Holiday in the Heart

by Anthology

  Greg laughed and swung his daughter up into his arms. “Patriotic, sweetheart. We’re patriotic.”

  “We should have got a white one, too, Daddy. That could be Sam’s.”

  Sam laughed in embarrassment. “It’s sweet of you to think of me, but I have my own tree.” She pointed toward the elegant tree. “But I have to admit I love those lights that bubble. I haven’t seen any like that before.”

  As soon as Greg set her down, Missy pulled on Sam’s hand again. “Sit on the floor with me, Sam. You can play with my Tinker Toys.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to help with anything?” Sam called while Greg prepared dinner. She sat cross-legged on the floor helping Missy build a bridge with her Tinker Toys.

  “I’m fine. I’m used to cooking. It’s just me and Missy, so unless my mother feels sorry for us and brings food over, I cook every night.”

  This was a side of Greg Giovanni she imagined few people saw. She doubted most even knew he had a daughter.

  Now that she’d seen a chink in his armor, she could see she’d been wrong in her first impressions of him. He might be someone she wouldn’t mind getting to know better after all.

  But did she dare? He was her boss—even if the job was just temporary. Somehow she couldn’t imagine the manager of Nickel’s Department Store wanting to date one of its elves!

  “It’s done!” Missy shouted as she put the last piece of the Tinker Toy into place, stood and walked back to her bedroom. Sam watched her. She took five steps, then dragged her leg. She’d dragged it when leaving the store after seeing Santa Claus, too. Sam wondered what was wrong.

  Waiting for the child to come back, Sam headed into the kitchen. “Smells good in here.”

  “Spaghetti. Hope that’s okay. Used up the last of our ration coupons for this month the last time I went to the store. Normally my housekeeper shops for me, but I knew exactly what I wanted, so I told her I’d stop at the market on the way home the other day. I had to get Italian sausage, beef, and pork for the sauce.”

  “I love spaghetti, but that doesn’t smell like anything you’d buy from a general store.”

  Greg laughed. “It’s not. My mother made her spaghetti sauce every weekend when I was a boy. Pretty much carried over the tradition myself. When I have time to make it, I simmer the sauce all day—usually on Saturdays. When holidays roll around, I sometimes have to be at the store, so I don’t get to do it then. But my mother always makes sure we have enough in the ice box to whip out for emergencies like this.”

  “You cook your sauce all day?” Disbelief showed on her face.

  “Certainly. Just like my grandmother taught my mom. She learned it from her family in the old country. Call it a family tradition.”

  “What’s wrong with Missy’s leg?”

  The surprised look on Greg’s face told her the change of subject caught him off guard.

  “She broke it when she was two. Fell down the staircase at my parents’ house. She’d climbed the steps when we weren’t looking and it never healed right.”

  “Maybe they could operate and correct the problem.” She sighed. “What am I thinking? Hospitals are too expensive for most people to go to. I understand if that’s why you haven’t taken her, but it’s a shame—”

  Greg’s eyes clouded. “She’s been through too much pain in her short life. I’ll not put her through surgery with no promise it won’t be a success.”

  “You can’t carry her forever, Greg. What about when she begins school? Won’t she start next year? Children can often be cruel. They might tease her. By not letting her try to do different things to see what she actually can and cannot do, you’re holding her back from a full life.”

  His eyes darkened and a nerve ticked in his neck.

  “I don’t want to talk about this, Samantha. Missy and I are doing just fine without you intruding.”

  He might as well have slapped her!

  Shoulders straightened and chin raised, Sam glared at him. “I’m sorry to be an intrusion, Mr. Giovanni. Please make my excuses to Missy. I’m leaving.”

  She grabbed her purse and headed toward the kitchen door.

  An arm reached around her and slammed it shut as soon as she opened it.

  “Sam, I’m sorry.” He placed his hands on her shoulders and turned her to face him. “Merciful Mary, I didn’t mean that.”

  His eyes beseeched her. He looked miserable.

  But she didn’t stay where she wasn’t wanted.

  “I’m sorry, too, Mr. Giovanni, but this isn’t going to work. I don’t belong here. I shouldn’t have said yes. Just tell Missy something came up and I had to leave.”

  She wanted to take away the pain she saw in his eyes. Wanted to stay. Wanted to go.

  She closed her eyes. I have no idea what I want.

  Greg felt like a heel. He’d been uncomfortable with her mentioning hospital costs and had taken his discomfort out on her. He could afford any treatment the doctors prescribed. Could buy the entire hospital if he wanted to.

  But he didn’t want to talk money with her. Didn’t want her with him because his family was rich. Just once he wanted someone to want him...just for him.

  Of course Samantha would ask about his daughter. She cared about people. It was one of the things that drew him to her.

  He raised the palm of his hand to her cheek. Caressed it lightly. “Please, Sam. Stay.”

  Her eyes rose and met his, but she didn’t move.

  “Let me start over again.”

  When her hand reached up to cover his, something inside him snapped.

  He wanted this moment. If he had nothing else ever again, he wanted this one moment in time with her.

  Drawing her to him, he rubbed a hand along her spine as he looked down into those compelling eyes. He didn’t have to drink any brandy to be drunk. Just looking into her eyes did that.

  He cursed himself for being a thousand times a fool, but he was going to kiss her—and damn the consequences.

  His hand moved to the back of her head, fingers lightly stroked the nape of her neck. When she moved to pull away, he anchored his fingers in her hair and lowered his mouth to hers.

  He pulled her closer. Molded her body to his.

  His tongue lightly traced her lips, urging them to open. They didn’t. She wasn’t going to make this easy on him.

  He kissed her lips, her cheeks, her eyes. Moved his head and lightly swirled his tongue around the edge of her ear. Then returned to start over. When his hand cupped her bottom and urged her closer, he wasn’t sure if the sigh was his or hers.

  Not certain how they got there, he soon had her pressed against the icebox. He pinned her there, his body unyielding, his hands on either side of her.

  “Kiss me, Sam.” His eyes held hers.

  When he lowered his mouth to hers again, her lips opened. He deepened the kiss, lost himself in the wonder of her.

  ~*~

  “Daddy, where’s Sam?”

  Greg jumped back at the sound of his daughter’s voice. Kept one arm on the icebox for balance. What had this woman done to him? Feelings he’d thought long dead coursed through him.

  Breathing deeply, he faced Missy. She cradled her favorite doll to her chest.

  “Oh, there you are, Sam. I didn’t see you. Daddy was in the way.”

  Sam edged away from Greg.

  “Your daddy was just...just...”

  “Telling Sam about how Grandma makes spaghetti sauce every weekend.” What a ridiculous statement!

  “Yes, that’s it. Doesn’t it smell good in here?”

  Sam pulled out a kitchen chair and sat in it. She looked shaken enough that she might actually have fallen if she hadn’t done so. As her eyes met his over Missy’s head, they revealed she’d wanted him as much as he’d wanted her. Still wanted her.

  Thank God Missy had interrupted. Who knew what stupid thing he might have done if he’d kept kissing Sam? Why did she so affect him? He saw beautiful women every day. Women on
the fast track to careers, fashion models in his high end stores throughout the United States. Not one of them had ever earned a second glance. Until Sam.

  The woman who wore a green elf costume in one of his stores.

  ~*~

  As soon as dinner ended, Sam told Missy, “I have to leave, sweetheart. Thank you for inviting me for dinner. Your daddy’s a really good cook.”

  “Grandma taught him.” Missy smiled as she hugged Sam goodbye.

  Sam knelt and pulled the little girl to her. “She did a good job. The spaghetti was delicious and I haven’t had chocolate cake for months. Not since they started rationing sugar.”

  “Yeah, Daddy does pasghetti really good.” She turned to smile up at her father. “He does lasagna good, too. Want to have that tomorrow?”

  Sam couldn’t hide her shock. “I can’t come back tomorrow, Missy.”

  “Why?”

  “Well, because...”

  “’Cause why?”

  Sam turned to Greg to elicit his help.

  He surprised her when he smiled—a cat who’d just cornered a mouse smile. “I do make good lasagna. Why don’t you come over after church? We’ll eat around two.”

  “Mr. Giovanni!” She shot him a glare, but he didn’t rise to the bait. “I can’t come here again and you know it.”

  He stood silent and thought a minute. “Well, all right. It will mean more work, but if you can’t come here I guess Missy and I can bring the meal to your house around two. Might be two-thirty with travel time.”

  “Mr. Giovanni!”

  “You said that already.”

  “And you aren’t listening.”

  “Nope, I’m not. And I have no intention of doing so.”

  “Why not?”

  “Missy wants to have lunch with you tomorrow.”

  “That’s not reason enough and you know it.”

  “And so do I.”

  “You what?”

  “Want to have lunch with you. So the only question is—your place or mine?” He wiggled his eyebrows like a lecherous old man.

  How could he do this to her? He couldn’t have forgotten that kiss so quickly. She couldn’t see him again. If she did, she just might... What?

  The answer was only too clear.

  She just might fall in love with him.

  ~*~

  “Oooooo, you have a kitty,” Missy squealed when they walked into Sam’s kitchen and a huge bundle of fur skittered away. “I want a kitty, but Daddy won’t get me one.” She made a face at her father. “Says I’m not old enough.”

  She got down on her knees. “C’mere, kitty, kitty.”

  “Her name is Tigger.”

  Missy smiled. “Like in Winnie the Pooh?”

  “Yep, just like that.”

  “But Tigger’s a boy.”

  “Not this Tigger. She’s a girl. A very spoiled girl. When I try to work on my typewriter at night, she either drapes herself across my legs or insinuates herself over the keys.”

  “Oh. C’mere, Tigger.” Missy turned to her father. “Daddy, what’s sin-u-ate?”

  Greg laughed. “It means the cat plops down on Sam’s typewriter like you plop on my lap when I sit in my chair.”

  “Oh, okay.”

  Greg looked around the kitchen. “Your friend has a nice setup here. I see you’re all set for us.”

  “You said you’d be here at two. I didn’t want the lasagna to get cold.” She turned away from him so she didn’t have to see the taunting in his eyes.

  She was a coward. She knew it. He knew it.

  ~*~

  After lunch, Sam ordered Greg and Missy into the living room. “You cooked. The least I can do is clean up.”

  From the living room, Missy shouted, “Daddy, Daddy, look. A reindeer!”

  Greg walked into the living room to see his daughter on her knees in front of the Christmas tree, a book in her hands.

  His gaze shifted back to Sam. “How’d you get one of the books Montgomery Ward is giving away?”

  “My cousin, Allison, lives in Chicago. Apparently she’s been seeing some man whose family owns the general store. Allison said he’s trying to make Christmas special for her daughter, Rebecca, so he took her to see Santa several times. That’s how they got an extra copy. She mailed this one to me thinking I’d like it. How did you know where it came from?”

  “I have to keep up with what all the stores are doing so I can stay competitive. Wards’ handed those out five years now—although I’ve heard it was harder this year since there’s such a paper shortage.”

  A smile lit Samantha’s face as she watched Missy’s obvious excitement. “I’m glad she sent it. Why don’t you read it to her while I go clean the kitchen?”

  ~*~

  Greg finally settled Missy with the book after reading it to her three times. Stretching, he strode to the Victrola to see what record was on it. The Christmas Song by Mel Torme. I should have known she’d be playing Christmas music. He wandered back into the kitchen. Sam was at the sink washing dishes. Walking up behind her, he pressed his body to hers, moved her hair aside and kissed her neck.

  “Thanks for letting us use your kitchen, Miss Noelle. That was a wonderful meal.”

  “Searching for compliments, Mr. Giovanni?”

  He turned her to face him. Wrapped her soapy hands around his neck. “No, actually, I’m searching for a kiss.”

  Her eyes closed. “Mr. Giovanni, please. We can’t...we—”

  His mouth closed over hers, silencing her words. He pressed closer, allowing her to feel his desire.

  Breathing heavily, he backed away. “Are you going to tell me you don’t feel the same thing I do? You’re lying if you do.”

  Her eyes pleaded with him. “You know I do. But our lives are different. You’re the manager of a fancy store. I’m the elf. Come Christmas, I won’t be there anymore. You’ll never see me again. You live in a beautiful house. I can’t even afford the deposit on an apartment.”

  “Oh, I’ll definitely see you after the holidays.” He arched a brow, daring her to contradict him. “Let me help you with that deposit.”

  “I don’t take handouts. I earn what I need. I don’t have enough yet, but I’ll get it. And I can’t spend all my time with you. The elderly people I work with need me.”

  “I need you.”

  “Mr. Giovanni, please don’t.”

  He backed away. “If you call me Mr. Giovanni one more time...I’ll...” He ran a hand through his hair. “I kissed you, Sam. You kissed me back. You can call me Greg now.” He sighed in frustration. “Okay, you need more time. I’ll give you that time. Maybe.”

  Drawing her close again, he placed a chaste kiss on her lips, then whispered in her ear, “I want to take you out—just the two of us. We’ll go out next Saturday. That gives you a week to come to terms with...us.” Without waiting for her answer, he walked into her living room.

  ~*~

  After drying her hands and placing the towel on the counter, Sam left the kitchen. Her heart slammed against her ribs at the sight that greeted her. Greg lay back in the recliner, his small daughter curled on his chest. With his arms loosely around her, both were sound asleep.

  Sam knew her heart was at risk. This man and his tiny daughter were sin-u-ating their way into her life. I’m even thinking like Missy now!

  Was she ready for this? Her life had been perfectly fine the way it was. She didn’t need the complications of a high-profile man and his daughter.

  Didn’t need anyone else in her life right now. She had the senior citizens she helped. They needed her.

  But who did she really have for herself? She had...no one!

  Did she want anyone? Or was she happy as is? She’d thought so. She hadn’t dated since her break up with Joseph several months back. He’d wanted different things than she did. Was focused on climbing his way to the top of his career. He wanted her at his side—to look nice. Be an asset in his business. Her life was more important than being an ornament
on someone’s arm. Her life was busy—full. Other than needing a place to live, her life was perfect—until now.

  So why did she suddenly feel that if she let these people walk out of her life she would be making the biggest mistake of her life?

  ~*~

  At six o’clock sharp Saturday night, Greg rang the doorbell to Samantha’s house. He’d arranged for Missy to spend the weekend with his mother. Wanted to be alone with Sam. Had decided to tell her about his family.

  He sucked in a breath when she opened the door. She was beautiful.

  Long, brown hair had been swept up, with tendrils loosely framing the edge of her face. Her low cut, floor length black shift hugged her figure to perfection. When she moved aside to permit his entry, he saw the thigh-high slit along the side.

  Mercy! He felt himself harden at the sight of her. Did they really have to go eat dinner? He wouldn’t mind missing their reservation. What he really wanted to do was take that dress off her luscious body and explore every inch of her. Visions of her sprawled on the bed naked wrapped themselves around his mind. He might not even make it upstairs to the bedroom. From the impact to his already throbbing shaft, he’d be lucky if they made it as far as the stairs. Heat from the fireplace radiated through the room. Yes, making love in front of the fireplace would be quite nice. Not that he needed the heat. His blood was already aflame.

  She smiled and he lost all sense of intelligence. Couldn’t think of a thing to say.

  “Greg? Is everything all right?”

  Oh yeah, more than all right! “You look beautiful.”

  She blushed. “Thank you. I don’t have many formal clothes, so I hoped this would be appropriate for wherever you planned to go. You said to dress up.”