With a sheepish expression, he turned quickly away. "I keep them here. On Christmas Eve, I deliver them to the local orphanage so the kids there have something to play with."
For a moment, tears blurred her vision. "I never would have guessed you would do something like this." A tiny piece of the wall around her heart crumbled and fell. "It is truly commendable."
* * * *
"Commendable? I think not." Blake's laugh sounded bitter to his own ears. "I am not always the ass that you saw yesterday." He set the oil lamp down on his worktable. "One year I dressed as Father Christmas, but have not done it since that time." He wondered what the Sovereign had thought of that stunt. Elves who impersonated Santa were usually shunned. No matter. Those days were long behind him. "I usually leave the toys with the headmistress and come quietly back home."
Unheralded, unrewarded and alone.
"Do the kids know you are the benefactor?" Bethany's eyes were wide and round in the weak light, much like John's, and just as vulnerable. "Do you not want accolades?"
Did he? Perhaps years ago he had. Now? Those things were simply not as important as they had been before. He made the toys because he enjoyed the work.
Her gaze held his, sure and steady, and his conscience urged him to blurt out his secret. In the end, his courage deserted him and he sighed.
"Only the headmistress and my neighbor, Mrs. Abermarle, know. I do not want praise or public approval. It is my way of helping those less fortunate."
"You are truly the most selfless person I have ever met." Without warning, she threw her arms about his neck and hugged him. "You then extended that same kindness to me and my children when you were within your rights to toss us out into the street."
For the space of a few heartbeats, he did nothing. He couldn't. Happiness bubbled within his chest from her touch, her closeness, and it was as if he'd always been with her, as if he always should be.
The deep blue of her eyes drew him deeper, closer, until he had no desire to move. If he were honest with himself, he hadn't believed he'd have the chance to hold her in his arms after his behavior. When she didn't seem inclined to pull away, he gripped her waist, looked again into her eyes and gently lowered his mouth to hers.
Her lips were velvety soft and enticed him, spurred him to further exploration. Settling her more firmly in his arms, he teased her mouth with his tongue, ran its tip along their seam until they opened from his insistence. Bethany made a tiny sound of pleasure and tightened her grip around his neck. That little mew nearly drove all reason from his mind and he deepened the kiss, as if he'd been there before, but every second he embraced her was new and exciting. For every stroke and thrust of his tongue, she mimicked the actions until he broke their connection out of necessity and stepped away before his erection could strain against her stomach.
One more kiss and he'd be compelled to go much farther.
To give up everything. Even now, his ears tingled, a sure sign they would resume their normal shape if he lost control.
He wanted to lose control. It had been a long time.
He held her at arm's length as fear and elation played for dominance within him. "If everyone is as thankful for my work as you, maybe it would behoove me to let the deeds be known."
"Regardless of what you would receive, I do agree you should at least tell someone." She gave him a grin that shot prickles of need through his gut to lodge in his groin. "Why keep the secret?"
If only she knew the extent of his secret.
"I like the comfort of anonymity." If she insisted on gazing at him with that wide-eyed innocence, they would be up the stairs and tumbled in his bed before the night was over. Once that event occurred, he would not be able to keep his identity covered any longer. "Come, Bethany, we have much to discuss regarding the future." In the flash that happened while he turned down the lamp, he saw the fear creep back into her face.
"You are right, of course." She preceded him out of the room and waited while he locked the door. "I suppose you would rather my children not know about this room?"
"Yes. Under no circumstances are you or the kids to go in here, do you understand?" His words were harsh and clipped but that couldn't be helped. She needed to grasp his need for privacy. Too much poking about would reveal facts he wasn't ready to own up to.
He might lose her before he could claim her. After all, if the truth were told too soon, she would run like so many others before her.
"I already asked you that. No need for your crab-like attitude." Her chin went into the air and she marched down the hall.
Blake followed with his gaze trained on the subtle sway of her hips. God, the woman would drive him mad from distraction and she had no idea how ravishing she truly was. That made him want her more.
"I simply meant to make it abundantly clear that my workshop is off limits. I do not need little hands messing about and breaking things." His heart sank when she turned to face him at the stairs. Her eyes were bottomless pools of resignation.
"Shall we retire for the evening then? I would like to do my duty toward you sooner than later as I work the morning shift tomorrow." She edged up the first step.
No matter how much of a temptation she presented, he wanted her to desire him because she wanted to be with him—not because of some hastily-contrived financial arrangement or obligation.
"Bethany, no." He grabbed her hand, rubbed the soft skin of her palm. From her perch, she was directly eye level with him. "You are welcome to stay here with no fear of your virtue or reputation for the time being. Until Christmas, please consider my home yours, with the exception of the work room."
"What of the money?" Desperation shadowed her face to war with the fear.
"If you desire it over everything else then yes, we will have no choice but to begin our physical arrangement whenever you feel comfortable. You will have your precious payment on Christmas day. If necessary, I will even wrap a red bow around it." Hell and damnation! Everything returned to the money with the woman. A touch of anger slashed through his chest. His original assessment of the holiday season hadn't been wrong. The human race wanted nothing more than material things and cash was the most materialist thing of all.
In spite of her obvious care for the children, she had little else to redeem her. His instincts were usually good, so how had he gotten her so wrong?
"Thank you. I must make plans for my future, you see." She briefly bowed her head then raised it as if another thought occurred to her. "I am compelled to make you aware that I have never … I mean this situation is…" The words died in the air between them.
Oh, God.
Not only had he insulted the woman, but she was also a virgin to boot? Not that virginity, or lack thereof, was an issue. It was the way she'd told him with honesty that held him captive. What else could he say that would bring her smile back or chase the fear from her eyes?
Short of kissing her again.
He stifled a groan. What he wouldn't give to spend the rest of the evening showing her the finer points of lovemaking until she grew in confidence enough to want to play beneath the sheets every night. To do that act with him in spite of what he was.
It was hopeless. He was lost to everything but her, and he'd been a fool to think ill of her.
"Forgive me." Foreign protectiveness washed over him and he decided he couldn't hurt her. "We will discuss this at another time."
Bethany stared and her chin trembled and she bit down on her bottom lip, still swollen from their earlier kiss. "I accept your apology only if you accept mine for being such a shrew. This situation is bizarre at best." She reached out her free hand and brushed at the shock of hair that had fallen over his forehead.
He reeled from her touch as if he'd been burned.
"You have nothing to apologize for." He brought her hand to his lips, felt the shudder that shook through her body that matched his own and watched the flutter of a pulse in her neck just above the lace collar.
He needed her.
He made a definitive decision. No matter what bad luck followed her, he would do everything in his power to make the holiday grand for the misfit family that had landed in his life. Perhaps, if she were receptive to his advances, he would bed her or possibly attempt to woo her, entrust her with his life. The prospect of having someone to share the season with glimmered before him like a dream and he wished to recapture the early days in the Northern Realm.
Desperately.
"Blake?"
Realizing she waited for him to speak, he shook his head, putting his thoughts to the back of his mind. "Tomorrow, I would like to take the youngsters out and look for pine boughs. It has been years since this house resembled a proper place to welcome Father Christmas." The irony stuck in his side like a thorn.
Mentally, he reeled, knowing those words could very well seal his immediate fate. Never had he put himself out as he did now for this woman and her children. But oh, how relieved he felt when a small smile broke over her face.
"The children would enjoy that. John is forever asking about Santa Claus. I will have dinner waiting upon your return. Most likely it will continue to snow tomorrow as well."
"What about you, Bethany? Will you also enjoy a holiday-like atmosphere?"
"It has been a long time since I could." Her chin trembled but she recovered enough to remove her hand from his then turned and continued up the stairs. "Goodnight, Blake.
His groin stirred when he caught a glimpse of a ruffled white petticoat underneath her skirt as she reached the top step. This would be the longest Christmas season he'd passed in his whole life.
Chapter Five
Bethany opened the front door as quietly as she could, closing it just as softly behind her. She didn't want the children to wake so early, nor Blake. The last two tension-filled days exhausted her brain and she had no wish to begin a new round before the sun was up. Pulling the collar of her tight-fitting jacket around her neck, she snapped on her gloves and carefully moved through the scant three inches of snow that covered the ground. At the street, she stopped short. For the second time since meeting Blake, her jaw hung open as if it were a doorknocker.
He stood at the curb, fully dressed, complete with bowler hat on top of his dark hair. One hand held a raspberry-colored scarf while the other stroked the nose of a carriage horse. Upon seeing her, he grinned and it was as if the sun made an early appearance.
Her breath fogged in the cold air. "What are you doing out here?" She advanced toward him, nodding to the driver before giving Blake her full attention. "I did not hear you stir." Not for the world would she admit that she'd listened at his closed door after she finished dressing, a part of her hoping he'd sense her presence and call out.
"I knew you needed to leave before dawn but I did not want you to walk alone through the darkness. I hired a cab since it would seem someone's helpful little fingers gave my horse a bit of moldy hay he found in a corner of the carriage house, so now the poor girl has an equine stomachache."
"Oh, I am terribly sorry!"
"The vet has been apprised of the issue and will pay a visit later. I'm sure the horse will be fine, or so the man assured me. Mild colic. Nothing to be alarmed about."
"John mentioned he had fed a horse, but I had no idea—"
"No harm done." He stepped close into her personal space, cutting off her words with a finger on her lips. "I also noticed you are ill-attired for the cold. Mrs. Abermarle knitted you a scarf at my request." He slipped the accessory around her neck and tucked the ends into the collar. "Have a good day."
"I … I cannot understand you." She glanced at the house. When she didn't see the children, she returned her gaze to him. "Why are you doing this?"
"Doing what? Rising at this insane hour or showing you a bit of pre-holiday kindness?"
She ignored his counter-questions. "Remember that Sarah needs to be at the school by eight. What will we do about John? He can hardly go to the bank with you." She narrowed her eyes, not believing he had a serious enough disposition for the financial industry.
"Mrs. Abermarle has graciously consented to look after him until you arrive home. I will escort Sarah to her destination." His grin widened. "This evening we will talk of our plans for Christmas as well as other, more interesting endeavors."
With heating cheeks, Bethany climbed into the cab and stared out the window at him. He lifted a hand in goodbye and she did the same, catching herself before she could completely be made a fool.
What game did he play, and why did she feel like falling to pieces because of the simple gift of a scarf? She fingered the soft yarn and lifted one end to her nose. It smelled of oak, tobacco and apples and an unidentified something that made him unique. Blake's scent. What did John call it?
The smell of Christmas.
Tingles danced through her abdomen and warmth surged through her body. Just as quickly, she thrust the sensations aside. She couldn't let herself feel anything for him. He was a business partner, nothing more. Once she received the money he offered, she would take the children, start a new life and she would have no cause to remember him.
Except, how could she not? The feelings he stirred within her, the sensations that warmed her and awakened something both curious and foreign, could never be forgotten. Even now, when she said his name silently into her mind, curls of anticipation swam through her stomach.
It wasn't possible. He wasn't interested in anything beyond a body in his bed, yet how could she explain that uncommon connection?
Such were the intensity of her thoughts that she missed the passage through the quiet streets. The carriage pulled to a jerky halt in front of the hotel. It swayed when the driver jumped down, then the door opened a few seconds later.
"Here we are, miss. No need to pay me." He declined her coins when she offered them. "Your man already took care of the business end."
My man. Oh, the irony fate played.
"Thank you." She accepted his hand as she alighted. "Merry Christmas."
"The same to you, miss." He touched the brim of his hat and returned to his perch. With a slap of the reins, the carriage rolled down the street leaving tracks in the snow.
It was only when he rounded a corner that she realized she'd never told Blake the location of Sarah's school.
Bethany sighed. She had a feeling he could fend for himself.
Her life was a different sort of complication than it usually was.
Hurrying through the darkness, she entered the alley and knocked on the door. Since its only doorknob was on the inside, someone needed to admit the staff as they arrived at the restaurant. Under no circumstances was the help supposed to pass through the hotel lobby or be seen inside other than the dining room.
Not long afterward, the door opened and her burly boss stood in the yellow rectangle of light. An apron strained across his belly, already streaked with food stains. "Miss Cundiff. Why are you here?"
"I am scheduled to work the breakfast and lunch shifts. Stop joking, Mr. Lyle. It has been a trying few days." She made a move to slip past him, but he blocked her.
"I sent a notice to your residence last night. We no longer require your services."
"What do you mean?" Fear settled in her gut like overworked bread dough, heavy and dense. "I received no such notice." She looked in the man's impassive face as realization hit her. "Oh. I have been evicted, which would explain it."
"How was I supposed to know?" His massive shoulders lifted in a shrug. "This is the exact reason why we have let you go. Your life is in chaos. I cannot afford to have someone like you on my staff. You could snap at any moment and I cannot let you have any more time off. Everyone is warned of the rules upon hire."
"But I need this job!" Bethany hated the note of desperation in her voice. "I have done everything you have asked of me and more. I have been dedicated and pleasant, even when some of the customers have not. This is how you reward me?" Anger slipped in to replace the desperation.
"Be that as it may,
I cannot take the chance that your bad luck will filter into your ability to do your job." Concern clouded his deep-set eyes. "Besides, it is not my decision but that of the owner." He awkwardly patted her shoulder. "I do have your last bit of pay. Take it in good faith. I wish you luck."
In shock, she closed her gloved fingers around the bills and few coins he placed in her hand. "Thank you." Before she could say more, the door swung shut and she was left alone in the dark alley with nothing but snowflakes for company.
What now? She quickly counted the evidence of a few days of work. Six dollars and thirty-seven cents. A flutter of hysteria rose in her throat. No home and no employment meant no hope.
Thrusting the money into her handbag, Bethany trudged the length of the alley and stood, uncertain, on the sidewalk in front of the hotel. The windows of the dining room were still dark since breakfast wouldn't be served for another hour or so.
Not many people stirred along the streets. The occasional carriage and wagon rattled by to deliver goods to the businesses that lined the roadway. Farther down the pavement, shouts and good-natured teasing emanated from workers at a bakery as breads and pastries were loaded into baskets on bicycles.
Everyone had a purpose. They knew their exact reason for being.
What was her destiny? Her purpose?
As her vision blurred with tears, she impatiently brushed them away. Crying wouldn't resolve the problem. Pulling the scarf more firmly around her neck, she hunched her shoulders against the wind and began the trek to Blake's house. Had she been going to her former home, it would have been a mere four blocks. However, he lived farther away, probably over a mile or so.
Unless she wanted to spend a portion of her money for a cab. It all depended how cold she became while walking.
In the end, Bethany welcomed the exercise because it gave her a chance to think through her dilemma. The only answer for the immediate future was to give herself to Blake and be guaranteed the four hundred dollars. That would at least take some of the stress away, allow her to secure lodging and the leeway to look for a replacement job.
Disenchanted Christmas Page 5
