Dear Santa

by Alice Orr

  A spiral staircase near the window wall led upward to what he assumed must be the bedroom. The bag should probably go up there, but he wasn’t about to suggest that.

  “It’s really more than I need,” Katherine was saying in response to his comment about the room. “This is where they put me when I came to Albany to interview for the job at the center. There was some kind of convention in the hotel then, and this was all they had available. I imagine they have lots of empty rooms tonight, with the legislature out of session for the holidays and all. I just thought I’d feel better in some place where I’d been before.”

  She had her back to Vic. He could tell from how fast she was talking and the way she went on and on that she must be nervous, probably because he was still here.

  “I’ll go now,” he said, backing toward the door, and it was the most difficult thing he’d ever done in his life. He didn’t want to go. He didn’t want to leave Katherine. But he knew in her vulnerable state, he couldn’t insist that she let him stay. “My phone number’s in the book if you need me.”

  She turned to face him then, more abruptly than he would have expected.

  “Don’t go,” she said. “I need you now.”

  Her face was as wide open to him as the space of window glass behind her. Her eyes were clear and looking directly into his. He saw all her fear and her yearning, too, and he recognized the feelings because they matched his own.

  Vic walked toward her, stepping carefully and slowly for fear of shattering the fragile moment that hovered in the air above the rose-colored carpet between them.

  KATHERINE TURNED and walked away before Vic reached her. She heard him halt, or maybe she felt him do it, behind her. He must be wondering why she had asked him so pleadingly to stay but now walked away from him. She was wondering herself. She wasn’t sure. She stopped at the wide window and looked out at the Gothic stone of the City Hall building, St. Peter’s Church to the left and the Capitol Building beyond, all solidly planted as if they could stand forever. She wished she felt the same. She knew what she wanted, but she still had doubts about whether what she had said to Vic right now was really true. Did she, in fact, need him? Was he the trouble she suspected he might be? She definitely didn’t need any more trouble.

  She took three steps to her right and found the long cord to the curtain’s traveller rod high above at the top of the window, which rose from this lower level to the upper one. She pulled the cord and drew the gauzy curtain closed across the scene outside. The determination she carried with her at all times, to always think her actions thoroughly through in order to protect herself against the kind of hurt she’d suffered in Chicago, was suddenly as obscured as the view of Capitol Hill beyond this curtain. Maybe, if she stood here a while longer weighing the pros and cons of what she had in mind to do, all would become clear to her. On the other hand, if she turned around, she would be lost.

  A voice inside her, unfamiliar but compelling, cried out. That is exactly what you want, it said, and what you need—to be lost. Katherine turned around.

  Where she stood was mostly shadow. The light from the one lamp she had turned on as she came through the door didn’t reach this far. She wondered what Vic could see of her. She could certainly see all of him, and the sight actually took her breath away. He had stopped, just as she had felt him do, several feet from where she was now. The pool of light from the lamp touched the thick darkness of his hair and caught almost blue accents there. She couldn’t exactly see his deep-set eyes, but she could guess how they were looking at her all the same. The glint in Vic’s eyes had been a constant image in her own mind’s eye for what had begun to seem like forever.

  His trademark close-fitting jeans stretched tight along his right thigh as he cocked his hip in that direction in a posture also typical of him and not lacking in arrogance. In any other man, that attitude would have left her cold. Vic left her anything but cold. The challenge of his stance was received, fast as a telegraph message, direct to her belly, and she tightened there, that tightness clenching farther down her body with every shallow breath she took. He, of course, had on his leather jacket as well. He reached upward in a movement she hadn’t expected, grabbed the zipper loop and pulled it down in a single, rapid gesture. A gasp escaped her throat, as if it had been her own clothing he was zipping off.

  On trembling legs, she stepped out of the shadow cast by the spiral staircase and into the area of semi-brightness where Vic stood. He remained a few feet away from her and made no attempt to approach. Still, his presence so dominated her senses that he might as well have been filling up the entire room and pressing hard against her from all sides. She was also keenly aware of herself as not quite herself. That engulfing presence had entered into her, perhaps through her parted lips. She felt herself surrender to a will more deeply her own than the surface determination that had held every part of her in check for so very long. The relief which accompanied that release was profound, and experienced in her body as a rush of warmth.

  She had unbuttoned her long coat in the lobby downstairs. She shrugged it off her shoulders now, and it fell in folds of heavy wool around her feet. She barely heard Vic’s gasp as the coat descended to the floor. She recognized that gasp as the mate to her own, an instant ago. She parted her lips further, as if to speak, but understood then that no words were needed, at least not about what they were both feeling. The two of them, though they might not think alike about a lot of things, were at this moment sharing exactly the same emotions, the same powerful awareness of each other in every fiber of their bodies. The silence was taut and filled with the promise of what was sure to happen between them.

  In silence, she moved to the staircase and put her foot on the first step, then the next and the next. He didn’t rush to her or make any other abrupt movement, which might have shattered the charmed hush between them. She continued up the spiral. She didn’t need to see him there, any more than she had needed to see him before she’d turned around to face him in front of the window below. His image was a bright picture in her mind as he followed her up the staircase to the bedroom of this suite she must have meant all along to be reserved for two rather than just one.

  He was suddenly behind her then, where she had stopped next to the bed. His strong hands gripped her shoulders, but gently. Without a word, she turned to face him and lifted her face toward his. She had pulled her hat off in the lobby below. His fingers twined into the mass of her hair, and his mouth met hers. The kiss that followed was long and deep, and Katherine was not aware of herself breathing through any of it. She leaned against him, absorbing his warmth and his strength. At last, he lifted his lips from hers and stared down into her eyes.

  “I want you more than I have ever wanted anything in my life,” he said.

  His voice was husky and even deeper than usual. Before she could answer, or even know if she had thoughts enough left in her head to put words together, he had swept her up in his arms and was carrying her the short distance remaining to the bed. Katherine had never been lifted off the ground in that way, so swiftly or with such command. She tensed for a moment at the newness of being so totally taken charge of. Then, in the next instant, she gave herself up to all of it—the strength of his arms, the scent of his jacket against her cheek, the softness of the bed beneath her as he laid her down on it.

  He stood above her and stripped off his jacket first, then his sweater. There was only one low-level ceiling light lit near the doorway that led to the fifteenth-floor corridor. She could see him all the same, not in her mind’s vision now, but real and entirely beautiful, standing over her. The power of his torso enthralled her, and the tightness inside her became even more intense as she anticipated touching him across the broadness of his chest and down the muscles of his arms, which hardened now as he clasped his belt and pulled the buckle loose. He would be disrobing her with just as much urgency very soon now. She could hardly wait for that moment to come.

  Chapter Seventeen

&nbs
p; Vic woke up and knew immediately where he was. The feel of the place and what had happened in it had followed him into his dreams and surrounded him now as bright morning sun streamed through the filmy curtains over the tall, wide window of the duplex suite. On another morning, he might have flung his arm up to shut out the light or groaned and pulled the pillow over his head. Facing the dawn of a new day hadn’t always been his favorite thing. Now, Vic faced the brightness and smiled to himself. Today would be different from those other mornings. Except that…

  He had turned slowly from the window. He was still at least partly caught up in the dream of last night, a dream that was almost too wonderful to be true. He had stretched his arm across the pillow, as if to take hold of that dream once more in the morning light. Except that Katherine was gone.

  Vic sprang fully awake and upright in the same instant. He was alone in the bed, and for a moment he wondered if he could have imagined last night after all. Maybe he’d fantasized about Katherine so much and pictured so vividly how she would look beneath him with her halo of hair spread out against the pillow that he’d finally convinced himself the vision had to be real.

  Not a chance, he told himself with relief as he drew in his next breath. Katherine had been in this bed, all right. He could smell her still everywhere around him. He’d heard how scents can remain in the memory, but this was more than that. Her sweetness rose from the sheet as he tossed it away from his naked body. Too bad she wasn’t actually in those sheets herself.

  He leapt out of bed, propelled by disappointment and something more. He’d have to call that other feeling exasperation. She’d run out on him. She’d made love to him through most of the night. Then, she’d crept out of bed while he was still asleep and left him without so much as a goodbye. He knew exactly what it meant when a guy did that to a woman. He figured it meant just the same when the situation was reversed. He’d been the one-night stand this time. He should probably be glad she didn’t wake him up on her way out of here. He didn’t know if he’d have been able to stand hearing her say the most obvious brushoff line of all, “I’ll call you sometime.”

  In the old days, his temper would have carried him straight over the top as soon as he realized Katherine was gone. Lucky for him, and for whoever might be in the room next door, he’d worked on that explosive side of himself. Otherwise, he’d be kicking the bedside table right now instead of just standing here, clenching and unclenching the fists he’d clamped resolutely to the sides of his thighs. Besides, kicking furniture wouldn’t be a very good idea, at least not as long as his feet were as bare as the rest of him. All the same, he’d like to vent his frustration somehow. Vic considered punching the pillow, but he couldn’t do that either, not as long as he still remembered Katherine lying there.

  He tore his gaze away from the memory of that sight and sensed a similar tearing in his heart. He could hardly believe how deserted he felt. He picked up the hotel bathrobe at the bottom of the bed and pushed his arm into one of the terry-cloth sleeves. It occurred to him that this robe hadn’t been there the night before. He and Katherine had inhabited every inch of this king-size bed from top to bottom and side to side before they finally fell asleep. He would have noticed a bathrobe placed so neatly on top of the also neatly folded quilted spread. Katherine must have left the robe here for him.

  “How considerate of her,” he said aloud. “She thinks to leave me something to put on but doesn’t care enough to stick around till I wake up.”

  Unless…

  He shoved his other arm through the remaining empty sleeve of the bathrobe. Maybe Katherine had only gone downstairs. He’d temporarily forgotten that this fancy hotel room of hers had two floors. He hadn’t heard so much as a whisper of sound from below. Still, she could be down on the lower level. Maybe she’d used the bathroom down there so she wouldn’t wake him up. She’d thought to leave him the bathrobe. Maybe she was being just as thoughtful about letting him sleep undisturbed. If she had the bathroom door closed, he might not be able to hear her from way up here.

  Vic hoped almost desperately that scenario would be true as he hurried halfway down the spiral stairway. One glance told him he was more likely than not thinking like a fool. The living room of the suite was as empty as the hollow that had begun to echo inside him. He continued to move down the staircase all the same, but more slowly now. He’d check the bathroom just in case, but he’d already resigned himself to what he would probably find. Unfortunately, he didn’t manage to resign himself enough to prevent another stab of disappointment when the bathroom turned out to be as empty as the rest of the place.

  “I suppose I’ll be checking the closets next,” he said to himself, feeling exactly like the jerk she’d set him up to be.

  He was trying not to let it register too deep just how much he hated being in this situation when the buzzer rang at the door a few feet from the bathroom. The sound set his heart dancing in his chest. Katherine was at the door. She’d only gone down to the lobby for a newspaper, or to the health club for a morning swim, or whatever. He didn’t care where she’d been. He only cared that she was back. He had his wits about him just enough to pull his robe closed and tie the cloth belt across the front on his way to open the door.

  “We’re looking for Katherine Fairchild. Is this her room?”

  The question came in the few seconds it took for Vic to absorb the disappointment of not finding Katherine at the door. Meanwhile, his mind was doing its best to click through the changes it had to make before reacting to the man and woman in uniform standing on opposite sides of the hotel suite’s doorway.

  “Is Ms. Fairchild on the premises, sir?” the female officer asked.

  Vic didn’t feel much like talking, but what was left of his common sense told him he’d better come up with something to say to the policewoman’s question.

  “Mrs. Fairchild isn’t here,” he said.

  The words were already out of his mouth before he realized he had called Katherine by her previously married title. Too late to take it back, even though he could feel this situation getting harder to explain by the second. He’d guess the lady cop might be thinking the same thing because, while he was speaking, she’d been checking out what he had on—or maybe what he didn’t have on. He didn’t kid himself for a minute that she was sizing up his masculine charms. He’d bet a year’s salary she was busy taking notes. He could almost see them written down in her pocket pad even now.

  Unidentified male wearing bathrobe with hotel monogram and clutching front of same, on alleged premises of subject said male refers to as Mrs. Fairchild. Said male possibly of suspicious character. Risk of concealed weapon negligible in his present attire.

  “Do you know Ms. Fairchild’s current whereabouts?” the policewoman was asking.

  Her partner had positioned himself opposite her and at an angle from the other side of the doorway. He peered into the room behind Vic, who thought about stepping to his left to obstruct the shorter man’s view, but decided against it. He was very much aware of how vulnerable he had to look standing here in this damned robe. He was also very aware of how dumb it would be to provoke these officers into taking advantage of that vulnerability. They had the drop on him in more ways than one.

  “No, I don’t know where Ms. Fairchild is right now,” he said.

  He didn’t add that she’d taken a powder before he even woke up, though that infuriating fact was still on his mind.

  “Could we step inside for a moment, sir?” the policewoman asked.

  She said that in a completely noncommittal tone, with no sign of emotion or even curiosity. She might have been asking him if he would please step aside in an elevator or on a crowded street, as if they were nothing more than two strangers who just happened to be in the same place at the same time. Only, this situation was anything but that simple.

  “How did you find out Ms. Fairchild was staying in this hotel?” Vic asked.

  He was finally getting his head together enough to rea
lize he had to be careful how he handled this unexpected visit from the law.

  “She called Albany Hospital this morning to inquire about the condition of her friend.” The policewoman checked her pad which she had, by now, taken from the pocket of her down-filled police jacket. “Ms. Moran told us that Ms. Fairchild was staying in this hotel temporarily.”

  Her partner gave her a quick look then, as if he thought she was telling more than she should. Vic’s mind started clicking again in the meantime. Katherine had called the hospital this morning, maybe from right here in this room while he was upstairs asleep. That made him more infuriated with her than ever, though he wasn’t exactly sure why.

  “Could we step inside, sir?” the policewoman asked again.

  “Do you have a warrant?”

  Vic asked the question almost automatically, just the way he would have done if the cops had shown up on his doorstep at home. He still didn’t want to give these two an excuse to roust him. He didn’t intend to give them access to anything more than they could see from this doorway, either. Not if he could help it, anyway.

  “No, we don’t have a warrant, sir,” the female officer said.

  “Then you’d better go and get one.”

  Vic started easing the door shut while he was saying that. The policewoman had been standing a foot or so back from the doorway, obviously giving herself a margin of safety from the suspicious character in the bathrobe. She took a step forward now and placed her left hand with the pad in it against the door to keep it from closing all the way. Vic could see the firearm she carried in a snap-top holster at her right side. Her right elbow was close to her body, between him and the weapon. Still, he could see that the holster snap was undone.

  “Could you give me your name, please, sir?” she asked in a tone that was more demand than question.

  He continued pressing the door shut against the resistance of her hand.