A Knight Before Christmas

by Alicia Dean

  "That feels good," he murmured.

  "Thanks," she said breathlessly.

  "No. Thank you." He groaned, and her fingers stilled. She

  sucked in a breath and closed her eyes as a warm, yearning

  languor spread through her body.

  He shifted to face her, and she dropped her hands. His

  eyes roamed over her face and settled on her lips, then rose

  once more to hers. His were an intense golden hue and

  sparked with an inner flame.

  "Want me to do you?" he asked.

  Her eyes rounded, and she caught her breath. "What?"

  His lips spread into a slow grin. "Give you a neck rub."

  "Oh." She laughed shakily and ran a hand through her

  hair. "No. That's okay. My neck's fine." She couldn't imagine

  how she'd handle having his warm strong hands roaming over

  her skin.

  "Okay then." His voice was brusque as he stood. "I guess

  you can show me where I'll be staying."

  She nodded and stood also. Her legs weren't quite steady

  as she led him toward the door connecting their units.

  The door Nicolette opened led directly into a bedroom.

  Heath dropped his duffel on the bed and followed Nic while

  she showed him the other rooms.

  This side of the duplex looked exactly like Nic's, other than

  the decor. There were minimal furnishings, a couple of

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  paintings on the walls, and a bouquet of fake flowers on a

  side table.

  "Here." Nic handed him a key. Their fingers briefly touched

  before she pulled back. Just like she hadn't wanted him to rub

  her neck. She wanted to avoid touching. Was it because she'd

  felt the same thing he had while she was massaging him? And

  when he'd almost kissed her?

  Not likely. After all, women didn't get boners, did they?

  Geez, he was pathetic. A friend offered an innocent neck rub

  and he acted like she'd given him a hand job. He shook his

  head to clear his thoughts.

  "There's another bedroom upstairs," Nic was saying.

  "There are clean sheets on both beds and blankets. Clean

  towels are in the bathroom cabinet." She moved to the

  kitchen, and he followed. "I wasn't expecting guests, so

  there's not much to eat here. There should be some

  beverages in the fridge." She opened the door to inspect and

  nodded. "Beer, bottled water, sodas. A few condiments." She

  opened one of the cabinets. "Some canned goods, but not a

  lot to choose from. I can shop for you tomorrow, if you'll give

  me a list. I know there's coffee here for in the morning, but if

  you want breakfast, you'll have to come next door or grab

  something out."

  "I'll take care of that. Mom wants me to come out to the

  house for breakfast. I won't bother you in the morning, unless

  I have more questions. I made a few notes, some things to

  follow up on so I'll be gone a good part of the day."

  "Okay then. I guess you're set."

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  "I guess I am." On impulse, he said, "Would you want to

  go with me in the morning?"

  "To investigate?"

  "No. For breakfast. Mom said I should invite you over."

  She smiled. "That was sweet of her. Tell her thank you,

  but I have to go into work early tomorrow. Maybe some other

  time."

  "Right. I'll tell her." He almost invited her to Christmas

  then, but he didn't. He didn't want to seem needy or insinuate

  that he thought there was something more going on between

  them than a friend doing a favor for another friend.

  "Well, goodnight then," she said. "Call me if you need

  anything. Or just knock on the door we came through.

  Otherwise, I guess I'll see you tomorrow evening."

  "Sounds good. If I have any questions throughout the day

  about the investigation, can I call you at work?"

  "Yeah. Sure. Just call my cell phone."

  He watched her walk away and disappear through the

  door. His body tingled as if her soft fingers still touched his

  skin.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  113

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  Chapter Eight

  Nicolette wandered through the house. Silence closed in

  around her. The emptiness seemed more pronounced now

  that Heath was gone. She went to the wedding photo he'd

  been looking at. It was her favorite. Heath looked

  devastatingly handsome in a white tux and black silk shirt

  with a black tie. She remembered, even on the day of her

  wedding, feeling a twinge of jealousy that Juliette was the

  one who got to walk with Heath down the aisle, was his

  companion for the evening. Juliette and Heath had flirted like

  crazy. Nicolette always wondered if they'd slept together, but

  never asked either of them. She didn't want to learn that they

  had.

  In the bathroom, she brushed her teeth and slipped into

  her pajamas, then went to bed. Once there, she tossed

  restlessly for what felt like hours. She looked at the clock. A

  little after eleven. She hadn't been in bed all that long, but

  she didn't feel like she'd ever fall asleep.

  Throwing back the covers, she climbed out of bed. Maybe

  warm milk would help. Something had to. She couldn't stop

  thinking about the blackmailer, wondering if it was a mistake

  to bring Heath in on this. What if he ended up getting hurt?

  Or, what if he told someone, and the details of Rudy's past

  leaked out?

  No. She didn't have to worry about that. She could trust

  Heath. And he wouldn't get hurt. He knew what he was doing.

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  He was in the military and had been a cop for several years.

  Now he had his started here and went up own security firm.

  Yes, Heath could take care of himself. He was smart and

  would probably figure out who was behind this, but then

  what? They still couldn't go to the police. How would they

  stop the guy, short of killing him, even if Heath uncovered his

  identity? Maybe if Heath gave him a good scare, let him know

  they were onto him, he'd just go away. Especially since he'd

  made quite a profit in the past few months.

  She moved through the dark house. In the kitchen, she

  made do with the night light plugged into the outlet. The

  house was chilly. Nicolette shivered, wishing she'd put on her

  robe.

  She put a cup of milk in the microwave. As she waited for

  it to heat, she glanced out the window that looked out over

  the backyard. Although it was well after dark, the bright snow

  lit up the night. A figure moved across her yard, and her

  heart started beating so fast and hard it was almost painful.

  Dear God. Someone was out there. Should she get Heath?

  The ding of the microwave made her jump. Taking the mug

  from the microwave, she peered out the window once more.

  The intruder moved close enough that she recognized him.

  Heath! Her relie
f was so strong she nearly wept.

  She watched him move around the semi-dark yard in

  confident strides. He was checking things out. Making sure

  she was safe. Protecting her.

  She gripped the warm mug between her hands and sipped

  cautiously. In addition to her fears and uncertainties about

  the blackmail and Rudy's murder, she had to be honest and

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  acknowledge the biggest concern of all. How could she keep

  herself from falling in love with Heath all over again?

  Heath, his brothers, and his future sister-in-law gathered

  in the kitchen for breakfast, his mother busy at the stove. Her

  efforts sent the tantalizing aroma of sausage in the air. Heath

  sniffed appreciatively.

  The waffle iron dinged, signaling one of her mouth-

  watering waffles was up for grabs. As Clint went for it, Heath

  tried to cut him off by shoving his empty plate in Clint's path.

  "Mine. Back off." Clint lightly hit Heath on the arm to

  deflect his aim.

  Heath grinned and tried to shoulder his older brother

  away. "Gotta move faster, Clinty."

  Clint gave a mock scowl. "Don't touch that waffle, Candy."

  Heath rolled his eyes at the childhood nickname, and didn't

  bother to remind Clint he'd gotten his name from Lee Major's

  character on the Big Valley series, not the candy bar. Heath

  had spent most of his life pointing out that fact, but his

  brothers insisted on calling him Candy because they liked to

  torment him. Although Heath always despised the nickname,

  his spirits lifted with the good-natured banter. He growled at

  Clint, but moved aside and let him have the waffle.

  When his turn finally came, he helped himself and held his

  plate out for his mom to add a few sausage patties, then

  joined the others at the table.

  He eyed his younger brother and his fiancee, noting the

  almost tangible tension between them. Not exactly the affinity

  he'd expect from a couple pledging to spend the rest of their

  lives together, but then, in the short time he'd known

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  Sydney, he'd discovered that she managed to inspire tension

  in everyone around her.

  Thoughts of Nicolette surfaced, and he wondered how

  she'd fit into the King family picture. Pretty damned well, he

  concluded. His family already liked her. Once they got to

  know her better, they'd love her. Too bad Heath wasn't

  allowed to, or at least not in the way he wanted.

  He shoveled food down faster, suddenly anxious to launch

  his investigation. Someone was threatening Nic. If he couldn't

  make her his, the least he could do was protect her.

  As any friend would.

  He looked at his mother, still working at the stove.

  Between bites, he said, "So, Mom. Why the insistence we

  come for breakfast?"

  She placed a skillet of eggs on the table. The three

  brothers took turns heaping their plates. Sydney nibbled on

  dry toast, ignoring the sumptuous feast.

  "Well, boys, it seems to be the only time I can get my

  family in one place at one time." Amelia settled into a chair at

  the head of the table and, one by one, favored her sons with

  a look that meant she'd not be challenged. "Keeley's coming

  by today. She called late yesterday afternoon. Asked if I

  minded. I've invited her over, and I want to tell you all, at the

  same time, I won't tolerate any shenanigans. You'll behave.

  Treat her like family."

  The food in Heath's mouth seemed to congeal in mid-

  chew. He managed to swallow but pushed his plate away.

  That was the last thing he'd expected, or wanted, his mother

  to say. He'd known of the likelihood that the interloper would

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  be forced on him at some point, but he certainly wasn't ready

  for it to happen yet.

  "I'll have to reserve the pleasure for another time," he

  finally said. "I wasn't planning to come back today."

  His mother cast a searching look his way, as if trying to

  detect whether he was being a smartass. She didn't

  comment, and he didn't elaborate further, didn't add that, if it

  were up to him, he'd never meet Keeley Jacobs.

  Sydney snarled, "Isn't that just peachy." She stood

  abruptly, ran her hands down her skirt, then turned a

  venomous gaze to Alex. "I'm going into the city for a while.

  Remember what I told you."

  What had she told him? That, in actuality, she was a

  demon and the ceremony would have to be held beneath a

  full moon, while her minions sacrificed a virgin? At least that

  would make the wedding interesting enough to give Heath a

  reason to be there.

  Alex watched his fiancee storm from the room and shook

  his head. "She's just stressed about the wedding."

  "You're the one who should be stressed," Heath said

  before he could stop himself. "You've got to wake up to that

  every morning for the rest of your life."

  At Alex's stricken look, Heath wished he could take it back.

  His mother scowled at him, but didn't comment. He was

  certainly scoring a lot of points with her today. At this rate,

  she'd be glad he wasn't staying here this week.

  Before either of his brothers could weigh in, Amelia turned

  to Alex. "Now, Alex, I need you to run me over to Margery

  Thomas's house before Keeley arrives. I'm on the Kappa's

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  Annual Association Meeting committee, and I need to go over

  venue details with her." With that, she stood and limped

  toward the door.

  When only he and Clint were left, Clint said, "What's going

  on with you?"

  Clint's question brought him out of his reverie, and he

  looked up with a frown. "What do you mean?"

  "I mean you haven't been yourself. What's bugging you?"

  Heath stared out the window at the festive holiday display

  in the front yard. He tapped his fork on the plate and

  muttered, "Friend of mine's in trouble."

  "Is she pretty?" Clint said with a grin.

  Wondering how much he should reveal, Heath decided to

  give his brother something. Heaving a sigh, he leaned back in

  his chair. "It's Nicolette."

  Clint remained silent as he processed the information. His

  brother knew Heath had a thing for Nicolette in college. What

  he may not know is that the 'thing' hadn't ended when Rudy

  won the girl. After a few moments, Clint gazed steadily at

  Heath. "So not just any woman."

  Heath didn't respond, but the expression on his face must

  have portrayed his consternation.

  "Careful there, little brother," Clint said, "that 'friends'

  thing can get a little tricky."

  No shit. Like they all hadn't noticed the new way Clint

  looked at their surrogate sister, Jesse. "I suppose you'd

  know." Heath experienced a modicum of perverse satisfaction
/>
  when Clint's amused look became a scowl. Going in for the

  kill, he said, "You've been spending a lot of time with Jesse."

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  Clint gave a reluctant nod. "Yeah."

  Heath smiled at Clint's discomfort and offered a bit of

  wisdom he'd gleaned from his own disconcerting mess. Plus,

  he felt it was only fair that he issue a warning. After all, he'd

  have to whip his older brother's ass if Clint toyed with Jesse

  and ended up hurting her. "Be careful there, big brother."

  Clint seemed to be digesting the advice, but before he

  could reply, Heath stood. Time to head out. He had a woman

  of his own to protect.

  His own. Right. She wasn't his own in the sense he wanted

  her to be, so he'd have to make do with what he had. Which,

  right now, was the opportunity to be near her. As he carried

  his plate to the sink, he threw over his shoulder, "Well, I've

  got some things to do. I'll talk to you later."

  Clint nodded, and Heath left him deep in thought. The

  house was empty. Good. That meant he wouldn't have to

  suffer through any more probing questions as he made his

  way out the door and into the cold December morning.

  Heath drove a few miles down his mother's road to an

  abandoned farmhouse. The small farmhouse was gray now

  but Heath remembered it being bright yellow. He couldn't

  recall who had lived there, but knew no one had in years. The

  grass was dead now, but in the spring it would grow to nearly

  chest high before someone—either the unfortunate owners or

  the city—would cut it down.

  The driveway almost wasn't there, but two barely

  discernible trails were left. Heath pulled onto them, then

  parked behind a row of bare trees. As he'd done with almost

  every ancient structure he'd seen since he was a small boy,

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  Heath wondered if the James Gang had ever hidden here. All

  his life, he'd been fascinated by their story and had convinced

  his parents to take him out to see the James farm twenty

  miles away in Kearney as often as he could. They'd seemed

  somewhat amused and a tad concerned that their middle son

  was so enthralled with a notorious outlaw like Jesse James.

  Leaving the Tahoe running, Heath slid the seat back to