Christmas Wishes

by Debbie Macomber

  Startled by his abrupt action, Susannah swayed slightly. Nate’s arms righted her. Apparently he’d come to his senses at the same time she had. For a brief moment they’d decided to ignore their differences. The only thing they had in common was the fact that they lived in the same building, she reminded herself. Their values and expectations were worlds apart.

  “Are you all right?” he asked, frowning.

  She blinked, trying to find a way to disguise that she wasn’t. Everything had happened much too fast; her heart was galloping like a runaway horse. She’d never been so attracted to a man in her life. “Of course I’m all right,” she said with strained bravado. “Are you?”

  He didn’t answer for a moment. Instead, he shoved his hands in his pants pocket and moved away from her, looking annoyed.

  “Nate?” she whispered.

  He paused, scowling in her direction. Rubbing his hand across his brow, he twisted the ever-present baseball cap until it faced backward. “I think we should try that again.”

  Susannah wasn’t sure what he meant until he reached for her. His first few kisses had been gentle, but this one was meant to take charge of her senses. His mouth slid over hers until she felt the starch go out of her knees. In an effort to maintain her balance, she gripped his shoulders, and although she fought it, she quickly surrendered to the swirling excitement. Nate’s kiss was debilitating. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t move.

  Nate groaned, then his hands shifted to the back of her head. He slanted his mouth over hers. At length he released a jagged breath and buried his face in the soft curve of her neck. “What about now?”

  “You’re a good kisser.”

  “That’s not what I meant, Susannah. You feel it, too, don’t you? You must! There’s enough electricity between us to light up a city block.”

  “No,” she lied, and swallowed tightly. “It was nice as far as kisses go—”

  “Nice!”

  “Very nice,” she amended, hoping to appease him, “but that’s about it.”

  Nate didn’t say anything for a long minute, a painfully long minute. Then, scowling at her again, he turned and walked out of the apartment.

  Trembling, Susannah watched him go. His kiss had touched a chord within her, notes that had been long-silent, and now she feared the music would forever mark her soul. But she couldn’t let him know that. They had nothing in common. They were too mismatched.

  Now that she was seated in the plush cocktail lounge with her associate, Andrew Adams, Susannah regretted having agreed to meet him after hours. It was apparent from the moment she stepped into the dimly lit room that he had more on his mind than business. Despite the fact that Adams was balding and overweight, he would have been attractive enough if he hadn’t seen himself as some kind of modern-day Adonis. Although Susannah struggled to maintain a businesslike calm, it was becoming increasingly difficult, and she wondered how much longer her good intentions would hold.

  “There are some figures I meant to show you,” Adams said, holding the stem of his martini glass with both hands and studying Susannah with undisguised admiration. “Unfortunately I left them at my apartment. Why don’t we conclude our talk there?”

  Susannah made a point of looking at her watch and frowning, hoping he’d get the hint. Something told her differently. “I’m afraid I won’t have the time,” she said. It was almost seven and she’d already spent an hour with him.

  “My place is only a few blocks from here,” he coaxed.

  His look was much too suggestive, and Susannah was growing wearier by the minute. As far as she could see, this entire evening had been a waste of time.

  The only thing that interested her was returning to her own place and talking to Nate. He’d been on her mind all day and she was eager to see him again. The truth was, she felt downright nervous after their last meeting, and wondered how they’d react to each other now. Nate had left her so abruptly, and she hadn’t talked to him since.

  “John Hammer and I are good friends,” Adams claimed, pulling his chair closer to her own. “I don’t know if you’re aware of that.”

  He didn’t even bother to veil his threat—or his bribe, whichever it was. Susannah worked directly under John Hammer, who would have the final say on the appointment of a new vice president. Susannah and two others were in the running for the position. And Susannah wanted it. Badly. She could achieve her five-year goal if she got it, and in the process make H&J Lima history—by being the first female vice president.

  “If you’re such good friends with Mr. Hammer,” she said, “then I suggest you give those figures to him directly, since he’ll need to review them anyway.”

  “No, that wouldn’t work,” he countered sharply. “If you come with me it’ll only take a few minutes. We’d be in and out of my place in, say, half an hour at the most.”

  Susannah’s immediate reaction to situations such as this was a healthy dose of outrage, but she managed to control her temper. “If your apartment is so convenient, then I’ll wait here while you go back for those sheets.” As she spoke, a couple walked past the tiny table where she was seated with Andrew Adams. Susannah didn’t pay much attention to the man, who wore a gray suit, but the blonde with him was striking. Susannah followed the woman with her eyes and envied the graceful way she moved.

  “It would be easier if you came with me, don’t you think?”

  “No,” she answered bluntly, and lowered her gaze to her glass of white wine. It was then that she felt an odd sensation prickle down her spine. Someone was staring at her; she could feel it as surely as if she were being physically touched. Looking around, Susannah was astonished to discover Nate sitting two tables away. The striking blonde was seated next to him and obviously enjoying his company. She laughed softly and the sound was like a melody, light and breezy.

  Susannah’s breath caught in her chest, trapped there until the pain reminded her it was time to breathe again. When she did, she reached for her wineglass and succeeded in spilling some of the contents.

  Nate’s gaze centered on her and then moved to her companion. His mouth thinned and his eyes, which had been so warm and tender a day earlier, now looked hard. Almost scornful.

  Susannah wasn’t exactly thrilled herself. Nate was dating a beauty queen while she was stuck with Donald Duck.

  Chapter

  4

  Susannah vented her anger by pacing the living room carpet. Men! Who needed them?

  Not her. Definitely not her! Nate Townsend could take his rainy day kisses and stuff them in his baseball cap for all she cared. Only he hadn’t been wearing it for Miss Universe. Oh no, with the other woman, he was dressed like someone out of Gentlemen’s Quarterly. Susannah, on the other hand, rated worn football jerseys or faded T-shirts.

  Susannah hadn’t been home more than five minutes when there was a knock at her door. She whirled around. Checking the peephole, she discovered that her caller was Nate. She pulled back, wondering what she should do. He was the last person she wanted to see. He’d made a fool of her…Well, that wasn’t strictly true. He’d only made her feel like a fool.

  “Susannah,” he said, knocking impatiently a second time. “I know you’re in there.”

  “Go away.”

  Her shout was followed by a short pause. “Fine. Have it your way.”

  Changing her mind, she turned the lock and yanked open the door. She glared at him with all the fury she could muster—which just then was considerable.

  Nate glared right back. “Who was that guy?” he asked with infuriating calm.

  She was tempted to inform Nate that it wasn’t any of his business. But she decided that would be churlish.

  “Andrew Adams,” she answered and quickly followed her response with a demand of her own. “Who was that woman?”

  “Sylvia Potter.”

  For the longest moment, neither spoke.

  “That was all I wanted to know,” Nate finally said.

  “Me, to
o,” she returned stiffly.

  Nate retreated two steps, and like precision clockwork Susannah shut the door. “Sylvia Potter,” she echoed in a low-pitched voice filled with disdain. “Well, Sylvia Potter, you’re welcome to him.”

  It took another fifteen minutes for the outrage to work its way through her system, but once she’d watched a portion of the evening news and read her mail, she was reasonably calm.

  When Susannah really thought about it, what did she have to be so furious about? Nate Townsend didn’t mean anything to her. How could he? Until a week ago, she hadn’t even known his name.

  Okay, so he’d kissed her a couple of times, and sure, there’d been electricity, but that was all. Electricity did not constitute a lifetime commitment. If Nate Townsend chose to date every voluptuous blonde between Seattle and New York it shouldn’t matter to her.

  But it did. And that infuriated Susannah more than anything. She didn’t want to care about Nate. Her career goals were set. She had drive, determination and a positive mental attitude. But she didn’t have Nate.

  Jutting out her lower lip, she expelled her breath forcefully, ruffling the dark wisps of hair against her forehead. Maybe it was her hair color—perhaps Nate preferred blondes. He obviously did, otherwise he wouldn’t be trying to impress Sylvia Potter.

  Refusing to entertain any more thoughts of her neighbor, Susannah decided to fix herself dinner. An inspection of the freezer revealed a pitifully old chicken patty. Removing it from the cardboard box, Susannah took one look at it and promptly tossed it into the garbage.

  Out of the corner of her eye she caught a movement on her balcony. She turned and saw a sleek Siamese cat walking casually along the railing as if he were strolling across a city park.

  Although she remained outwardly calm, Susannah’s heart lunged to her throat. Her condo was eight floors up. One wrong move and that cat would be history. Walking carefully to her sliding glass door, Susannah eased it open and called, “Here, kitty, kitty, kitty.”

  The cat accepted her invitation and jumped down from the railing. With his tail pointing skyward, he walked directly into her apartment and headed straight for the garbage pail, where he stopped.

  “I bet you’re hungry, aren’t you?” she asked softly. She retrieved the chicken patty and stuck it in her microwave. While she stood waiting for it to cook, the cat, with his striking blue eyes and dark brown markings, wove around her legs, purring madly.

  She’d just finished cutting the patty into bite-size pieces and putting it on a plate when someone pounded at her door. Wiping her fingers clean, she moved into the living room.

  “Do you have my cat?” Nate demanded when she opened the door. He’d changed from his suit into jeans and a bright blue T-shirt.

  “I don’t know,” she fibbed. “Describe it.”

  “Susannah, this isn’t the time for silly games. Chocolate Chip is a valuable animal.”

  “Chocolate Chip,” she repeated with a soft snicker, crossing her arms and leaning against the doorjamb. “Obviously you didn’t read the fine print in the tenant’s agreement, because it specifically states in section 12, paragraph 13, that no pets are allowed.” Actually she didn’t have a clue what section or what paragraph that clause was in, but she wanted him to think she did.

  “If you don’t tattle on me, then I won’t tattle on you.”

  “I don’t have any pets.”

  “No, you had a baby.”

  “But only for three days,” she said. Talk about nit-picking people! He was flagrantly disregarding the rules and had the nerve to throw a minor infraction in her face.

  “The cat belongs to my sister. He’ll be with me for less than a week. Now, is Chocolate Chip here, or do I go into cardiac arrest?”

  “He’s here.”

  Nate visibly relaxed. “Thank God. My sister dotes on that silly feline. She flew up from San Francisco and left him with me before she left for Hawaii.” As if he’d heard his name mentioned, Chocolate Chip casually strolled across the carpet and paused at Nate’s feet.

  Nate bent down to retrieve his sister’s cat, scolding him with a harsh look.

  “I suggest you keep your balcony door closed,” she told him, striving for a flippant air.

  “Thanks, I will.” Chocolate Chip was tucked under his arm as Nate’s gaze casually caught Susannah’s. “You might be interested to know that Sylvia Potter’s my sister.” He turned and walked out her door.

  “‘Sylvia Potter’s my sister,’” Susannah mimicked. It wasn’t until she’d closed and locked her door that she recognized the import of what he’d said. “His sister,” she repeated. “Did he really say that?”

  Susannah was at his door before she stopped to judge the wisdom of her actions. When Nate answered her furious knock, she stared up at him, her eyes confused. “What was that you just said?”

  “I said Sylvia Potter’s my sister.”

  “I was afraid of that.” Her thoughts were tumbling over one another like marbles in a bag. She’d imagined…she’d assumed….

  “Who’s Andrew Adams?”

  “My brother?” she offered, wondering if he’d believe her.

  Nate shook his head. “Try again.”

  “An associate from H&J Lima,” she said, then hurried to explain. “When I canceled my appointment with him Monday morning, he suggested we get together for a drink to discuss business this evening. It sounded innocent enough at the time, but I should’ve realized it was a mistake. Adams is a known sleazeball.”

  An appealing smile touched the edges of Nate’s mouth. “I wish I’d had a camera when you first saw me in that cocktail lounge. I thought your eyes were going to fall out of your face.”

  “It was your sister—she intimidated me,” Susannah admitted. “She’s lovely.”

  “So are you.”

  The man had obviously been standing out in the sun too long, Susannah decided. Compared to Sylvia, who was tall, blond and had curves in all the right places, Susannah felt about as pretty as a professional wrestler.

  “I’m flattered that you think so.” Susannah wasn’t comfortable with praise. She was much too levelheaded to let flattery affect her. When men paid her compliments, she smiled and thanked them, but she treated their words like water running off a slick surface.

  Except with Nate. Everything was different with him. She seemed to be accumulating a large stack of exceptions because of Nate. As far as Susannah could see, he had no ambition, and if she’d met him anyplace other than her building, she probably wouldn’t have given him a second thought. Instead she couldn’t stop thinking about him. She knew better than to allow her heart to be distracted this way, and yet she couldn’t seem to stop herself.

  “Do you want to come in?” Nate asked and stepped aside. A bleeping sound drew Susannah’s attention to a five-foot-high television screen across the room. She’d apparently interrupted Nate in the middle of an action-packed video game. A video game!

  “No,” she answered quickly. “I wouldn’t want to interrupt you. Besides I was…just about to make myself some dinner.”

  “You cook?”

  His astonishment—no, shock—was unflattering, to say the least.

  “Of course I do.”

  “I’m glad to hear it, because I seem to recall that you owe me a meal.”

  “I—”

  “And since we seem to have gotten off on the wrong foot tonight, a nice quiet dinner in front of the fireplace sounds like exactly what we need.”

  Susannah’s thoughts were zooming at the speed of light. Nate was inviting himself to dinner—one she was supposed to whip up herself! Why did she so glibly announce that she could cook? Everything she’d ever attempted in the kitchen had been a disaster. Other than toast. Toast was her specialty. Her mind whirled with all the different ways she could serve it. Buttered? With honey? Jam? Cheese? The list was endless.

  “You fix dinner and I’ll bring over the wine,” Nate said in a low seductive voice. “It’s time we sa
t down together and talked. Deal?”

  “I, ah, I’ve got some papers I have to read over tonight.”

  “No problem. I’ll make it a point to leave early so you can finish whatever you need to.”

  His eyes held hers for a long moment, and despite everything Susannah knew about Nate, she still wanted time alone with him. She had some papers to review and he had to get back to his video game. A relationship like theirs was not meant to be. However, before she was even aware of what she was doing, Susannah nodded.

  “Good. I’ll give you an hour. Is that enough time?”

  Once more, like a remote-controlled robot, she nodded.

  Nate smiled and leaned forward to lightly brush his lips over hers. “I’ll see you in an hour then.”

  He put his hand at her lower back and guided her out the door. For a few seconds she did nothing more than stand in the hallway, wondering how she was going to get herself out of this one. She reviewed her options and discovered there was only one.

  The Western Avenue Deli.

  Precisely an hour later, Susannah was ready. A tossed green salad rested in the middle of the table in a crystal bowl, which had been a gift when she graduated from college. Her aunt Gerty had given it to her. Susannah loved her aunt dearly, but the poor soul had her and Emily confused. Emily would have treasured the fancy bowl. As it happened, this was the first occasion Susannah had even used it and now that she looked at it, she thought the bowl might have been meant for punch. Maybe Nate wouldn’t notice. The stroganoff was simmering in a pan and the noodles were in a foil-covered dish, keeping warm in the oven.

  Susannah drew in a deep breath, then frantically waved her hands over the simmering food to disperse the scent around the condo before she opened her door.

  “Hi,” Nate said. He held a bottle of wine.

  His eyes were so blue, it was like looking into a clear, deep lake. When she spoke, her voice trembled slightly. “Hi. Dinner’s just about ready.”

  He sniffed the air appreciatively. “Will red wine do?”

  “It’s perfect,” she told him, stepping aside so he could come in.