Secret Santa

by Fern Michaels

  “Claire, it’s Quinn.”

  As soon as she heard his voice, she opened the door.

  “Okay if I come in?” he asked.

  Quinn Connor wasn’t the ogre his uncle was, that she was sure of. “Sure,” she said, and stepped aside.

  “I knew he’d put you in this room. It has the best view of the back of the estate, plus the mountains. I’ve spent a night or two in this room myself.”

  Claire wondered if he’d been alone, but it wasn’t her business, and right now, it was unimportant.

  “Yes, it’s beautiful, and I’m sorry, but I can’t stay here. I was about to call the airlines to see if there’s another flight available tonight. I promised my family I would be home in time for Christmas, and from the looks of it, I’m going to be able to keep my promise.”

  “Look, I want to apologize for my uncle’s behavior.” Quinn walked across the room and stared out the window. “For the past year, he’s been obsessed with keeping the property in the family.”

  “Apparently. I was about to check my voice mail when you knocked. Mind if I check it now? I saw several calls from a number I don’t recognize. I hope it’s not bad news.” Claire took her phone from the bed.

  “They’re from me,” Quinn said. “As soon as I got wind of Donald’s plan, I tried calling you, but you were already on your way. I’m sorry you had to travel so far for nothing.”

  Claire smiled suddenly, liking this guy a wee bit more than she had an hour ago. “Thanks, that was good of you, but I had the phone off, and to be truthful”—Claire felt the urge to spill the beans—“I got a bit tipsy on the flight from LA to New York. When I arrived at JFK, I was a total mess. I had two drinks, and I swear they tasted like sweet tea. I drank them too fast or something, I don’t know, but by the time I left the bar, I was so drunk I couldn’t walk. Well, no I couldn’t walk because I’d managed to break the heel on my shoe, so I limped through the airport and purchased a nice comfortable pair of Betty Boop slippers, but this was after I spent a while hugging the porcelain god.” Claire laughed. “I am terrified of flying.”

  Instead of laughing like she expected, Quinn took a deep breath, then blew it out, all the while clenching and unclenching his fists. “It’s just like him to do this. Did he know you weren’t fond of flying?”

  Claire saw where he was going. “No, it’s not something I talk about. In my line of work, I have to travel, and it’s something I’ve learned to live with. I usually do a few relaxation techniques, and they actually work quite well. I think all the alcohol in my system just amplified my fear. Though I did have a very pleasant seat mate. I promised I’d try to visit before I left.” Claire hated to make promises and not keep them, but she would call Kelly and send her a brand-new pair of Kate Spade ballet flats as soon as she returned to the States.

  Curious, Quinn asked, “I take it you liked his company?”

  “Actually, he was quite pleasant when he wasn’t crying,” Claire said.

  “Crying?” Quinn asked.

  “Yes. His name was Patrick, too. Though he prefers to go by Paddy. I thought the name was cute. It suited him.”

  “Paddy, huh?”

  “I’m sure when he’s older, he will grow out of the name, but until then it suits him just fine. I’m just sorry I won’t be able to tell him good-bye, he was quite the guy.”

  Quinn stepped away from the window and sat on the edge of the bed. “So this Paddy, do you think he’s someone you could have a relationship with?”

  Claire couldn’t help herself any longer. She laughed out loud, then sat on the bed with Quinn. “Yes, I think I could have a relationship with him. As I said, he was quite the guy. But he’s too young for me. I’m sure his mother, who traded her shoes for my Betty Boop slippers, would agree. I think he was about eight weeks old. It was his first flight, too.”

  He turned to face her. “You mean Paddy was a baby?”

  “He was, and he had a set of lungs on him, too. Kelly, that’s his mother, had to fly to New York to attend her grandmother’s funeral. We hit it off, and I am truly sorry I won’t get to tell her good-bye in person though I would like to call her before I leave.” She glanced at the clock on the bedside table. “I suppose it’s not too late to call, but I want to call the airlines first. I do not want to spend the night in this place.” Claire realized she spoke a bit too harshly. “I’m sorry, I know this is your family home, or castle, but I can’t help it. Your uncle took unfair advantage of me. And you, too.”

  “I don’t want the place, trust me. It’s beautiful, and grand, but it’s not a home. No one lives in a castle anymore. I’ve told Donald for years he should turn the place over to the country, it’s an historical landmark, but he refuses to let go. I think his dad made him swear on his life he’d keep the castle in the family forever, but times aren’t like they were then.”

  “True, but I can appreciate Donald’s desire to preserve his heritage.”

  “I can, too, but it’s more than that with him. He’s obsessed. He rarely talks of anything else. You don’t see that side of him. I’ve been more than concerned. Thank God for Marty and Tilly. They know what’s going on, and we stay in contact almost daily since the change in him.”

  “I’m sure I know this, but right now it escapes me. How old is Donald?” Claire asked.

  Quinn appeared to do a quick mental calculation. “He’s turning eighty, get this, on New Year’s Day.”

  “Wow, he’s in good shape for his age, at least physically. I’m not so sure about his mental status,” Claire said, then regretted it. It wasn’t her place to make a medical judgment. She was an attorney. She’d best leave the medical diagnosis to the pros.

  “Yes, he is, but he’s been declining the past couple of years. Repeats himself. Marty says he’s forever losing things, then blames him or Tilly for hiding whatever it is he’s claimed to have lost.” Quinn truly hated this, but it is what it is. “I guess it’s inevitable. We’re all getting older, and I don’t know about you, but it sure beats the alternative.”

  Before she realized what she was doing, she reached for his hand. His glance slipped to their entwined hands, and when he looked at her and smiled, Claire knew then and there that she was toast. About to pull her hand away, he placed his other hand on top of hers. “Don’t pull away, Claire.”

  She didn’t want to. But this would never work. She lived in California. He lived in . . . California!

  What was she thinking? She smiled at him and continued to hold his hand. Wanting to stay this way for as long as possible, she knew she couldn’t. “I don’t think I can call the airlines without the use of my hands.”

  Before letting go, he took both of her hands, wrapped them in his, then before releasing them, he placed a light kiss on the palm of her hand. Her heart jolted, and her pulse pounded as though she’d just run a marathon. She took a deep breath but said nothing, as words weren’t necessary.

  “You finish getting your things together, and I’ll call the airlines,” Quinn said, his voice husky, seductive. “If that’s okay?” he added.

  Claire nodded, not sure she could speak. Her emotions were all over the place. Here she was prepared to dislike this handsome, intelligent Irishman, and all she could think of at the moment was the feel of his lips when he’d lightly kissed her palm. She looked at her hand, amazed that it still tingled from his lips, and his touch.

  Before she lost total control of herself, she went to the bathroom and grabbed her dirty skirt, blouse, and underclothes off the floor. She hadn’t used her toiletries, so there wasn’t anything else to pack. She rearranged a few items in her luggage and found a plastic Target bag to put her dirty clothes in. A trick she’d learned years ago. She tied the bag into a secure knot, then tucked it beneath the shoes Kelly had so graciously traded for those silly slippers. Claire saw that the shoes were cheap and worn, which made her feel twice as bad for taking them. Maybe it was the only extra pair of shoes she owned. Claire hadn’t paid too much attention to K
elly’s feet, but she believed she’d had on sneakers. Yes, she would send her a brand-spanking-new pair of Kate Spades, along with a pair of warm Uggs. And a pair for Paddy. Ireland winters being as cold as Marty said, she was sure the mother and baby could use a warm pair of boots. She already knew Kelly wore a size seven, and between all her nieces and nephews, her sisters surely could advise her on a close size for baby Paddy. That settled in her mind, she listened to Quinn as he spoke on his cell phone. When she saw him reach for his wallet to remove a credit card, she practically leaped across the bed. “No! I have a return ticket,” she whispered loudly.

  He smiled and brushed her hand away, then grabbed it and planted a wet kiss on her index finger. Jolts of desire shot through her, settling in the middle of her body. She wanted to yank her hand away but didn’t. She liked his lips, liked his kisses, no matter how slight. She smiled at him and leaned up and planted a kiss on his chin. He was too tall for her, and that was nice. She liked tall men. And she was liking Quinn Connor more by the minute.

  Chapter Six

  Claire turned away, suddenly embarrassed. She was thirty-four years old and couldn’t ever remember being so instantly physically attracted to a man. Her insides danced like Mexican jumping beans when he blew her a kiss while he continued to speak on the phone. “Yes, we’ll make sure to arrive on time. Thanks,” he said before clicking off.

  “We’re all set,” he told her before pulling her into his arms. He wrapped his hands around her shoulders, and the gesture seemed familiar and comfortable. Claire lifted both arms and placed them around his neck. Before either of them could stop, Quinn’s lips gently covered her mouth. Slowly, he teased her mouth with the tip of his tongue, then he traced the soft fullness of her lips with his own. Desire burned inside her, and when he pulled away and stared into her eyes, her entire being was filled with a longing unlike any she’d ever known. It was more than physical, and she knew he felt it, too, from the sensuous light that passed between them. His gaze was tender yet smoldered with passion. He took a deep, shaky breath before pulling her completely against him. When she felt his hardness, a ripple of pure lust shot through her. She wanted Quinn Connor badly. And she wanted him now. Right here in his uncle’s guest room.

  “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” he whispered against her ear.

  “Probably,” she answered.

  Lightly, he fingered a loose tendril of hair on her cheek. “If you want to make the next flight out, we have to leave now.”

  She touched his thick hair, wanting to plant her hands in it, wrap her fingers around the long hair at his nape, but resisted. Now wasn’t the time, and maybe there would never be another time, but for now Claire cherished these few moments with this man, whom she’d thought of as an adversary only a short time ago.

  “Let’s get out of here before I forget I’m a gentleman,” he said, then kissed her again, only this time on her cheek. Still, Claire felt hot with wanting. It would be a miracle if she didn’t jump his bones on the way to the airport.

  Quinn carried her luggage, while she strapped her duffel over one shoulder and her purse on the other.

  “I need to tell Marty and Tilly good-bye,” she said as they walked down the long hallway. Part of her felt a moment’s sadness knowing she was leaving Ireland behind without really having seen all that she’d longed to see, but she made a promise to herself; she would come back, and when she did, she would bring the entire O’Brien family with her.

  Marty and Tilly must have possessed a sixth sense because both waited at the bottom of the staircase. “I didn’t think ya’d stay the night, an’ I’m sure sorry ’bout Mr. Flynn. I don’t think he’s in his right mind,” Marty said. Claire could see that it hurt the older man to speak such words about a man whom he admired and respected. There was probably some history between the two, Claire guessed.

  On impulse, she gave Marty a quick hug and kissed his ruddy cheek. Tilly lingered behind him, though Claire saw the bag she tried to hide behind her small frame. When she saw Claire looking at the bag, she stepped forward and held it out to her. “This is for your trip. It’s cheeses, and breads, with a fresh batch of cranberry orange scones. I put a slab of butter in a plastic bowl, and a knife, too, but it’s one of those plastic kind. I didn’t want you to get in any trouble with the airlines. I see how they take stuff away from people now. It’s a shame what the world has come to.”

  Claire stooped down and gave Tilly a tight hug. “Thank you so much, Tilly. I’m sorry I can’t stay and try another of your tasty dishes, but I’ll appreciate this”—she held up the bag—“on the flight home.” Before she knew it, tears filled her eyes. She sniffed, then Tilly handed her a wad of tissues. “Thanks, Tilly. Would you mind if I stayed in touch with the both of you?” Claire had only known the couple for a few short hours, but she felt as though she’d known them forever.

  “We’d like that,” Marty said, then removed a slip of paper from his pocket. “That’s our snail-mail address, and our e-mail addresses. If you want, friend us on Facebook, and we can stay in touch that way, too.”

  “I’d like that,” Claire said.

  “We better get on the road if we want to make it to the airport in time. Keep in touch with me, and if you need me here, just say the word.” Quinn shook Marty’s hand, then he practically lifted Tilly off the ground when he hugged her.

  Dark outside, the night air damp and bitterly cold, Claire suddenly remembered Quinn rode a motorcycle. “Do you have a car?” she asked as they walked to the side of the castle where Marty had parked earlier.

  “No,” he said.

  They were really going to ride a motorcycle to the airport? In this frigid night air? She’d be an iceberg by the time they arrived in Dublin! Or die of pneumonia!

  They walked to a modern building, that looked as if it were recently built. It didn’t have the stones like the area where Marty parked. Quinn removed a set of keys from a box, then unlocked the door. He flipped a light on, before Claire stepped inside. When she did, what she saw almost took her breath away. It did take her breath away.

  “You said you didn’t have a car.”

  “I don’t. I have several cars. I had this building constructed last year when I was here. Donald had a fit, but he loves these cars as much as I do. He kept them in a specialty garage in Dublin and never drove them. I finally convinced him the cars would be useless in a few years if he didn’t drive them. So, take your pick.” Quinn gestured to an array of vehicles.

  “Should I ask which you prefer?”

  “I like them all,” he said as he walked her through the rows of cars.

  “How many?” she asked.

  “Fifteen here, and three more in Dublin undergoing repairs.”

  “So, you’re telling me you have eighteen cars? Here in Ireland?”

  Quinn threw back his head and laughed. “I am.”

  She could only nod. “So, you pick. I know absolutely nothing about cars other than they get me from point A to point B.”

  “Stick with me, and I promise to teach you a thing or two,” Quinn said. Claire caught the double entendre.

  “The roads might get icy. I think we’d better take the Range Rover. It has four-wheel drive, too.”

  “Wait! I can’t leave yet. I have to call Kelly,” Claire suddenly remembered.

  “Okay, but you do know you can call her from the car? We’ve got cell towers here in Ireland, too,” Quinn teased as he unlocked a black Range Rover. He took her luggage and duffel bag and placed them in the back of the car, along with Tilly’s doggie bag.

  Unlocking the passenger door, he helped Claire climb inside. Once they were settled and their seat belts fastened, Quinn pressed a button, and an automatic door opened. “Nice,” Claire said.

  “Yes, building this was one of the best things I’ve done for myself in years,” Quinn said as he backed out of the garage.

  Claire supposed it was if you were a car buff but didn’t voice her thoughts.

  “
I’ll call Kelly now, if you don’t mind.”

  Quinn handed her his cell phone. “Use mine. It’s local.”

  “Sure,” Claire said as she searched through her purse for the paper with Kelly’s number and address. As soon as she found it, she punched in the number.

  “ ’Ello?”

  “Hi, Kelly, it’s Claire. From the plane,” she added, just in case Kelly had forgotten she’d given out her phone number.

  “Oh, Claire, it’s mighty fine ta hear ya voice. I was hopin’ you’d call.”

  She couldn’t help but smile hearing her heavily accented voice. “It’s hard to believe, but I’m on my way to the airport now. My business . . . only took a couple of hours.” And she wasn’t even bothering to spend the night? Claire realized how crazy she must sound. It’d been close to thirty-two hours since she’d slept in a bed.

  “Aye, that was fast, I must say. Are ya sure ya can’t stay? Paddy would love to see ya again.”

  Claire heard the laughter in her voice. “And I would like to see Paddy as well, but I have to rush home. I promised to spend Christmas with my family.”

  Though Claire had spent several hours with Kelly, she suddenly realized that all she knew about her was that her grandmother had passed away, and she had a newborn son. Come to think of it, Claire hadn’t heard her mention the baby’s father. She’d spoken of her mother, but never mentioned a husband, if she had a career or anything remotely personal.

  “That’s nice ya know. Family and Christmas. I was gonna decorate a tree this year, but aye, they’re so expensive. Paddy’s too wee to know about Christmas just yet,” Kelly said, her voice sounding far away and sad.