year?' he murmured, his deep, rich voice sending a shiver rippling down her spine.
She could feel a blush tingling along her skin, as well as the curious stares of his mother and sisters. Luckily, the kids were being so loud that it was impossible to hear her and Ryan's conversation.
'I've been so good that I'm probably one of the top ten names on your list.' She grinned, and decided to turn the tables on him. 'And what about yourself, Santa?'
He looked surprised at her direct challenge, then his eyes sparkled with a wicked, unrepentant light, and she knew trouble was heading her way. 'Oh, definitely naughty. I'm expecting a lump of coal in my stocking this year, but all the fun I've had has been worth it.'
She laughed, not wanting to think about the kind of 'fun' Ryan might have indulged in. She was certainly well aware of how naughty he'd been with her. Feeling a little mischievous herself, she leaned close and whispered in his ear, 'Naughty and nice can make for a very interesting combination.'
He released a very hearty 'ho, ho, ho,' then added more privately, 'I'll certainly keep that in mind when I bring you
'Twasthe night before Christmas, and all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse… just Ryan.
It was aquarter until midnight, the house was dark and silent, and Ryan stealthily crept upstairs, avoiding the wooden planks he'd discovered as a teenager that creaked. He snuck past his parents' closed door, and continued down the hall past his sisters' rooms, where they slept with their husbands and kids, to his old bedroom where Jessica was sleeping for the night while he took the couch downstairs. Slipping quietly into the shadowed room, he moved toward the bed.
'Ryan?' came Jessica's husky whisper.
'Yeah, it's me,' he confirmed, sitting on the edge of the mattress.
'What are you doing in here?' She propped herself up on her elbow, and the moonlight filtering through the window made her tousled, honey-blond hair shimmer around her shoulders. 'It's nearlymidnight, and your parents are right down the hall-'
He pressed his fingers to her lips, stopping her chastisement. 'Yeah, and you're gonna wake everyone up if you don't be quiet.'
Her eyes widened slightly, and she pulled his hand away. 'Ryan, I was just teasing about that naughty and nice thing. I mean, we can't do anything
She sounded so prim and proper, he couldn't help but grin. 'Oh, I plan to take you up on your naughty and nice comment, but that's not why I'm here,' he said, keeping his voice low. 'I want you to come with me.' He stood, and waited for her to do the same.
She frowned up at him. 'Why?'
He propped his hands on his hips and exhaled a breath, summoning patience. Would she always question his motives? Would she ever believe and accept that his interest in her went beyond his original plan of seducing her?
'Because I asked,' he said, deliberately vague. A simple issue of trust was at stake, and he wanted her to acknowledge that she trusted him, even on this small, insignificant issue.
After a brief hesitation, she tossed back the covers and slipped off the bed, garbed from neck to toes in a long-sleeved nightshirt, bottoms, and socks.
'Nice pajamas,' he teased.
She scrunched her nose at him as her gaze took in his cotton shorts and T-shirt. 'If you haven't noticed, it's winter, and flannel is warm.'
'As an alternative, I suppose it suffices,' he murmured. 'But body heat can be just as effective.'
She rolled her eyes at his innuendo, but accepted the hand he held out to her. Then, like two little kids wanting to catch Santa in action, they snuck back downstairs to the dark family room. Ryan hit a switch on the wall, and the lights on the Christmas tree came on, their twinkling colors providing a dazzling, magical atmosphere.
'What are you going to do?' Jessica asked in a hushed voice filled with amusement. 'Find out which ones are your gifts and shake them?'
He chuckled. 'No, you and I are going to put Santa's gifts under the tree, which has somehow become my job over the years. And then we have cookies to eat and milk to drink so the little imps upstairs will know that Santa was really here.'
She glanced at the coffee table, where the kids had left a plate piled high with the sugar cookies they'd made that evening, and a glass of milk that had no doubt turned warm. A brief glimpse of melancholy flickered over her expression, but by the time she met his gaze again whatever emotional memory she'd been caught up in was gone.
She smiled at him. 'Well, let's get started,' she said, enthusiasm infusing her voice.
She followed him to the coat closet that doubled as a storage area under the stairs, and they spent the next half hour hauling presents out and placing them under the tree until the corner of the room was overflowing with gaily wrapped gifts. His sisters had left small bags of items to stuff in the kids' stockings, and by the time he and Jessica were done, it appeared that Santa had, indeed, paid a visit to the Matthews home.
'And now for the cookies,' Jessica reminded him, caught up in the spirit of things, just as he'd intended.
After the snippets she'd revealed about her childhood, he'd suspected that it had been a long time since she'd enjoyed such frivolous fun, and it made his heart swell that he was able to share this with her. 'Let me go get a fresh glass of milk.'
He returned a minute later and sat beside her on the couch. The blinking lights from the tree cast pretty highlights in her hair, and made her eyes shimmer with the delight still lingering from their escapade of playing Santa's helpers.
He picked up a cookie sprinkled with red and green sugar, and popped the entire thing into his mouth and chewed. 'I think this is the best part of Christmas.'
She slanted him a curious look as she selected her own baked confection, then nibbled on it. 'What? Eating the cookies?'
He shook his head, and washed down his bite with a drink of milk. 'Knowing that the kids are going to come downstairs in the morning and see the gifts under the tree and the plate with crumbs on it, and truly believe that Santa was here.' He filched another cookie, and thought about himself as a young boy on Christmas, so filled with energy and excitement, until he'd discovered the truth about St. Nick. 'I remember I was so crushed when I learned there was no Santa Claus.'
'How did you find out?' She shared his glass of milk, then licked the remaining droplets off her lips.
Ignoring the automatic desire that flared to life within him at Jessica's innocent gesture, he reminded himself that this weekend wasn't about the seduction they'd yet to consummate. Averting his attention, he took one of the remaining cookies between his fingers and crushed it to leave visible crumbs on the plate. 'Well, I thought I'd be creative and test the Santa theory, and instead of leaving cookies for him, I insisted on making him a peanut butter and sardine sandwich.'
'Oh, yuck.' She blanched, her expression reflecting her disgust at the combination. 'Were you trying to assure that Santa never paid another visit to your house?'
He chuckled. 'Well, I remember thinking if the sandwich was gone, then there really was a Santa because he'd be so hungry from his trip around the world that he'd eat it, or feed it to Rudolph. But if it was still there in the morning, then there wasn't really a Santa, because no normal person would eat something so awful.'
'Interesting theory,' she said, her tone wry. 'And what happened?'
'In the morning, it was gone.' He licked the remnants of sugar from his fingers.
'Your parents ate it?' she asked incredulously.
'Not exactly.' Grinning, he reclined against the sofa cushions and stacked his hands behind his head. 'I found it in the trash. I was eight, and I think I was ready to discover the truth, but I was still crushed.'
She nodded in understanding, and there was that melancholy again.
'What about you?' he asked, tugging on her pajama sleeve before she could emotionally retreat from him.
