by Sharon Page
“And now that Mr. Gazara has welcomed you,” a male voice resonated around them, “he’ll be returning to his work.”
Tess jerked away. Damn it, why did Johnny wear such a triumphant smile? She barely knew him, and already he’d compromised her—presumably in front of the man she’d come to work for!
“I’m delighted to meet you, Tess,” he went on. “We heard of your arrival only moments ago, or I would’ve fetched you at the station. Edgar Penney at your service, my dear.”
In the floor-to-ceiling mirrors, his reflection became a caricature caught in a kaleidoscope: A man dressed in a red, ermine-trimmed cloak and shiny black boots stepped briskly in front of her, his wrap swirling about his red trousers. Beneath his matching hat, his boyish grin widened as he gazed eagerly at her, holding her spellbound with his sparkling brown eyes. He caught her hands and fervently kissed her knuckles. Before Tess knew what was happening, he unfastened her cloak to sweep it back from her face and off her shoulders.
“Oh, my,” he breathed. He glanced at Johnny Gazara. “Won’t she look fetching in an elf suit?”
“She’d look fetching without one,” Gazara muttered.
Edgar Penney assessed her with a lingering look, turning her face slightly, one side to the other, then stepping back to observe how her waist nipped in above her hips. He stared for a moment, as though he were looking through her black dress and her bloomers and corset. “I’m sorry for your loss, Mrs. Bennett. My mission is to put a smile on that arresting face and a song in your heart while you’re here with us.”
Tess’s cheeks went hot. “I . . . My telegram must’ve sounded arrogant or cocky—”
“Around here, cocky is the norm.” Penney’s fingers followed the rise of her cheekbones to her ears.
“And I didn’t mean to imply . . . for all I know you’ve hired an assistant, because the newspaper was dated—”
“And where did you see that paper, dear Tess?”
The room echoed with a silence she didn’t know how to interpret. But then, what had made sense since the moment she’d met these two men? Johnny Gazara stood staunchly beside this dashing Santa, refusing to relinquish first rights to her, while Mr. Penney lifted her chin with his finger. “In the train station. In Memphis, sir.”
“Memphis! That explains your bewitching accent.” He grinned at Gazara again. “Who could’ve imagined my advertisement would make its way from the Rockies to the Mississippi? And then attract this Southern belle—precisely the right Penney Candy girl—to our door? Magic, I tell you! Never stop believing in magic!”
Tess held her breath. What might Mr. Penney do next? No gentleman would take such liberties with a woman he’d met mere seconds ago, and yet he’d proclaimed her perfect—precisely right. And this after catching her in another man’s embrace. “It is magic,” she whispered. “And if ever I needed a visit from Saint Nicholas, it would be now.”
Edgar Penney’s eyes melted like chocolate. As though he, too, had suffered her trials this year, he wrapped his arms around her, holding her so close his exquisite ermine collar tickled her face as he breathed. He smelled clean and fresh, and his smooth-shaven cheek felt heavenly against hers. She sensed that in the silence of this memorable moment, important matters were being considered and problems were being solved . . . perhaps by this man’s magic.
“You’ve come to the right place, Tess,” he murmured. “Your life’s about to take a wild turn—for the better. What we make here is joy! The candy is merely a token of that.”
Tess longed to believe him. But what if this fellow turned out to be a shyster? A man who lured unassuming women to this remote outpost to—
She shook her head to free it from this unspeakable idea.
“Are you all right, dear heart?” Penney’s fingertip teased the rim of her ear. “You’ve had a long journey, and it’s rude of me to keep you standing here without explaining things. You see, I’m Edgar Penney. Each December, my Penney Candy girls hand out sweets to orphans at our charity events, where local merchants place their seasonal orders and our wealthier guests donate to the children’s cause. Do you think you could do that for me?”
Just keep talking so I can watch your mouth. Tess blinked at this blatant thought. Moments ago she’d been losing herself in Johnny Gazara’s kiss, and now she was allowing another man to hold her while Johnny watched. What had happened to the model wife and mother she’d been for so many years? It was as though Mrs. Henry Bennett had blown away with the powdery snow.
Then her eyes widened. “You mean, the Penney Candy? Known around the world for its vivid colors and incredibly intense flavors?”
“The very one.”
“But you can’t be old enough to . . . I mean . . .” Tess flushed at her rude remark. “The man on the packages leads one to believe you’ve been around, well, almost as long as Santa himself!”
“I took over the business from my grandfather. Generations have enjoyed our candy, and I didn’t want to lose our customers’ trust by changing our image.” When Edgar removed his close-fitting red hat, his shimmering brown hair framed his face like a windswept mane. And indeed, he seemed the lionish sort, all high cheekbones and angular facial planes. “Shall we continue this interview while I show you the candy factory?”
“Oh, yes, I’d like that!”
“Excellent!” He gave Johnny a purposeful look. “Tell Blythe and Daphne I wish to remain uninterrupted during our tour. They’ll meet Tess in due time.”
Why did Gazara look like he’d bitten a lemon? Was he peeved about being upstaged? “Yes, of course, Edgar,” he muttered. “We’ll not wait for you at dinner, then.”
“Please ask Hortense to freshen the room adjoining mine for our guest,” her host continued breezily, “and, if you would be so kind, please take Mrs. Bennett’s trunks there so she may unpack after our tour.”
The vestibule grew quiet as both men looked for luggage. Johnny turned toward the door, thinking her personal effects were still outside.
“I have no trunks,” Tess confessed. She held Edgar’s penetrating gaze while she thought up a logical reason for this. But there was nothing logical about anything she’d done since Reed Mahaffey had come to the house too early, was there?
“I left home on the spur of a desperate moment.” She sighed. No sense in lying, but no good reason to reveal every detail, either. “My husband and little girl died from yellow fever last summer. I couldn’t spend December in the home where they had delighted in trimming the tree and shaking the presents. Matter of fact,” she added sadly, “when I realized I had no one to buy gifts for, I couldn’t stay in Memphis a moment longer. I . . . I didn’t mean to burden you with my tale of woe.”
“Tess, I’m sorry.” Johnny squeezed her shoulder, his brow furrowed with sympathy. “It’s good you didn’t put yourself through the holiday alone.”
“I repeat: It’s my mission to put the roses back in your cheeks and to help you celebrate the season again.” Edgar smiled warmly. “You’re the perfect elf for handing out treats to our orphans! They’ll sense your compassion—a kindred spirit. And you, in turn, will rediscover the joy of giving.”
Her eyes filled with tears, damn it. She hadn’t intended to invoke their pity. While she had sidestepped the topic of Mahaffey’s one-sided courtship, she hadn’t exactly lied. Gifts for her staff didn’t count, the way presents for Henry and Claire had....
And what could she possibly tell the Delaneys about where she’d gone and what she’d done? They would worry about her, no matter how Warren Coates assured them she was safe. But it was too late to be concerned about that, wasn’t it?
Edgar Penney fixed her in his brown-eyed gaze as he offered his elbow. “Shall we go? I have so much to show you, my dear!”
5
“Would you look at him? Showing off the factory with such a grandiose air—as though he might bequeath it to her!” Johnny glared through the narrow band of windows that served as a supervision post in Edgar’s suite. O
n either side of him, Blythe and Daphne watched Edgar and Tess as well. The conveyors clacked along, bearing specialty chocolates, Pinwheel Pops, and every sort of sweet imaginable as factory workers sorted and sacked, yet he had eyes only for the couple in red and black.
“No different from the way he escorted me around when I answered his ad,” Blythe replied in a nostalgic tone. “Ten years it’s been. I was as awed by him then as I am now. As amazed by his magic as Tess Bennett is.”
“Same for me, five years ago,” Daphne chimed in. “Edgar Penney has an ageless, childlike appeal about him. My own appearance changes with the years, yet he seems no different from the day I came here.”
Johnny rolled his eyes. “And what we’re watching doesn’t bother you? Anyone can see he’s more than smitten with Mrs. Bennett!”
“Is that a green streak in your voice, Johnny?” The flaxen curls at Daphne’s temples quivered with her suppressed laughter. “Matter of fact, he intends to leave his factory to Blythe and me because he has no heirs—and because we’ll carry on his traditions with the orphans.”
“How do you feel about sharing your inheritance with another woman?” Johnny snapped. “Not to mention how cozy this bedroom will be with three of you pleasuring him! He’s putting Tess in the adjoining room, you know.”
Blythe, the older and more gracious of the two Penney Candy girls, placed her hands on his shoulders. “Johnny,” she murmured, “it’s not like you to sound so critical. We certainly can’t complain about our pay or the living conditions.”
“Speak for yourselves,” he spouted. “You’re not living like a monk in a whorehouse!”
“Really!” Daphne’s lips pursed in a pretty pout. “I never dreamed you considered Blythe and me—”
“That’s not what I meant. I’m sorry.” Johnny inhaled to steady his temper, yet that only made him more aware of the lemon verbena soap she and Blythe had bathed with. Thoughts of them splashing in Edgar’s big tub together only irritated him more, because he couldn’t recall how Tess Bennett smelled. But her kiss was absolute heaven.
“You have no idea what it’s like to live with two beautiful women who parade around half naked—or romp with Ed—while I must keep my hands and my . . . urges to myself,” he explained. “It damn near kills me some days. I had to cut seven extra holly leaves yesterday because you two were playing hide-and-seek with him while I worked.”
“But we love having you here, Johnny. You could play with us,” Blythe replied. Her golden hair fell in loose waves around her shoulders, still damp from her bath. “While Edgar takes wonderful care of us, I feel better knowing there’s another man in the house, you know? It’s such a rambling place we’d not be aware of an intruder until it was too late.”
“An intruder?” Daphne pulled her filmy white robe more closely around her shoulders. “Who would ever think of—”
“People realize how wealthy Edgar Penney is,” the other blonde pointed out. “But I’m not really afraid of strangers getting inside, for he’s devised ingenious safeguards. What I meant was that Johnny’s become such a part of our family that we’d miss him if he were to go. He’s a rock of reality in this world that runs on Edgar’s make-believe and magic.”
“Thank you, Blythe.”
“Go? Where would you go, Johnny?” Daphne draped an arm around his shoulders, which meant one delectable breast brushed his chest. Her eyes didn’t quite focus when she looked at him.
Johnny sighed. These lovelies had caught him in a conversational trap, and he’d never intended to offend or upset them. He’d never considered them whores, either. They’d escaped difficult lives to accept Edgar Penney’s job and generosity. Not their fault that Ed took his pleasure as seriously as he did his business. What woman would refuse such a sweet deal?
Will Tess see this place for what it is? A playhouse for adults who indulge their fantasies? A playpen for pretty blondes who . . .
He glanced through the window again, down into the vast expanse of the factory, where a man in red had his arm around a blonde in black. It looked far too intimate already. “I’m concerned that Mrs. Bennett will be lured into this candy-striped cave before she realizes the consequences,” he said sadly. “Edgar will catch her with his flattery and keep her with his opium. Just like he has the rest of us.”
Two pairs of blue eyes widened. Two pretty blond heads tilted at coquettish angles as Daphne and Blythe considered what he’d said.
Blythe let out a sad-but-wise sigh. “I’ve always known about Edgar’s addiction, but I’ve been a willing victim, Johnny.” Her grin quirked. “Nobody’s making me stay. I’ve banked plenty of money to live in the real world, if I cared to.”
“Oh, don’t leave me!” Daphne whimpered. “I’m so happy here, and . . . and where would I go? This will always be home to me, Blythe, so I want you to stay, too. And you, Johnny. Please? Please?”
The younger blonde had always been more susceptible to quicksilver moods, and her very round, very wide eyes suggested she’d been hitting the hookah. Daphne had been abandoned by a man who’d beaten her nearly to death, so Johnny understood why she wanted to stay here with Penney, out of circulation: She probably feared that “intruder” would be the beast from whom Ed had rescued her.
And what was Tess Bennett’s story? There was more to her tale than a deceased husband and daughter—although a double dose of death might drive any woman to desperation. Her telegram had suggested a strong, playful spirit, yet still he saw those sad blue eyes peering out from beneath her black cloak. His heart swelled with the need to protect her. To honor her.
Who are you kidding? Before Penney showed up, you were seducing her.
Yes, there was that. Yet Tess appealed to him in a deeper, more sacred way. Any woman who’d left home with only the clothes on her back to answer an advertisement that took her far from the life she’d known had a backbone. She deserved better than to become one of Penney’s playthings. She should have another family. People to love, who loved her in return.
Stirred by the intensity of this emotion, Johnny tightened all over. He suddenly wanted to be the man who made up for the husband and child Tess had lost—the friend, the lover, who saved her from growing old as a Penney Candy girl, only to be eclipsed when Edgar brought in yet another perky, petite blonde.
And where is THIS coming from? You’ve sworn to never let another woman wrap her strings around you like a noose.
Daphne still leaned on him, pleading with Blythe. In her high, childish whine, he heard the fate he could not allow Tess Bennett to know; he heard the call to get out of this house and become an artist who lived up to his abilities. His calling.
Johnny trembled at the thought. And for once it felt like an adventure—a quest to follow his star rather than a random twist of fate. Tess would inspire him to seek out the cathedrals and theaters where his stained-glass creations would capture the imaginations of more than Edgar Penney and his girls.
After all, how many people would ever see the artwork he’d lavished upon the walls of this recluse’s hideaway? How many months of his life had he devoted to Ed’s whims, when he could’ve been creating art that mattered?
Once more he observed the couple strolling the aisles of the busy candy factory. His heart thumped harder as he realized what he must do. Tonight.
6
Tess gazed around the beautiful room Edgar’s housekeeper had freshened for her. The walls were covered in pink swirled paper that reminded her of cotton candy. A bed with a white canopy and counterpane took her back to her childhood; she could forget about that lonely home in Memphis, where Margaret and George clucked over her every crying spell. Here in this tucked-away haven—attached to the Penney Candy Factory! —she could feel like a girl again, yet soon she’d brighten the lives of hundreds of children who had no families. With a smile and a candy-stuffed stocking, she could bring them the spirit of Christmas. That sounded so much better than moping at home, trying to elude Reed Mahaffey.
Tes
s threw herself happily onto the bed. She felt tired from her journey, yet renewed. Eager to begin her work with the magical man who’d greeted her as Santa, whose voice and gentle manner encouraged her to be open to childlike wonderment again. Awe and amazement didn’t come close to describing what her tour of Edgar’s factory had inspired in her.
The man was a genius. Not only had he transformed his grandfather’s floundering, outdated business into the world’s best-known candy factory, he kept his employees happy on the job. By providing a pleasant, colorful workplace—enhanced greatly by Johnny Gazara’s stained-glass designs—Edgar Penney had inspired the utmost loyalty in his factory workers, not to mention the two Penney Candy girls who had made his charity events more successful with each Christmas season.
Tess opened the drawer of the white nightstand. Magic again! Hortense had provided her a nightgown, and through the bathroom door she saw jars of bath salts and fluffy towels. A soak in a tub of hot, bubbly water sounded so heavenly. . . .
As she draped her black dress over a chair, Tess saw how out of place it looked in this room untouched by loneliness or grief. Come tomorrow, I’ll no longer wear mourning. She smiled as she twisted the spigots and tossed in some scented salts. As she sank into the warm, lemon-scented bubbles, her head lolled blissfully against the rim of the tub. She would close her eyes for only a moment....
As the water rose around her body, her cares floated away. She recalled phrases from Edgar’s conversation, and then it was that dark-haired rogue she saw in her mind’s eye—the one who’d tricked her into kissing him. She barely knew his name. Her body, however, had no such qualms: Her belly tightened with anticipation as she thought about what she secretly wanted Johnny Gazara to do to her.
She could picture him now, running his hand along her leg under the bathwater. Oh, how he made her quiver when his fingertips caressed her inner thighs but went no farther.
“Please . . . please,” she murmured, showing him where she longed for his touch. Her legs parted so he couldn’t possibly miss the hint—how brazen Johnny made her feel when he gazed at her with those obsidian eyes. And the nerve of him, to tease the sensitive skin of her abdomen on the way to tweaking her nipples! Her breasts swelled, aching for his touch, and as he cupped one and then the other, a wanton sigh escaped her.
