Color had already been added, a breathtaking swirl of blues that reminded her of a cloudless summer sky. With quick movements, he pulled a long finger of glass from the spinning globe. A flick of his wrist here, a quick snip there. The ornament would be gorgeous—as every piece Dash produced was. For the briefest moment, Noelle fought the desire to have the ball hanging on her own Christmas tree.
But it wasn’t for her.
With practiced movements, he separated the piece from the pipe and stored it in the annealer, which allowed the glass to gradually cool without cracking.
While she’d never used any of the equipment in the room, she was intimately familiar with every piece. Dash had spent hours explaining to her just what they were used for. He didn’t let many people into this space—not even his brothers or sister. At the time that access had made her feel...special.
Apparently all he’d really wanted was inside her panties. Noelle couldn’t fight down the twist of a sickly smile as it crossed her face. She might have been impressed with his talent and turned on by the heat of his sweat-slicked skin, but her parents had raised her right. She’d still held out until he’d asked her to marry him.
If she’d known the high price of agreeing to that handfasting she probably would have saved herself the trouble and just let him have her here. Maybe then it would have just been hot sex instead of a soul-crushing disaster.
Dash stalked back across the room toward her, a soft, worn T-shirt clinging to his impressive chest. Damp patches arrowed down leading straight to the valley where she knew a six-pack was hidden. Tattered jeans clung to narrow hips, the thighs so threadbare she could see through to the bare skin underneath.
Most women would probably swoon at seeing Dash Evergreen in a perfectly tailored three-piece suit. And he definitely knew how to rock that look. But this, this, was what she dreamed about. Not the perfectly polished businessman or the responsible member of the Winter clan ruling family.
Nope, her fantasies were filled with the man—his dark hair disheveled and slightly damp and his green eyes snapping from an internal fire he worked hard to bank around most people. But she’d seen it. Knew the dangerous edge, the prowling restlessness and the burning passion.
Noelle’s muscles began to quiver, a fine tremble that she seriously hoped he wouldn’t notice. Dammit! What was it about this man that cut through every single shred of self-preservation she possessed?
As if she hadn’t learned her lesson.
Her head might have, but apparently her body still craved more sweet punishment.
He stopped in front of her, arms crossed over his wide chest. The hard line of his jaw tensed. A single muscle ticked rhythmically just below his left ear. The only sign that he was thoroughly pissed that she’d interrupted him.
Tough.
“We have a problem,” she said again, modulating her voice to something crisp and professional even as awareness and need crackled across the surface of her skin.
“So what’s new? All we seem to have lately are problems. Let Cole or Ethan handle whatever it is. My plate’s already full preparing the sleigh and overseeing the packaging.”
She didn’t want to hear the thin line of weariness buried deep inside his words, but Noelle couldn’t help it. Fine lines of strain flared out from the corners of his eyes, and the faint smudge of exhaustion bruised just below them. What was the idiotic man doing in the hot shop when he should obviously be in bed catching up on some much-needed sleep?
Exasperation flickered through her, and she almost stepped closer, intent on running her hand down the slope of his shoulders and convincing him to get some rest. But somehow she managed to stop herself. It wasn’t her job to care about him anymore. Hadn’t been for a very long time.
Unfortunately, what she was about to say was going to add to the strain. But there was nothing she could do about that.
With a deep breath she said, “Kris has decided not to take the sleigh this year.”
The dark slash of his eyebrows winged up in confusion. Noelle completely understood. That had been her initial reaction, as well.
“What are you talking about? Of course he’s taking the sleigh. How the hell else is he going to get around the world in twenty-four hours?”
At her sides, Noelle clenched her hands into fists. He wasn’t going to like this any more than she had.
“He wants to take the Corvette.”
The moment the words left her mouth, Noelle cringed, preparing for the inevitable explosion. But it didn’t come. Instead, Dash blinked at her and waited...possibly for a punch line that would never come.
Silence stretched between them. Noelle’s gaze darted across his face looking for any clue to his reaction, but there really wasn’t one. His face was thoroughly blank.
Just as she thought the tension building between them might actually crack like one of his pieces of glass, he said, “The damn thing is yellow. Yellow.”
His voice dipped down, the smooth, even cadence going slippery with horror and temper.
“How the hell are we supposed to hide a yellow convertible flying across the sky?”
* * *
Dash had really hoped she’d been kidding. He should have known she wasn’t. Just the fact that she’d entered his domain after months of avoiding him should have been clue enough.
Noelle Frost certainly wouldn’t have come all the way down to the lower levels of the lodge just for some sick joke. That wasn’t her style. Actually, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen her crack a smile, let alone laugh.
It made him sad, but there was nothing he could do to change it. She wanted nothing to do with him, and that was probably for the best.
There’d been a time when he’d known every nuance of Noelle—her body, her mind, her soul. She’d shared pieces of herself with him she’d held in check from everyone else. And he’d done the same.
But eight years was a long time, and she wasn’t the quiet, passionate girl he remembered.
Nope, now she had a hard edge to her that made him want to tear into whatever had put the wary caution in her soft blue eyes. She insisted on keeping her beautiful dark hair pulled ruthlessly into a knot at the nape of her neck. And the holster resting beneath the cut of her suit coat...the first time she’d popped it open and he’d gotten a look at it he’d wanted to rush her to the nearest room, lock her inside and make sure there was never a reason for her to need the damn thing.
When she’d walked into his hot shop just now, he’d first thought she was a figment of his imagination. Breathed to life from the thoughts whirling around inside his overly tired brain. He needed sleep. The weeks leading up to Christmas were always his busiest. But no matter how exhausted, the moment his head hit the pillow and his eyes closed images of Noelle were burned into the backs of his eyelids.
And if he did manage to drift off, those images would change from still photographs to flickering images with movements that left him panting and frustrated with a raging hard-on he couldn’t do anything with.
So, to exorcise his demons, he’d come down to the one place he always found peace. But she’d even invaded there. He hadn’t realized the ornament he was working on was the exact color of her eyes until it was too late.
And then she’d been standing there, her mouth tight and her eyes burning as she watched him work. Did she remember the feel of his hands on her body as he’d tried to teach her how to work the glass? Did her body ache with memories and unfulfilled needs?
There was no way to know by looking at her. The CIA had worked her over well. Her expression was always perfectly, pleasantly blank. Initially, he’d thought it was him. But then he’d realized that was her new default position. Or it had been when she’d first returned. After a few months some of the severe reserve had begun to fade. He’d seen her let her guard down, a little, w
ith Belle, Taryn, Lark and his brothers.
The mask was still firmly in place with him.
Although he wasn’t really surprised. Their history didn’t exactly breed open friendliness. The passion that crackled between them had always been too explosive for that kind of easy camaraderie. They burned hot, just like the furnace at his back.
But now wasn’t the time to think about any of this. Not if what she was saying was true.
“Surely to God someone can talk some sense into the man. A Corvette? The damn thing is barely bigger than a Tinkertoy. How does he expect to get all the deliveries packed inside?”
Noelle’s eyebrow swooped up into a silent version of “did you really just ask me that?”
“Yeah, yeah. Magick. But we both know there are limits to what I can do. Especially less than two weeks before Christmas. Maybe if I’d had a year to prepare...the cloaking spell alone is going to be almost impossible.”
She sighed, the heavy weight of it lifting her shoulders and breasts tight against the dark cut of her jacket. “I know. But...I’ve already spoken to Cole, Ethan and Belle. With all the other ‘issues’ going on, we’re agreed that it’s probably in everyone’s best interest to accommodate this request.”
Irritation rolled through Dash’s chest. “The man is having a midlife crisis and the rest of us have to pay the price?”
The mountain was already buzzing with the muted whispers of gossip mingled with suppressed panic. He had no idea what they were going to do with a Santa who’d taken up jogging and refused to eat cookies. In a few weeks millions of children would be leaving him enough to counteract twenty years’ worth of exercise.
And he didn’t even want to think about the snowy white beard the man had shaved off. At least that could be fixed with some strategically glued stage makeup.
Making a damn car fly was going to be the last straw.
Even if Dash was a little miffed at being left out of the family discussion—probably because they already knew what his answer would be—he grudgingly recognized their point. Everyone was walking on eggshells around Kris. Personally, Dash thought it was useless. The guy’s wife was going to leave him. Everyone could see it. The sooner he accepted the reality and moved on the better it would be for everyone.
Dash’s wife had walked away from him without even bothering to tell him she was leaving. He’d managed to survive. Somehow. So would Kris. Just not in a Corvette flying across the sky.
If this crisis had struck at any other time during the year, Dash would have dug his heels in and refused. He would have forced everyone—Kris, Cole, Belle, Merry—to deal with the reality of what was happening.
But it was two weeks before Christmas, and the last thing they needed was for Kris to go comatose with heartache. Hell, he could barely remember the first few weeks after Noelle had left. They were a whiskey- and fire-fueled haze. And he had the scars to prove alcohol and molten glass were a lethal mix.
Noelle watched him, patiently waiting for his reaction. It was one of the things he’d always loved about her, the way she’d instinctively known when he needed space for the wheels to spin and had always given it to him. Unlike his brothers and sister, she didn’t push.
Which was good, because if she had he probably would have balked on principle alone.
Picking up the nearest handy object, a pair of metal tongs he used to shape the glass, he threw them across the room. The metallic rattle as they hit first the wall and then the floor was less than cathartic.
Noelle didn’t even blink at his outburst, which only made him regret the less than helpful gesture.
Her smoky voice, the sound of it making him think of flickering fires and her lithe body spread out across the soft surface of a white rug, swirled across his skin. “Feel better?”
“Not particularly.”
A smile, all the more enticing because of its rarity, teased at the corners of her lips. “Yeah, me either. Although I do feel guilty for leaving a dent in the wall of my father’s office.”
“Your office.”
Noelle’s startled gaze collided with his. Her mouth went slack with surprise before she snapped it shut again.
“My father’s. I’m only here temporarily.”
“Yeah, that’s what you keep saying.”
Was it wrong that he wanted her to stay? Had always wanted her to stay. But she hadn’t. She had a life outside Gingerbread, one that she was pretty damn good at apparently. One that he knew nothing about.
The spike of sadness surprised him. Reaching up, he rubbed at the ache of it in the center of his chest.
“Fine. Let’s go figure out how to make a damn car fly.”
Chapter 2
Noelle tried not to pay attention to the way his body moved, but it was difficult not to notice. Especially when she had to quicken her strides, forcing out two for every one of his, just to keep up with Dash. Even in her four-inch designer heels the top of her head hit just even with his chin. Unfortunately, it gave her a great view of the dimple there.
Jerking her gaze away from him, Noelle forced herself to pay attention to what they were doing.
“Sir, Kris had the car delivered to the barn fifteen minutes ago.”
From the expression in the elf’s eyes it was clear the general consensus was that this was an idiotic idea. Noelle didn’t disagree...they just didn’t have many other options.
With a nod, Dash followed the tiny man around the back of the lodge to the huge structure waiting there. Barn was a misnomer. It might have looked like one on the outside, but it resembled a warehouse on the inside.
On one end were large bay doors that would be rolled up so the sleigh could be brought out and loaded. Noelle’s gaze swept across the ancient vehicle. It had been used for centuries. The wooden boards and gold-leaf paint seemed laced with magick. The runners gleamed beneath the fluorescent light. She used to creep inside the sleigh, curl up on the soft velvet seat and pretend she really did belong here.
She hadn’t seen it in years...and until that moment hadn’t realized how much she’d missed the outward sign of her heritage. A little prick of longing shifted inside her, but before she could do anything about it, Dash was striding off across the cavernous space.
The Corvette stuck out like a sore thumb. Not because they didn’t have modern conveniences. The clan kept a huge fleet of vehicles available for use by anyone.
A crowd stood around staring at the huge yellow monstrosity. Their heads barely reached the top of the low-slung car. Several of them whispered back and forth to each other. Off to her left, Noelle heard a bleating sound that seemed to echo the consternation swirling around. Apparently the reindeer weren’t oblivious to the fact they’d just been replaced.
The crowd split, clearing a space for them to pass.
Dash frowned. “This is a bad idea,” he mumbled beneath his breath. If the elves loitering around weren’t blessed with preternatural hearing, she would have been the only one to hear his words. Big pointy ears had their advantages.
“Maybe, but we’re doing it anyway,” Noelle countered in a loud voice filled with as much certainty as she could muster.
Shaking his head, Dash ordered the staff to clear the area. Everyone fell back, although they didn’t completely disappear. Small faces filled the large bay opening.
“Why don’t you try the cloaking spell first? Let’s make sure we can hide this monstrosity before I try to make it fly.”
Logically, she knew he had a point. But that didn’t stop the infinitesimal tremor she felt. Her magick had been...finicky. For months she’d been working hard to cover up her issues. She’d been lucky. But it looked like that good fortune was about to run out.
She felt sick with nerves. The sensation wasn’t completely unfamiliar. There had been plenty of times she’d felt the same chu
rning mix of anxious apprehension, usually moments before she plunged into a deep-cover assignment. Those jitters never lasted for long because she knew she had the skills to handle the situation.
She didn’t think she had what she needed to pull this off. Growing up, she’d struggled to keep up with the rest of her classmates. The spells and casts they could do in their sleep she’d had to fight for. She’d spent hours practicing, determined that she would not let herself be different from the rest of the kids. But she was. And everyone knew it.
This was it. The moment everyone realized she’d been lying from the day she’d come back. They were about to get firsthand evidence she didn’t belong with the Winter clan. The Evergreens would decide she couldn’t fulfill her position and kick her out. Her father wasn’t strong enough to resume his duties yet. He’d lose his job, and while the Evergreens wouldn’t boot him to the curb, he needed his job. He needed something to fight for in order to get better.
Well, it had been a good ride. She’d actually lasted longer than she’d expected.
Here went nothing. Closing her eyes, Noelle pulled out her wand and concentrated on the car in front of her. In her mind’s eye she recalled every detail so the memory was as complete as possible. The glaring color. The glint of light on the chrome. The squeak of brand-new tires against the coated concrete floor.
Whispering words in an ancient language only a few remembered, she started at the hood and moved backward, imagining the entire thing disappearing beneath a blanket of nothing.
She breathed evenly, drawing on the surge of light that kindled deep in her belly and radiated out.
A murmur started behind her, the sound of it growing to the point of annoyance. Didn’t they realize she needed to focus?
Beside her, Dash shifted. His arm brushed against her. And she reacted. That single moment shattered her concentration as everything inside her centered on the man next to her. The picture in her mind was no longer of the car, but of Dash as he’d worked the ball of blue glass with expert precision. The bunch and pull of his muscles. The glowing heat on his skin.
Jingle Spells Page 15
