet.”

  “It certainly was. And we were married a year later, on Christmas Day.”

  Hannah sighed. “Oh. That’s romantic. What a wonderful story.”

  The old woman laughed. “Yes, a true story.” She patted Hannah on the hand. “Thank you for helping me. Merry Christmas.”

  Hannah turned to Gregor and found him staring at her intently.

  “Sorry. She needed some help . . .”

  His dark eyes flashed at her. “You are truly filled with holiday good will, Hannah. How did you get so addicted to Christmas?”

  A tiny face with pointed ears and a green felt hat topped with bells.

  A miniature hand clutching a candy cane.

  A secret friendship that lasted for a moment, but cemented her belief in Christmas magic forever.

  She shook off the memories. “My Uncle Dominic has a lot of anxiety dealing with the outside world, especially crowds. One year, we discovered that holiday music calmed him down. He plays the flute—beautifully—and we started to listen to holiday music all the time. And even though my parents are dealing with their own difficulties, the holidays were always a special time for us. No matter what.”

  Gregor stopped walking. “It sounds like you have a very supportive family. That’s a gift.”

  She nodded just as her phone began to vibrate in her clutch. She opened her bag, and the cheap tiara fell to the floor. Gregor leaned down to retrieve it.

  “You don’t want to lose this,” he teased.

  She shrugged in embarrassment. “My boys gave it to me. They thought I looked like a princess. I don’t think fake jewels can compete with the real diamonds here tonight.”

  Gregor’s expression turned serious. “You do look like a princess. And you don’t need diamonds to prove it.”

  Hannah blushed at his words. She checked her messages, which were just reassurances from the babysitter, and tucked her phone away.

  “Everything okay?” Gregor asked.

  “Yes. I don’t go out much, so the boys aren’t used to the babysitter.”

  “I’m glad you’re here tonight.” Gregor pushed a strand of hair off her face.

  Hannah couldn’t hold back the sigh of pleasure from his simple touch.

  Gregor’s nostrils flared and he bent his head toward her. She could tell from the expression on his face he was done talking.

  “Hannah, I want to kiss you.”

  Could this really be happening? Gregor Klaus wanted to kiss her? Boring old Hannah?

  “I know I’m rushing things. Tell me if you don’t want this. Tell me—”

  “I want this.” Her voice trembled, and she waited for the touch of his lips. If this was her one night of pleasure, she wanted his kiss.

  Gregor’s eyes grew hooded.

  The kiss was heaven. Pure. Ecstasy. His lips were soft and insistent. The brush of his beard was the sexiest thing she’d ever felt. She moaned quietly as his mouth explored her. Gently, slowly.

  “So. Sweet.”

  She was vaguely aware of his ragged voice as his tongue danced over her lips.

  She cupped his strong jaw and stroked his silky beard.

  Gregor tilted her head and deepened their kiss. His hands brushed her cheekbones and he followed his fingers with kisses. All over her face. On her mouth. On her neck.

  He trailed his lips trailed along her bare shoulders. She could hear his tortured breathing. “You are beyond delicious. I knew you would be. From the first second I saw you across the room. So soft and sweet and innocent. You taste like gingerbread, Hannah. I’m addicted already.”

  She pulled his face to hers and kissed him again. “You taste like brandy and holiday magic.”

  “I do? Are you sure? Not frosty and cold? I feel like an iceman most of the time.”

  “No. You taste like fire to me.”

  His expression became instantly fierce. “Take my fire, Hannah. All of it.”

  She looked like an angel. He had no business seducing an angel. He ruthlessly pushed that thought aside.

  Her kisses were bliss. Sweet, like her.

  They clung to each other in the empty hallway, surrounded by dim candlelight and echoes of distant revelry. Over and over again he devoured her . . . lips and bare skin, even
over her closed eyelids and the tip of her nose. He caressed every silky bit of her gown, trying to reach the heat underneath.

  She saw the goodness in everything . . . even Manhattan during the most cutthroat commercial season of the year. She was genuinely filled with kindness and compassion. She helped a stranger—the old woman—without a second thought.

  And he was ice cold. Some would say soulless.

  He should just walk away.

  He should.

  He slid his arms around her waist and tightened his grip.

  Mine.

  “Klaus? Is that you? I can’t believe Johnson Toys went out of business last week. Right before Christmas. Insane.”

  Gregor heard the voice behind him and could barely contain his anger and frustration. Hannah jumped and pulled away from him.

  He turned slowly. “Brenton. Not in the mood to talk shop right now.” His voice was razor-sharp.

  Brenton raised a brow. “Uh, sorry. I didn’t realize you were . . . um . . . busy.” He shot Gregor an embarrassed smile when he spied Hannah hiding behind him.

  Gregor tried to get rid of his colleague while keeping an eye on Hannah. She had taken a step back and was rubbing her swollen lips. He ached to pull her back into his arms.

  “I heard Raussen had massive layoffs. Any idea what happened there?” Brenton was either being deliberately obtuse or was a complete idiot.

  Hannah took the phone out of her purse and scanned the messages. She looked worried.

  “No idea, Brenton.”

  She stuffed the phone back into her bag and sent Gregor an anguished look. She shook her head and began to walk away.

  Gregor snatched her arm. “What are you doing?” His voice lashed like a whip.

  “I have to go.”

  “No.”

  “Hey, Klaus, are you going to introduce me to your friend?”

  When Gregor saw the lascivious look on Brenton’s face, he wanted to smash it to pieces. He wanted to hide Hannah from the bastard’s prying eyes.

  “I have to go home. Now. Andi has already left. She just texted me. And Matteo had a bad dream, and I wasn’t there. I was here. What kind of mother am I?” Hannah’s voice cracked.

  Gregor shook his head. “I’ll take you home . . .”

  She wrenched her arm from his grip. “No, this was . . . silly. You and I . . . there’s no way. I don’t even know what I was thinking. I have to go home. Back to the real world.”

  Her face was so expressive, it was killing him. Filled with longing and guilt. All the while her mouth was still swollen from his kisses.

  “Aren’t you pretty?” Brenton actually licked his lips while watching Hannah.

  Gregor balled his hand into a fist. He was going to hit him. He couldn’t help himself. He grabbed Brenton’s holiday tie and dragged him forward.

  He was vaguely aware of the sound of Hannah’s shoes flying along the library floor.

  Brenton held up his hands in a defensive gesture. “Sorry, man. No need for violence. I didn’t realize you were involved . . .”

  Gregor turned just in time to see Hannah disappear around the corner. Dammit! Gregor chased after her. Down the corridor. Into the foyer. Past the band and the crowds of people. Out the front doors.

  A flash of green on the library steps caught his eye. He raced down the stairs, desperate to catch her. “Hannah!” He bellowed her name.

  She ignored him and disappeared into a long black limousine. She struggled with the door, and her shoe fell off and clattered onto the sidewalk. Then the door slammed shut, and the limo roared down the street.

  “Hannah!” Gregor watched the car disappear in a sea of traffic on Fifth Avenue. He reached down and picked up the sexy satin pump. Hannah’s shoe. All he had left of her.

  Son of a bitch.

  He didn’t even know her last name.

  Chapter 4

  “Shirley Fredericka Brinkerhoff!”

  Shirley tried to hide behind the nearest Christmas tree. “Y—Yes?”

  “WHY WEREN’T YOU AT ELF PRACTICE?”

  Augustus Fromm frothed at the mouth. That was never a good sign.

  “Um. Uh. So sorry. Actually . . .”

  “Nein! I don’t want to hear your excuses anymore!”

  “But I have a really good excuse this time. I spent all night thinking it up.”

  Master Fromm’s left eyelid twitched.

  Also a bad sign.

  “I have no interest in listening to your ridiculous stories. About poker games and Yeti contests and building an ice sculpture of the USS Enterprise—”

  “FYI, it was actually the Millennium Falcon, not the Enterprise—”

  Augustus raised his voice. “Nor do I care about your friends or family or cousins or—”

  “It’s not my fault I have a big social life—”

  “Silence!” Master Fromm took in huge gulps of air.

  She never could understand why he got so bent out of shape about her slight behavioral infractions.

  Slight! Really!

  “You have failed Basic Elf Behaviors. Again. For the seventy-third time.” Augustus closed his eyes and sighed. “But today we are not going to discuss your poor academic performance. Today we are going to discuss . . . Gregor Klaus.”

  She frowned. “Gregor? Why? Maybe he needs some fashion pointers?” She giggled at her own joke. Shirley had a reputation for dressing in one-of-a-kind hipster outfits. Today’s ensemble included a red plaid bustier, black mini skirt, thigh high stockings with combat boots, a hand-knit beanie, ear cuffs in gold and silver, and her most prized possession—waist-length curls dyed teal, blue, and magenta. She looked like a million bucks.

  Gregor Klaus dressed like a Grade A dud. From Dudsville. Navy blue suits and power ties. Yawn.

  “Why are we going to discuss Gregor Klaus?” She froze in a panic. “You’re not making me take . . . finance again? Are you? Oh no!” She cried out in frustration.

  Augustus shuddered. “Absolutely not. Master Dittner is still recovering from last semester. No, for some inexplicable reason, Gregor Klaus has asked to see you. In the Sudenwelt. In Manhattan. A Magik sleigh will take you there immediately.”

  “Huh. That’s weird.” For the life of her, she could not come up with one single reason why the Director of Finance would want to speak to her.

  “And Shirley . . .”

  “Yes, Master Fromm.”

  “Just remember. Gregor Klaus does not suffer fools lightly.” He stalked away, clearly dismissing his worst student.

  She scratched her head and then quickly repaired her curls.

  Why in the world would Gregor Klaus want to see her?

  “You’re Shirley Fredericka Brinkerhoff?” Gregor Klaus peered at a file on his desk. Shirley was seated in front of him, next to a tabletop that was shockingly void of knickknacks. Not one personal item. Nothing.

  Dudsville!

  Her work space at home was covered with Christmas doodads and scented candles and curling irons and sequin hair clips and pictures of One Direction and chocolate candies. Well, a lot of stuff.

  Shirley really loved her stuff.

  Clearly, Gregor Klaus did not. His entire office was like an empty tomb. Grey and lifeless and boring as hell. Maybe he wanted to hire her as an interior decorator? She perked up a bit at that intriguing idea.

  “You’re probably wondering why I asked to see you.” Gregor’s voice sounded strained.

  “Um, yeah. To redecorate your office?”

  Gregor frowned. “No.”

  “You want a new look? We can jazz up that whole business power suit thing!”

  He shook his head. “No.”

  “Okay. I’m out of ideas. Why am I here?”

  “You have a reputation.” He paused. “Regelbrecher. Rule Breaker.”

  All the color leached out of her face. Oh, crap! “Um, I’m not sure what I did to get into trouble this time, but I assure you—”

  Gregor took a green satin pump out of his de
sk drawer and pushed it to her. “You’re not in trouble. I need your help. I heard—from a couple of elves—that you’re good with the demaskierend spell. I don’t want to get the council involved with this. Or my family. This is just between you and me. Understand?”

  She stared at Gregor for a moment, and finally she understood. “Ohhhhhhhh. You need a Regelbrecher. On the down low. Well, okay then. You’ve definitely come to the right elf.” She tapped a hot pink fingertip on his desk. “I’m off the hook, right? Not getting into any trouble for this?”

  “Of course not. I’m asking you to do me a favor.”

  “Oh, goody! Does that mean the next time I get into big trouble, you’ll owe me? ’Cause . . . that could come in very handy in the future.”

  Gregor nodded with a resigned look on his face. “Yes. I owe you. Can you do the unmasking spell? I have . . . a shoe. Her shoe. I don’t know her full name or her address, but I need to find her. Can you help me?”

  His nostrils flared, and for the first time Shirley realized how desperate he was. She’d better not fuck this up.

  “Sure. No problem. This spell is one of my favorites. In fact, my friends and I have made it into a fun drinking game—”

  He pushed the shoe closer to her. “Do it,” he said.

  Guess he wasn’t in the mood for chitchat.

  “Fine.” She grabbed the shoe and let out a gasp. A stream of sternschnuppen shot into the air. “Hannah . . .” she whispered.

  A tiny tear-stained face in the darkness. A child filled with sweetness and love.

  Shirley took a ragged breath.

  “What did you say?” Gregor stood up behind his desk.

  She shook her head. “Um, nothing. Hold on. Give me a minute.”

  “You most certainly did say something. You said Hannah. And you looked . . . surprised. What the hell is going on?”

  His voice stung like a whip. Master Fromm wasn’t kidding about him. She needed to tread very lightly.

  “Oh, nothing really. This shoe belongs to someone I met once. A long time ago. Just for a second. I recognize her aura. No biggie. She’s super sweet . . .”

  Gregor stalked around the desk and leaned down to her eye level.