All I Want for Christmas

by Gina Wilkins

  Not that he’d ever had any of the feelings he’d experienced when he’d made love with Ryan.

  The lovemaking had started out the same way it had in the past. He’d desired her, had sensed an answering attraction in her and had naturally followed up on those feelings.

  But sometime between that first practiced kiss and the unprecedented explosion that had followed, something had changed. Something that had scared the life out of him.

  He hadn’t worried that those other women could change him or threaten all the decisions he’d long ago made for himself.

  Ryan worried him. No. Ryan terrified him.

  He told himself he should stay away from her. Of course, for now, they were both involved with the kids.

  Max realized he had no real obligation to them—his connection was tentative at best. But, like Ryan, he’d been unable to walk away.

  Maybe it was the way Pip looked at him, as if the boy saw something in Max that few others could see. Maybe it was Kelsey’s sweet, trusting smile.

  Or maybe it had something to do with Ryan….

  No, he wouldn’t leave yet. Not until something had been decided about the kids.

  After that—well, he didn’t know. Would it be possible for him to spend time with Ryan Clark without giving too much of himself? Could he make love to her again without losing himself in her?

  Oh, yeah, Ryan was different from those other women—the ones who’d enjoyed their time together, no matter how brief, and then walked away without a backward look.

  Even more worrisome, Max was beginning to wonder if he’d be able to walk away quite so easily this time.

  MAX CALLED RYAN at her shop early Saturday morning. “It’s been confirmed,” he said without preamble. “Opal is dead.”

  Ryan sagged against the counter. “Oh, Max.”

  She wondered how the children would take this new tragedy in their young lives. They had spoken very little of their aunt, and Ryan had gotten the impression that their relationship with her hadn’t been particularly close. But how would her death affect them?

  “Ryan?” Max said, reminding her that he was still on the line.

  “I’m here.”

  “What now?” he asked. “What are you going to do?”

  “I’ll call Nick and tell him what you’ve learned.”

  “Juliana was going to call him. I’m sure he already knows.”

  “Oh. Well, I’ll call and see what he recommends that I do now.”

  “What do you want to do?”

  Ryan bit her lip. “I want to keep the children a little longer,” she said. “At least until their other aunt is found. I don’t want them going to strangers.”

  To his credit, Max didn’t point out that she was little more than a stranger to them herself, though she knew he would be justified in doing so. She was all the children had now; somehow, she would find a way to be there for them.

  “Ryan…” Max sounded worried.

  “I know what you’re going to say—that I’m getting too involved with them. But I can’t help it, Max. They need me.”

  His sigh was just audible through the phone lines. “Yeah. I sort of thought you’d say that.”

  “I can’t help it.”

  “I know.” He brought the call to a rather abrupt end. “I’ll talk to you later.”

  Ryan found it easier not to think of the future, at least as far as Max and the children were concerned. She concentrated instead on how much pleasure she found in having Pip and Kelsey with her now.

  They were so well behaved. So bright and funny.

  How could anyone not love them?

  It was an extremely hectic Saturday at her store, as Christmas shoppers turned out in droves. The neighbor who’d agreed to baby-sit weekday afternoons had other plans, so Ryan had been forced to take the children to work with her. They played quietly in her office most of the day, content to take a quick lunch break with her and then entertain themselves again.

  Max showed up midafternoon and took the children off for a few hours of fun in the mall—a movie and an hour of arcade games. Ryan was touched that he’d bothered, a bit confused by his motives, and secretly envious of the leisure time he was able to enjoy with them. Just when did he work, anyway?

  Sunday was usually Ryan’s day off. She would have liked to take the children to church with her, but she wasn’t ready to face the inevitable questions from her friends. How would she explain her current relationship to them?

  With business so heavy, she didn’t feel comfortable taking the entire day off, so she compromised by leaving the children with her neighbor while she worked for four hours that afternoon. Pip made it clear that he saw absolutely no need for her to hire a baby-sitter each time she left them; he even seemed a bit insulted that she did so.

  It was the first time he’d questioned Ryan’s authority.

  Ryan tried to soothe his injured pride, but she stood firm on her decision. Though she was sure he could take care of himself and Kelsey, she simply couldn’t leave them unsupervised, she explained. She then implied that she wouldn’t be allowed to keep them with her if anyone suspected she wasn’t watching out for them at all times.

  That point effectively ended the argument. The neighbor assured Ryan later that evening that Pip and Kelsey had been very well behaved.

  As she tucked him in that night, Ryan thanked Pip for his cooperation. He gravely accepted her thanks and promised not to give her any further trouble about baby-sitters. Even though he didn’t really need one, he seemed compelled to add in a murmur.

  Ryan was smiling when she left the room.

  Maybe this parenthood thing wasn’t so hard, after all, she found herself thinking as she brushed her hair and prepared for bed.

  MAX TOLD HIMSELF that the only reason he spent so much time with the kids during the next few days was because he felt sorry for them. Poor little orphans, now deprived even of the aunt who’d been appointed guardian to them.

  Pip was obviously hungry for a man’s attention. From what little he’d said of his aunt’s boyfriend, the guy must have been a real jerk. He hadn’t wanted to talk to the kids or have them interfere in his life in any way.

  Ryan and the kids seemed to have worked out a comfortable routine. She fed them breakfast and drove them to school each morning. Her neighbor picked them up at school in the afternoons and took them back to the apartment, where she supervised them until Ryan got home.

  Ryan left her shop now at seven most evenings, leaving her employees to close up. She was home to have dinner with the kids and spend time with them before tucking them in bed.

  Max admired her dedication. He knew it wasn’t easy for her to juggle work and the children’s needs, but somehow she was doing it. Her employees seemed satisfied with the arrangement, the children were obviously thriving from her attention and business at the shop seemed steady whenever he was there.

  He couldn’t help worrying, however, that Ryan and the children were growing too close. Juliana had found her strongest lead yet on Essie Smith. She had already turned her information over to the authorities, and she expected the woman would be found before the week was over.

  What would it do to Ryan, and to the children, when the woman came to collect her young relatives?

  Wasn’t that exactly why Max had always carefully avoided ties like this himself? Hadn’t he seen years ago that getting too deeply involved with others always seemed to lead to heartache?

  He hoped Ryan wouldn’t be too badly hurt.

  MAX WAS AT Ryan’s apartment Thursday evening when she tucked the children into bed. He’d been around quite a bit during the past week, actually. She’d convinced herself that he’d come only out of concern for the children. He’d certainly made no further advances toward her.

  Which, she assured herself each time the thought crossed her mind, was exactly the way she wanted it. Between work and the children, she had enough to occupy her time and her thoughts without having to deal with her befudd
led feelings for Max Monroe.

  “Coffee?” she asked him perfunctorily when they returned to the living room.

  This was usually the point where he politely excused himself and made his exit. Tonight he hesitated only a moment before saying, “Yes, thanks. I’d like that.”

  Though she was a bit surprised by his acceptance, Ryan hid her reaction as she urged him to make himself comfortable while she went into the kitchen.

  She could sense that he had something on his mind as he sipped his coffee. He appeared to be watching the evening news on television, but something told her he wasn’t paying much attention to the headlines.

  Finally, she set her own cup down and turned to him. “Is there something you want to talk to me about, Max?”

  He made a rueful face and set his own cup next to hers on the coffee table. They sat side by side on the couch, some six inches separating them—physically. Ryan felt that they were even farther apart emotionally. She had no idea what he was thinking. She didn’t even know why he was there.

  “You’re doing a good job with the kids,” he said. “They look happy and healthy. Even Pip’s starting to relax. He laughs more now, the way a kid his age should.”

  Ryan ran a hand through her hair. “I think they have been happier here than they ever were with Mrs. Culpepper. But they still worry about their future—especially Pip. He tries to hide it, but I can tell he worries about what’s going to happen to them. That’s why I haven’t told him yet that his aunt is dead. Until I know more about what’s to become of them, it would be cruel to leave him wondering.”

  “He never asks about her?”

  “No,” Ryan admitted. “He doesn’t act as though he misses her at all. Neither of them do. Pip’s greatest fear seems to be that he and Kelsey will be separated.”

  “Surely no one would separate them.”

  “Their aunts were planning to,” Ryan reminded him.

  “Yes. But that was when there were two aunts.” Ryan folded her hands in her lap. “If Essie wasn’t willing to take both children before, I wonder how she’ll feel about it now. Especially since she’s apparently unemployed.”

  “We’ll just have to wait and see.”

  “I know. But it’s hard.”

  Max shifted on the couch, a slight frown creasing his brow. “Ryan…could we talk about something else for a while?”

  She lifted a questioning eyebrow. “Like what?”

  “Like…well, you.”

  “Me?”

  Without smiling, he nodded.

  “What about me?”

  He brushed his knuckles against her cheek, the touch light, fleeting. It took her breath away.

  “I’d like to know,” he murmured, his face close to hers, “what you think when you look at me with those big, dark eyes. What you look like first thing in the morning, with your skin flushed with sleep and your hair all mussed around your face. I’d like to know what it is about me that makes you nervous. Sometimes you look at me like you’re trying to figure out if I’m dangerous.

  “But most of all,” he added, sliding his hands into her hair, so that her face was cupped between his palms, “I’d like to know why I can’t seem to get you out of my thoughts. Why I can’t seem to stay away from you, even though I know I should. What is it about you that makes me think of you in the middle of the night when I can’t sleep?”

  She cleared her throat. “I think…”

  His voice was a low growl. “What do you think?”

  “I think you are dangerous,” she admitted softly, helplessly. “At least to me.”

  His lips moved against hers. “You just might be right.”

  And then he was kissing her, taking her mouth in an assault that was no less devastating for being so very gentle. And she melted against him, just as she had before. Even though she’d promised herself it would never happen again.

  Had it been his words that had shaken her defenses? His admission that he hadn’t been able to stop thinking of her, just as she hadn’t quite been able to put him out of her mind during the past few days, no matter how hard she’d tried?

  Was it the way he looked, with his tumbled gold hair and his endearingly crooked smile, his devil-in-denim walk or his wicked, blue-gray eyes? His kindness to the children?

  What was it about Max Monroe that made her want him, despite her absolute certainty that he could hurt her as no one ever had before?

  She slid her arms around his neck, telling herself that she was going to stop this soon.

  Just one more moment…

  He pulled her closer, one arm around her, his other hand buried in the hair at the back of her head. His mouth teased, tasted, taunted, until she parted her lips and silently urged him to deepen the kiss.

  Max promptly accepted the unspoken invitation.

  Just one more moment, she thought, closing her eyes and losing herself in his arms.

  “Ryan? Ryan?”

  Kelsey’s sleepy voice calling from the other room brought Ryan out of Max’s arms with a gasp.

  Disoriented, she pushed her hair away from her flushed face and stared at Max for a moment before turning on one heel to rush toward the children’s room.

  “Could I have a drink of water?” the little girl asked, rubbing her eyes when Ryan appeared in the doorway. “I’m thirsty.”

  Pip lifted his head from his pillow. “You should have asked me, Kelsey,” he said groggily. “I’d have gotten it.”

  “Go back to sleep, Pip,” Ryan said, relieved that her voice was reasonably steady. “I’ll get the water.”

  She turned and almost walked into Max.

  He steadied her with his hands on his shoulders. His eyes were dark and somber. “I’d better go,” he said.

  She nodded. “Maybe you should.”

  “We’ll talk later.”

  She moistened her still-throbbing lips. “Yes.”

  “Good night, Ryan.”

  Her response came out as little more than a whisper. “Good night.”

  She didn’t expect to sleep at all well that night.

  10

  CATHY CALLED RYAN to the telephone less than an hour after the shop opened Friday morning. “She didn’t give her name,” she explained. “She only said that she wanted to speak with you.”

  Thinking it might be Max’s friend Juliana with some news for her, Ryan hurried to the phone. “Ryan Clark.”

  “Ms. Clark?” a husky voice at the other end of the line said tentatively. “My name is Essie Smith. I’m Peter and Kelsey’s aunt. I heard you’ve been looking for me.”

  Ryan’s fingers tightened convulsively around the telephone receiver.

  “You’re Essie Smith?” she repeated weakly, though she knew she’d heard correctly.

  “Yes. I understand you’ve been taking care of my niece and nephew.”

  “How did you know?”

  “The police contacted me this morning about…my sister. I called Mrs. Culpepper, and she gave me your number. She said she’s been real sick and you’ve taken the kids in as a favor to her.”

  “I’m so very sorry about your sister, Ms. Smith. This must be a very difficult time for you.”

  Ryan thought she heard the woman draw an unsteady breath. “My sister and I weren’t very close,” she admitted after a moment. “But, yeah. It’s hard.”

  “I’m sorry,” Ryan repeated, not knowing what else to say.

  “Look, I want to thank you for what you’ve done for the kids. Mrs. Culpepper said you were a friend of Opal’s?”

  Ryan moistened her lips. “Actually, I’m a friend of the children’s.”

  “Oh. Well, I’ve made arrangements for Opal’s things to be stored until I can get there. I’ve got a few things to take care of here and then I have to fly out to Utah to—to make arrangements for Opal. It’s going to be a few days, maybe a week, before I can get to where you are. Will you be able to take care of the kids that long or do I need to figure out something else to do with them?”
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br />   Ryan frowned. Essie Smith had spoken so emotionlessly, as though the entire ordeal was a great nuisance to her. “Of course, I’ll keep them with me,” she said. “I’m very fond of the children. They’re no trouble at all.”

  “That’s good. At least I won’t have to be worrying about them during the next few days. To be honest, I have enough to worry about.”

  “Ms. Smith,” Ryan began hesitantly.

  “Call me Essie.”

  “Essie, what are you planning to do with the children, if you don’t mind my asking? Mrs. Culpepper told me that you and Opal had originally planned on splitting them between you—”

  “That was Opal’s idea,” Essie interrupted. “She knew I didn’t really want either of them. It isn’t that I don’t care about my brother’s kids, but I’m really in no position to take care of them—especially both of them.

  “To tell you the truth, Ms. Clark, I don’t know what I’m going to do. I guess I’ll just have to decide that when I get there. I’m sure there’ll be a lot of legal matters to discuss with someone. I just don’t know.”

  “Please, call me Ryan.” Ryan felt a bit numb—a reaction to her surprise at actually hearing from this woman they’d been seeking for so long and to her renewed concern about the children’s future. “You have my home number if you need me for any reason?”

  “Yeah, Mrs. Culpepper gave it to me. Thanks. For everything, I mean. She says you’re being real good to the kids.”

  Ryan was rather surprised by the landlady’s praise. She could only surmise that Mrs. Culpepper had wanted to justify letting her charges leave with someone who was in fact a stranger to her.

  “Please let me know when to expect you,” she said as they concluded the call.

  “I will. Tell the kids—well, tell them hi for me,” their aunt finished lamely.

  Ryan was genuinely depressed when she hung up the phone.

  Oddly enough, her first impulse was to call Max.