by Susan Meier
Hugo surprised her. “Actually, that might be a good idea. There are a few things I’d like to see a child’s reaction to.”
Erin’s lungs filled with air again. “Really?”
“Sure.” He smiled at Marge. “You go. He’ll be fine here.”
With a kiss on Noah’s cheek, Marge scampered off.
Hugo stooped in front of Noah. “You remember me, right?”
Noah nodded.
“I’m going to show you something really special. Will you come with me?”
He nodded eagerly.
Hands on Noah’s waist, Hugo lifted him as he rose. “I want to see his reaction to the courtyard garden.”
“Sure,” Erin said, so confused she would have liked to sit again. It almost seemed like the guy she knew in Manhattan was gone. The man she’d thought had a heart of stone had taken to her son as if he loved him. He’d sent cards to his brother and sister that were never delivered. He was good to her mom...and to her. Very, very good to her.
Her heart stumbled with hope.
Maybe it hadn’t been a mistake to fall in love with him?
CHAPTER ELEVEN
THEY MADE THEIR way to the ballroom, Hugo holding Noah and Noah giggling with excitement.
He glanced down at the little boy and the strangest feelings rippled through him. This little boy needed a father. Another reason for him to make sure he backed off his relationship with Erin when they returned to Manhattan. If something serious ever happened between him and Erin, he would be Noah’s stepfather.
His breath stuttered. He’d had the worst example of a stepfather imaginable.
Of course, that could mean he knew what not to do.
He shook his head, telling himself these thoughts were pointless. He wasn’t made for a family. He was a businessman. Someone who worked at all hours of the night if he had to. Plus, his goal of getting his family together was in reach.
He couldn’t divide his attention and miss that opportunity. Jay’s call on Monday had shown him how easily his own family could slip through his fingers. His goals could turn to dust. The hole in his heart could remain cold and barren simply because he lost focus.
They walked through the clean space, newly painted, floors redone and round tables being set up around the dance floor. When the doors opened on to the garden, his breath stalled. Plants that had been put into place fully grown were dewy from the mist that spritzed down on them every morning. A miniforest with fir trees, winterberry shrubs and snow surrounded a skating rink that looked like a frozen lake. Tiles created walkways between the plants and two sections had been arranged: the skating rink and the area housing Santa’s throne.
His lungs couldn’t seem to fill. It would be the perfect addition to the Christmas Eve launch party for the restored Harrington Park.
“Do you see that chair over there?” he said to Noah, pointing across the garden. “That’s actually a throne.”
Noah only looked at him, waiting for more information.
Their eyes locked for a few seconds and a strange connection began to form. It was as if the little boy was checking him out to see if he was worthy of liking.
Finally, Hugo said, “Because he’s so special, Santa sits on a throne.”
Noah gasped. “Santa?”
The little squeal broke the spell of connection. Hugo wondered if he’d imagined it, but he also got the feeling he’d just scored major points with Noah. “Yes. Santa will be here.”
Noah squirmed to be put down and Hugo lowered him to the floor. He scampered over to the throne, a tall-backed chair with a red velvet seat and trimmed with gold paint.
Catching Hugo’s gaze, Noah said, “I saw Santa.”
“I know. I was with you, remember?”
“Noah also saw him in Ireland.” Erin walked over to the throne. “I think he’s confused because he’s already seen him twice, and I’m sure Irish Santa spoke with an accent.”
Connection wove around and through them. Him to Erin. Erin to Noah. Noah back to Hugo again. It was almost as rich and deep as the feelings he’d had around his family when his father had been alive. He blamed it on the space. The throne they were using for Santa had been around since his father had planned the Christmas Eve event.
He cautiously answered Erin. “I’m sure he did have a bit of a brogue.”
Erin stooped in front of Noah. “Santa can be many places.” She winced and faced Hugo again. “Won’t the kids wonder what Santa’s doing at the hotel when he’s supposed to be delivering presents?”
“My dad always told them that he didn’t start his rounds until midnight. Then our Santa would make a big deal out of leaving. He’d wave and say he had lots of work to do and every kid in the room would get big-eyed with anticipation.”
He could see it in his mind, feel the excitement from all those years ago, but with Erin and Noah added in, as if they belonged.
She smiled. “Sounds nice.” Rising, she said, “Look at what you’ve done, Hugo. Everything is beautiful.”
He took a breath, easing thoughts of Erin and Noah aside, unexpectedly afraid Jay and Sally might not see it as he did. “My brother and sister loved the original trees and the Santa throne. Maybe changing things isn’t a good idea?”
“You think they aren’t going to approve?” She laughed. “After everything Sally did to create this place?”
Their gazes connected and he quietly said, “Yes.”
She might not see it because she didn’t know his entire past.
“I guess if it isn’t quite right, we can always change it back next year.”
She smiled. “Hey, look at you, being all flexible.”
He laughed. That was one of the things he liked about her. Even when the past grabbed him, she lured him to see the future. His long-held beliefs about himself, his life, shivered through him, but they didn’t have their usual power. They were weak. Insubstantial.
“I do have my moments when I recognize flexibility helps.”
Noah ran over and put his little arms up for Hugo to hold him, and the future leaped to his brain again. Teaching this boy to throw a ball. Helping him with homework. Reading bedtime stories—
Then relaxing in the master bedroom with his mother.
He’d never seen anything so clearly. Never wanted anything so badly. And while his smart, powerful self knew he could bring it about, his cautious side told him there was always trouble lurking somewhere. He’d spent his entire life believing he was made for boardrooms, takeovers and decision-making. How could one woman make him think he’d changed?
They took Noah to the kitchen, and Hugo made a production out of Noah being the taste tester for the gingerbread that would create the enormous gingerbread house centerpiece for the goody table, but also the gingerbread men to be served with vanilla ice cream like sundaes. And, again, the whole experience was so natural, so easy that like a child longing for there to be a real Santa, Hugo could have believed.
But he recognized that was because he wanted to believe.
And that’s when a man got into trouble. Wanting something, anything, too much was dangerous.
After they returned the office and Erin’s mum had taken Noah home, Erin settled into the seat behind her desk. “So? Dinner tonight?”
She might have casually issued the invitation, but there was something in her voice. A hesitation. As if she was as unsure of their situation as he was.
But that was good. It meant she knew as well as he did that their relationship wasn’t a sure thing.
He pulled in a breath. “The chef’s trying recipes, so we could have anything we want from the menu.”
“That sounds perfect.”
He heard it again. This time he wouldn’t dub it hesitation. There was more of a professional tone to her voice. Like they were getting together to talk about something pertai
ning to the hotel, not to make love.
Hugo gave their dinner request to the chef, who, as always, was thrilled to have Hugo tasting the food before guests began arriving the day before Christmas Eve. But as he and Erin rode the elevator to the penthouse, where the chef would deliver their meals, he frowned at her briefcase and coat.
She’d never brought her coat and briefcase up to the room, a blatant reminder that she’d be leaving him alone in the big bed or to go home to his own cold, empty penthouse.
He reminded himself that shouldn’t bother him. Even if they really were beginning a relationship, they were in the early stages. Right now, what they were doing was supposed to be casual. Not important. Feeling as if he were bonding with Noah that afternoon, he’d made too much of it. It was time to get them back to the easy relationship they both wanted. If something developed after they returned to Manhattan, that would be great. If it didn’t, he would survive. But that was why he wanted this now. Something easy. Something fun.
He walked over, pulled her to him and kissed her. “The chef says we have forty minutes.”
She slid her hands to his shoulders. “Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah. Wanna make good use of it?”
She laughed, then kissed him. Long and sweet. The thing he always felt with her stirred in his soul. He took them deeper, delving into her mouth with his tongue, pulling her so close the clothes that separated them didn’t matter.
When he broke the kiss, he walked to the bar, retrieving a bottle of wine and two glasses, before he caught her hand and led her back to the bedroom.
They removed their clothes slowly, between kisses that felt different. He knew it was because of his thoughts that afternoon and decided to roll with it. Then he realized she was leading him, her feelings evident in every press of her lips, ever lick of her tongue. Before he could stop it, longing swelled inside him, a need so intense and pure it stole his breath. He couldn’t imagine living his life without this, without her.
Telling himself to stop thinking that way, he almost swiped control from her. A few shifts, a few touches would have done it. But he liked this feeling. Not a loss of control, but a chance to be himself, let her love him.
His heart stuttered. Let her love him?
The thought rippled through him, tiptoed into his brain. She clearly loved him. Nothing was ever as sweetly innocent as the touch of her tongue on his skin, the smooth movement of her palm as it roamed over his flesh, seeking sensitive spots, luring him into the spell she created.
Confused, he lay back, let her explore until the profound perfection of her touch build a fire inside him that would only be assuaged one way. He caught her shoulders and rolled her beneath him, entering her with a thrust that made her gasp.
She’d shown him her curious side. Now he would show her his demanding side. They rode a wave of intense arousal that shattered them. Then she fell asleep at his side and he took a long, slow breath, his heart so soft he knew she held it in the palm of her hand. His soul so open he could feel the fresh air of liberation filling it.
He closed his eyes.
He’d fallen in love and he didn’t merely want a life with her. He yearned for it. He wasn’t even sure how this had happened. He had a past that told him he wasn’t a relationship person. He liked work. He liked success. He liked control.
Nothing that he felt with her was stable or secure. It was fragile and scary and so insubstantial it was almost liquid.
But it was also bliss. Maybe worth more than a sister who didn’t like him and a brother who might never really trust him?
Or maybe he’d been right the day before when he realized being with her was so distracting that it might ruin the plan that had been the only thing to keep him sane since his mother asked him to leave?
CHAPTER TWELVE
DINNER—LOBSTER FRA DIAVOLO, flavored with clam juice on cognac—melted in Hugo’s mouth. Erin seemed to enjoy hers, but the odd behavior he’d noticed before they’d made love had returned.
She was nervous. Not out of sorts the way she had been the day he’d fed her lobster and filet mignon. But jumpy about something.
His thoughts after making love returned and he realized that whatever they were doing, having fun or falling in love, it snagged all his mental energy and could ruin his plan to get his family back together. Not because she was demanding, but because the feelings he’d had when she made love to him made everything else in the world seem irrelevant.
And his brother and sister could not be irrelevant. His past had to be cleared or he’d live with the shadow of secrets and lies his entire life.
When they finished dessert, she rose from the table that the wait staff had set up in the sitting room and walked to the chair where she’d left her briefcase.
Conflicting emotions skittered through him. If she left so quickly, so easily, it would confirm that what they were doing was only about sex. Irrelevant. And his focus could return to where it should be. On his plan to fix his family. Clear his name.
But what she had done in that bedroom hadn’t felt irrelevant.
He said nothing. Leaning back. Watching her. The feeling in the air confounded him. The mood had shifted from the intense warmth of what they’d just shared to something disjointed and jagged.
“I have something for you.”
He still said nothing. The tone of her voice said it wasn’t a gift.
“Something I found.”
“Found? Where?”
She faced him. “In a box.” She winced. “Actually, as I was moving junk out of that corner so I could set up my desk, it fell.” She pulled a manila envelope from her briefcase. “This spilled out.”
She held it out to him, and he took it, his heart thundering in his chest. Would she have made love to him so sweetly if she’d found the evidence Nick had trumped up to make it appear Hugo had been the one who’d embezzled?
She might. Especially if what he’d believed was profound emotion was her goodbye.
Their gazes held.
She whispered, “Open it.”
His emotions a knot of chaos, he poured out the contents of the envelope. Smaller red and green envelopes greeted him. “What’s this?”
She swallowed without answering, and curiosity compelled him to look down again at the envelopes—
Addressed to Sally and James.
His gaze leaped to the return address. His.
“What the hell?” He glanced up at her, then back at the cards. “I sent these to my brother and sister. And they’re—” he peered down again “—not even opened.”
“They were all together in the box. As if someone had intercepted them and stashed them away.”
“That jerk, Nick!”
She shook her head once, quickly. “Wouldn’t you assume Nick would have destroyed them?”
His face fell. “You think my mother...kept these from the twins?”
“I think she intercepted them in the mail. Whatever her reasons, she didn’t give them to your brother and sister. But I also believe she couldn’t throw away the only part of you she still had.”
He slammed the handful of cards to the table beside his empty plate. “She didn’t have any problem tossing the whole me away. Why keep these?”
She shrugged.
Hugo scrubbed his hand across his mouth, his head spinning, his heart so heavy it hurt to breathe.
* * *
Watching myriad emotions race across Hugo’s face, Erin held her breath, wanting to understand how he felt and to reconcile the man he was beginning to show her sparingly to the one he showed the world. The guy who’d barely paid a whit of attention to her in two and a half years and now suddenly couldn’t keep his hands off her. The guy who’d been sweet and kind to Noah that afternoon. The guy who’d laughed with her.
The guy she was trying not to love but couldn’t help he
rself. He held so many secrets and they hurt him, and she couldn’t love another man with secrets. She couldn’t let the chance to get answers to her questions pass.
“Hugo, what happened to make you leave? You say your mom tossed you out and she clearly kept these cards from your brother and sister. But she also couldn’t throw them away.” She spread her hands imploringly. “Every time you tell me about your Christmas Eves, I see the perfect family. What happened?”
He took a breath. “My dad died.”
“You didn’t leave when your dad died.” That much she’d gleaned from the newspaper in his desk drawer.
“No. My dad dying changed everything. He was the engine behind our great Christmas Eves.” He ran his hands down his face. “He was the engine behind everything. When he died, our mother couldn’t cope. She was a fantastic mum, but Dad was the one with the business sense. I was too young to realize it, but she was failing. When she started dating Nick—he’d been a frequent guest at the hotel—she saw salvation. She married him and essentially let him take over.”
“That’s...” She almost said sad, but remembering her state after Josh died, how hard it was sometimes to simply put one foot in front of the other to get herself to work, she changed her mind. “Actually, Hugo, as a widow myself, it makes sense to me.”
“Well, I was a teenage boy who saw it all differently. It felt like a betrayal.”
“You gave him a hard time?”
“I tried to get along until things got bad. I started hearing innuendos in everything he said. Thinly veiled threats to kick us all out. The reminder that we’d be homeless, living on the street without him. Especially after Mum gifted the hotel to him as a Christmas present.”
Erin gasped. “She gave him the hotel?”
“Yes. It was jaw-dropping. Odd. Everyone thought it was a gift of love, but I had this horrible sense there was more to it. By then I was seventeen, and decently smart because I’d worked at Harrington Park since I was young. My dad had even begun showing me the inner workings like employee schedules and bookkeeping. So I sneaked a peek at the books and realized Nick was cooking them. Money supposedly spent on renovations for Harrington Park was actually being siphoned off and going to his other businesses...most of which were failing. He did this for so long and so consistently that he’d bled Harrington Park dry.”
