A Christmas Seduction

by Daire St. Denis

  A slow smile inched across his face as he flipped through the pages, skimming.

  Stories. The woman was a storyteller. He flipped to the middle of the journal and then stopped when he saw his own name.

  “Oh, Jolie, what did you write about me?”

  “What did you say your name was?”

  “Thaddeus Knight. At your service.”

  “You said you’re a hand. What does that mean, exactly?”

  “I could tell you, but showing you would be way more fun.” His gaze swept over her body, his eyes dark with desire.

  “Then you’d better show me.”

  “It’d be my pleasure.”

  She’d written the hot tub scene from the first night, only she’d embellished it.

  “You’re so beautiful. I wanted you from the moment I saw you.”

  “Kiss me.”

  He smiled before swooping in. His lips were hot and cold all at the same time, a wonderful combination as he nipped at her mouth before plunging his tongue inside. Under the water, he caressed her breasts, her stomach, his hand sliding down to between her legs.

  “May I touch you here?” he asked against her lips.

  A Southern gentleman.

  Thad snorted and read on, the next three pages describing a very different outcome to her first night on the ranch. Thad could tell where she’d picked the story up the next day because there was a break on the page and it was a completely new scenario. They were still on the ranch but hadn’t had sex. It was Tip’s Eve and she was returning to her room...

  The shadow of a man—a large man—stood by the sliding glass doors.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “What do you think?”

  She wanted this, but she still felt a tinge of fear at his shadowy presence.

  “If you don’t want this, tell me now, and I’ll go. But if I go, you can’t look at me like you did earlier tonight.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He crossed the room to stand right in front of her, gazing down at her. “No more licking your lips.”

  She licked her lips out of nervousness.

  “No more dirty thoughts when you look at me.”

  She blinked.

  “No more smiles, all innocent and seductive at the same time...”

  Damn, the woman could write. It wasn’t just a fantasy, it was a full-blown erotic story with him as the hero, and it was as arousing as if it was all happening in person. Thad adjusted the fierce erection throbbing behind his fly as he shifted on the bed to check the time. Would they be done the hot tub yet? Would she be showered and waiting in bed for him?

  No. He should probably give her another half hour at least. So he went back to the journal, his blood pounding hotly through his veins and his cock stiffening painfully as he read her sexual fantasies, each one getting a little hotter, a little more bold. Handcuffs, rope, her teasing him, him teasing her.

  He didn’t even notice when he’d started rubbing himself through his jeans, and he popped the button about to unzip his fly when he turned the page and stopped.

  Cold.

  He stared wide-eyed at where his name—Thaddeus Knight—was traced in bold, circled over and over again, question marks bracketing it. To the right was a name, an email and a web address and beside that a chilling description.

  FBI organized crime division.

  Cautiously, he flipped the page. There was more but he only read the first few pages. This story was about a dangerous fugitive kidnapping a woman, holding her hostage and threatening to kill her.

  Fuck.

  * * *

  JOLIE STOOD IN the mirror of the en suite bathroom, staring at her reflection. What did Thad see in her? Her face was sort of ordinary, her eyes a nondescript brown, her mouth too big. She frowned.

  What did anyone see in another person? What made chemistry happen between two strangers? Take Kaylee and Evan. They met much like she and Thad had and now, two years later, they were married.

  The weird thing about this trip was, even though Jolie had forced herself to do a bunch of stuff she’d never done before, and be a person she’d never been before, she actually felt more like herself than ever before. Life was weird.

  Her phone rang from the other room and she wrapped a towel around her torso to retrieve it.

  “Hey, Mom.”

  “Jo, I was hoping to hear from you. How are things going with the story?”

  Was it her mother’s question that irked her or the fact that the lie she’d told was still hanging over her? “You know, instead of asking about the story, you could ask about me.”

  “What?” As usual, her mother didn’t sound hurt, she sounded confused.

  “Mom, you haven’t even wished me Merry Christmas.”

  “You know I don’t use the word Christmas.”

  “But I do.” Jolie sat up straight on the edge of the bed. “I like Christmas. In fact, I’ve just had the best Christmas ever.” She tugged on a thread on the comforter. “That’s my story.”

  There was silence on the other end of the line. Jolie waited it out.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I don’t have some big story, Mom. I’m in Montana at a guest ranch, writing an article for Travel America on the best place to spend Christmas if you can’t spend it at home.”

  “Why did you lie?”

  “I don’t know.” Jolie pressed a hand to her forehead. “Maybe I was trying to impress you, which is stupid because I’ve never been able to impress you, so I don’t know why I keep trying.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Jo sighed, hanging her head. “Only the fact that I’m the family failure, Mom.”

  “Excuse me?”

  Really? Did she have to spell it out? Rubbing her brow, she said, “Everything you do is productive and important. Same with Dad and Jake. But me?”

  “What about you?”

  “My life has no meaning. I don’t do anything important.”

  “Have I made you feel that, Jolie?”

  “Yes. No. I don’t know.”

  Her mother was silent, which was her typical response when she was preparing for an analysis. But that was not what Jolie got. Through the line came a sniffle and when her mother next spoke, her voice cracked with emotion. “I am so sorry if I’ve made you feel that way. But you need to know that you are not, and never have been, a failure to me or your father. Quite the opposite.”

  “But...”

  “You’re more of a mystery to us. A wonderful, delightful mystery. That means I might not understand where you’re coming from sometimes—like this whole Christmas thing—but you’ve always been your own person. Strong. Creative.” Her mother paused to blow her nose. “I am so proud of the woman you’ve become.”

  After the call, Jolie put on her nightshirt and climbed into bed. She lay in the semidarkness, blinking up at the wooden beams above her head. Could it be that she’d been wrong about her family’s expectations of her after all these years? Did they truly admire her creativity, like her mother said? What if the only thing that had been holding her back from the life she wanted...was herself?

  * * *

  JOLIE ROLLED OVER in bed and groaned. Was it morning? How could it be morning when no one had come to her room last night? No one had slipped into bed and woken her up with kisses and caresses.

  Still drowsy, she slipped her hands beneath her nightshirt and touch
ed her body, imagining it was Thad, but she didn’t get far before lucidity—or was it the smell of bacon and eggs from the dining room?—got her upright and out of bed. Well, she may not have had sex last night, but she’d sure slept well. Maybe it was the talk with her mother; maybe it was getting more than four hours of sleep, like she’d been existing on for the last few nights. Whatever the reason, Jolie felt like a new woman and she showered and dressed with a smile that was in direct contrast to her disappointment over Thad not showing up.

  He probably fell asleep. If she was tired, he must be exhausted because he was the one up while it was still pitch-black, doing chores in the cold, taking care of the guests...and her.

  She needed to do something to thank him and Jolie knew just what it was she wanted to do. By the time she got to the dining room, Simon and Zak had just finished and there was no sign of the other guests. Gloria was sitting at the table eating and flipping through a Travel America magazine. When she saw Jo, she quickly closed it but then smiled sheepishly, knowing she’d been caught.

  Jo took the seat beside her and pointed to the magazine. “You should look up some of the places that are featured here and see how they’re doing. You can gauge their popularity by the number of reviews on TripAdvisor and other sites.”

  With a sly grin, Gloria said, “I’ve already done it.”

  “And?”

  “And having an article in this magazine is going to make a big difference to the ranch.”

  Jo covered Gloria’s hand. “I have to tell you, I have had the absolute best time. Ever. This has been an amazing trip and you should be very proud of yourself.”

  Gloria crinkled her nose in delight. “That means so much.” Her face grew serious. “And I’m sorry about how I was earlier. You know...about Thad.” She sighed. “The truth is, he’s good guy and I don’t know what we’d do without him.”

  “Speaking of Thad...” Jo glanced over her shoulder to see if there was anyone in the vicinity before leaning closer and saying quietly, “Can you tell me if there’s a place nearby where I can get lingerie?”

  * * *

  AFTER A SUCCESSFUL TRIP to Half Moon Creek, Jolie parked the car in the lot. She snagged the bag from Wanda’s Women’s Wear, a cute little shop in town that had everything from casual to formal clothes, Western wear, shoes, boots, accessories and lingerie. She glanced toward the barn and bunkhouse but didn’t see any sign of Thad.

  Her stomach growled. It was late afternoon and she’d considered stopping to grab a bite in town, but it had looked like snow and now she was glad she hadn’t as snow swirled around her. She could hear the dogs barking out by the pond and the delighted shouts of a child. Zak was probably still out on the ice playing hockey with the crazy dogs.

  Smiling to herself, Jo dropped the purchase off in her room before making her way down to the kitchen to grab something to eat. However, hushed voices from behind the closed door of the kitchen made her pause.

  “What do you mean he’s gone?” Dillon asked.

  “I mean, he’s not here.” Though he rarely spoke, Curtis had an incredibly deep and distinctive voice.

  “Is he with Jolie?” Dillon asked.

  “No. She left to go to town a while ago,” Gloria answered.

  “You sure Thad didn’t go with her?” her husband asked.

  “Positive.”

  “When’s the last time you saw him?” Dillon prodded.

  “Last night,” Curtis said. “He wasn’t up for chores this morning, but I didn’t think much of it, beyond annoyance.”

  “Maybe he just went to town for supplies.”

  “He’s never done that before without telling me.”

  “No,” Dillon said slowly. “Doesn’t make sense since we stocked up the week before Christmas.”

  “Then there’s the dogs,” Curtis interjected.

  “What about them?” Gloria asked.

  “I don’t think he fed them. Sue was scratching at the feed cupboard this afternoon.”

  “That doesn’t sound like Thad,” Gloria said. “Did he leave a note? A message?”

  “Not that I saw. Truck’s just gone.”

  “Anything? Any clue at all?”

  “Yeah, one other thing. The rifle we keep in the barn is gone, too.”

  15

  Just like you can be whoever you want when you travel, so can everyone else. Don’t trust anyone.

  Jo Duval

  ALL THOUGHT OF HUNGER dissipated as Jolie quietly made her way back to her room. Thad was gone? Why? Was it something she’d done? Something she’d said?

  She replayed the last time she’d seen him. It was while she was in the hot tub with everyone else. He’d seemed totally normal—joking, throwing snowballs and making a suggestive comment about visiting. That was it.

  Normal.

  Except now he was gone without telling anyone. Without saying goodbye.

  Something was wrong, Jolie felt it in her bones, and she was going to find out what it was. Pulling on her parka and boots, she made her way across the yard, past the barn to the bunkhouse. Humper and Digger ran up to greet her, but Sue didn’t. Jolie found her on the stoop of the bunkhouse, her head on her forepaws, looking forlorn. Her gut twisted as she bent down to give Sue a pat.

  She tried the knob and the door opened. No surprise. She’d never seen Thad use a key to open the door before. The late-afternoon sun lit the sitting area and even though Jolie had spent the night here three times and had stayed inside without Thad, she felt like she was breaking and entering.

  Everything looked much like it had the last time she’d been there: neat and sparse. The well-worn couch covered with throws, the cast-iron stove, with wood stacked beside it, the computer sitting on the small table that separated the kitchenette from the sitting area, the lamp, the shelf with books.

  She wandered into the kitchenette and touched the bottom of the sink.

  Dry.

  She opened the bar-sized fridge to check the contents. Eggs, milk, cheese, beer, butter, some jars with jam and condiments. Nothing unusual.

  Slowly, she made her way to the bedroom and switched on the light. The bed was made and everything was put away. Neat. There was nothing on the chest of drawers. Nothing hanging on any of the three hooks beside the door. It felt...empty.

  Same thing in the bathroom. Not that she’d really paid much attention because she’d been in there with Thad, showering, which meant she’d paid plenty of attention to his bare chest, to his powerful shoulders and kissable lips, not to mention his lovely erection. She’d barely noticed the contents of his bathroom, other than to note he kept it neat.

  She ran a finger along the bottom of the sink. It was dry, too.

  Then she noticed his toothbrush was missing from the holder. She opened the drawer in the vanity. It was empty.

  He was gone, and not just to town. The whole place felt...abandoned.

  What the hell?

  Her heart thudded behind her breastbone; she didn’t know whether to be worried or broken.

  “Ouch.” Jo stepped on something. She knelt down to see what it was, only to find her journal on the floor, sticking out from under the bed. What was it doing there?

  Oh. She’d been writing in it and must have left it on the night table. When was that? Yesterday?

  So, why was it on the floor?

  Had Thad read it?

  She opened it, flipping through the pages and reading snippets of her
entries, trying to see them through his eyes.

  “I wanted you from the moment I saw you...”

  “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met, I don’t know what I did before I met you...”

  “Take your clothes off for me, nice and slow, and I promise I won’t kill you...”

  Oh, God! No wonder he ran. He was running from her. Could she blame him? Over and over she’d insisted this was only a fling and she wasn’t becoming emotionally involved when all along she’d been writing crazy shit about him, the kind of ridiculous stuff that would make any red-blooded male run for the hills.

  She covered her face. Should she tell Gloria what happened? Reassure her that Thad would be back once she left? In a daze of humiliation, she stumbled back through the sitting room and went to the door to put on her boots. However, just as she was bending over to pull her second boot on, something jarred her memory. She stopped what she was doing to turn around. Something was different about the room, something other than the fact that Thad wasn’t there.

  She surveyed the contents one more time, her gaze landing on the laptop on the table. And, what was that beside it? A cell phone?

  Thad had a laptop and a cell phone? She’d never seen him use either, and they certainly hadn’t been there yesterday morning when she’d left; she was sure of it. With one boot on and one boot off, she sat down at the little table and started up the computer, tsking when it opened without even being password protected. Clicking the search engine on the desktop, she opened up his browsing history, hoping it might give her some idea where he’d gone. Maybe he’d booked a hotel in Half Moon Creek or Butte. Maybe he decided to take a last-minute vacation—away from her.

  She clicked on the most recent link and her confused heart exploded into a million pieces before settling at the pit of her stomach.

  She was staring at the FBI’s Most Wanted page—more specifically, at a picture of Thad. The man in the photo was much younger—barely more than a teenager—and his name was not Thaddeus Knight, but Lukas Hunter. Didn’t matter the name; it was Thad. The striking blue eyes were a dead giveaway.