“Oh Sam.” She sighed. “That’s so pitiful. You knew it wouldn’t work out. Don’t you get it? That was a self-fulfilling prophecy.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes. If you were so sure our marriage would fail, then you didn’t have to try to make it work. So when it ended, you could pat yourself on the back and say See? I was right.”
While she opened her suitcase and unpacked, Sam stood in the doorway, considering. He’d never thought of it like that before and he didn’t much care for the idea now, either. Besides, did it matter why their marriage had come apart? The point was that it had and the only thing Sam was interested in was now.
Then he scowled again when he realized that not long ago, she’d accused him of thinking only of the now. Her being right about that was more irritating than he wanted to admit. How the hell had they gotten onto this anyway? He didn’t need therapy and if he did, he wouldn’t go looking for it from his almost ex-wife.
“So why did you ask me to marry you in the first place?” she asked.
“Now you want the answer to that?”
“Better late than never,” she quipped. “You said you knew it would fail, but you did it anyway. Why?”
“Because I wanted you.”
“Not good enough.”
He pushed one hand through his hair. “I wanted...”
“What, Sam? What did you want?”
“To belong, I guess.” Sam’s mouth snapped shut but it was too late, a bit of the truth had slipped out.
“Oh Sam, you did belong. With me.” She shook her head. “And you let me go.”
Yeah he had and she had no idea how much that had cost him. Losing Mia had been like ripping his own heart out. And still he’d done it because he’d believed it was better for both of them.
“So the plan is to give me a hard time?”
Her mouth worked and her eyebrows arched. “I don’t think I’m in charge of the hard time.”
“Funny. But the question stands.”
“Oh relax, Sam. I’m not going to torture you or anything. It looks like you’re doing a good enough job of that on your own.” She carried a toiletry kit into the bathroom and glanced around. “Hmm. Tiny.”
“You can use mine,” he said.
“Thanks. I might.” She came back into the room and looked up at him. “Anyway, you barely listened to me when we were married, so why would you listen now?”
“I listened.”
She rolled her eyes and he gritted his teeth. Maybe having her stay with him hadn’t been such a great idea after all.
“I thought we’d have dinner on our balcony tonight,” he said, changing the subject. “I’ll have the chef send up his specialties.”
“Oh.” She bit her bottom lip.
“Problem?”
Shrugging, she said, “I already ordered an early dinner to be sent up. It should be here any minute, actually.”
“Really?” He smiled, feeling better about this whole thing. An intimate dinner, just the two of them, then to bed. Worked for him. “That’s great. I’m glad you’re comfortable here.”
“Oh, absolutely.” A knock on the door sounded and Mia patted his arm. “That’s dinner.”
It was only five, but if she wanted dinner now, Sam would find a way to be hungry. Besides, the earlier they ate, the earlier he could get her into bed, where he most wanted her. He followed her out and saw her open the door to two crew members carrying trays. Whatever she’d ordered, there was plenty of it.
“Oh, thanks, Brian,” she said. “Can you guys just put it on the dining room table?”
“Sure thing, Mrs. Buchanan.”
Sam moved fast, getting to the table first and sweeping up the ship blueprints he’d been studying earlier. Two covered trays were set down on the polished teak table and then the first steward asked, “Is there anything else we can get you?”
“No,” she said, “that’s great. Thanks again. Oh, is Steven on his way?”
“Yes, ma’am. And Devon’s bringing the rest of the stuff you asked for.”
She beamed at him and Sam couldn’t blame the kid for flushing bright red. “Terrific.”
“What stuff?” Sam asked and Brian slipped out the door to avoid having to answer the boss.
“You’ll see,” Mia told him.
“Fine.” Sam looked at the trays a little warily. “So what’s for dinner?”
“That’s a surprise, too,” Mia said with a grin, then turned to the door at the sound of a kid shouting.
Sam frowned but couldn’t look away. As the stewards left, a young woman in a crew uniform approached, holding two kids by the hand. Maya’s kids. Sam just barely muffled a groan.
“Aunt Mia, hi!” Charlie pulled free and raced to her.
Mia bent down to hug him, then grabbed Chris close too, as soon as the young woman got him up the stairs. “Hi you guys! Are you ready for your party?”
“Christmas tree?” Chris asked, looking past her into the barren, if luxurious suite.
“Soon, sweetie,” she assured him. “Now why don’t we go have dinner? It’s your favorite. Hot dogs!”
“Yay!” Charlie raced to the table, shouting “Hi Uncle Sam,” as he passed.
Both kids raced across the elegant carpet, leaving a trail of sweaters and what looked like bits of snow in their wake.
“Hot dogs?” Sam looked at her as she led Chris to the table, too.
“I thought it would be nice for us to give Maya and Joe and my folks an evening off. We can spend some time with the kids and the adults can go have dinner together.” She shrugged and gave him a wide-eyed, innocent smile.
“Uh-huh.” He glanced to where Charlie was standing on a hand carved chair, trying to lift one of the tray covers. Sam moved fast. He lifted the heavy cover, then told Charlie to sit down.
“I like ketchup,” Chris said, scrambling for a seat himself.
“Mine’s mustard, right Aunt Mia?”
“Right, sweetie.” Mia moved up to the table and set out plates for both boys and fixed hot dogs for each of them. “Here’s some mac and cheese, too. Don’t use your fingers, Charlie. Chris, do you want some? And we’ve got juice boxes here somewhere too.” She lifted the other lid, found juice and glasses and ice, along with a plate of chocolate chip cookies for dessert.
Chris reached for a juice and tipped the glass over. A river of what looked like cherry juice ran across the table and over the edge to land on the hand woven rug.
Sam muffled a groan and dropped a stack of napkins on the puddle. He was not set up for small children.
“I need more juice,” Chris whined.
“Sure sweetie,” Mia cooed and took care of that.
Sam was watching it all as if from a distance. His personal space had been invaded by a horde of barbarians and all he could do was watch.
“Yay! Can we watch a movie about Christmas because we get to decorate a Christmas tree and where is your tree, Uncle Sam?”
Sam’s ears were ringing, but he stared at Mia as if he’d never seen her before. He should have suspected something when she’d arrived. She had been too smiley. Too accepting of the whole situation. Of course she’d had something planned.
“Christmas tree?” he asked.
She shrugged and smiled again. “If I’m going to stay here with you, we need to get into the spirit.”
“Mia...” He didn’t do Christmas and she damn well knew it. What was she up to? Trying to drag him, kicking and screaming, into the holiday? And using the kids to guilt him into agreeing?
“Steve, the cruise host is bringing in one of the trees that wasn’t set up.” She paused and said, “You had way more trees than you needed, so at least someone who works for you likes Christmas. Anyway, Steve said the extra trees were stored in the hold.”
“Movie!�
�� Chris shouted and took a bite of his hot dog.
“Small bites, Chris, and chew it really well,” Mia warned. Sam looked at the kid like he was a live bomb. He really did not need one of the boys choking on a hot dog.
Mia picked up a remote, and turned the wide screened TV on. She hit the right channel and played Home Alone for the boys who started laughing the minute they saw their favorite classic.
Then she got back to her subject as she tossed a few silk pillows to the boys so they could lay on them. “So anyway, Steve’s bringing the tree and Devon, the Assistant Cruise Director, said he’d find the decorations that were set aside in case they were needed and I thought we could have a decorating party with the boys.”
“I’m good at decorating,” Charlie told him. “Can we get snow from the snow room to put on it?”
“No,” Sam said and ignored the kid’s crestfallen expression. Looking at Mia, he said, “You got my employees in on this?”
“Yep, and they were really great. Everyone was so anxious to help out the boss’s wife.”
Yeah, he bet they were. “You set me up.”
“I really did.” Mia grinned, patted his arm, then leaned over to pick up a hot dog. Layering it with mustard, she added, “Now all you have to do is enjoy it.”
Enjoy Christmas trees and decorations and kid movies and two kids laughing and talking at pitches only dogs should be able to hear? Yeah. He’d get right on that.
“I don’t—”
“Like Christmas. I know. But it’s just a tree, Sam.” She pushed her hair back from her face and held her hot dog out to him. “Want a bite?”
He shook his head and she grinned at him. “So the question is, are you going to disappoint the boys—and me—or are you going to pretend to be a Christmas elf?”
“Our elf went swimming in the toilet today,” Charlie said around a bite of hot dog. “Chris said Buddy wanted to swim so Chris put him in the toilet cuz it’s like a little pool for elfs.”
“Elves,” Mia corrected.
“Mommy used her hair dryer on him, but he was still wet, so he’s going to get a tan out in the sun tomorrow.”
“A tan,” Sam repeated.
Chris piped up and added, “Mommy says elfs can’t swim good so I shouldn’t put him in the pool again.”
“Good plan,” Sam said, then took a breath and blew it out.
Elves in toilets. Christmas trees. Hot dogs. He looked at Mia and he was lost. Her green eyes were sparkling with suppressed laughter. She was really enjoying all of this. The shouts, the kids kicking their heels against the chairs, the movie turned up to a deafening level and his consternation at what had happened to his nice, orderly world and his seduction plans.
What the hell was a man supposed to do with a woman like that?
A knock on the door sounded again before he could figure it out, and both boys shouted “Christmas tree!”
Mia just looked at him. Waiting.
He could leave. Do some work. Make some calls. But he wasn’t going to. He may have blackmailed Mia into moving in, but it seemed, she was getting him to do things he wouldn’t normally do, too. And, he thought, they both knew it. Shaking his head, Sam said, “I’ll let them in. And I want mustard on my hot dog.”
Eight
Three hours later, the boys were exhausted, the Christmas tree was beautifully decorated from the middle down and the scent of hot dogs was clinging to the air.
Mia smiled to herself. The evening had gone better than she’d hoped. Even though he’d been coerced into taking part in their festivities, Sam had come around. He’d put the lights on the tree, watched the kids hanging ornaments as high as they could reach and joined them for some chocolate chip cookies during the Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer movie.
But the best part, she told herself, was seeing little Chris climb up on the couch to cuddle with his uncle and Sam automatically wrapping his arm around the boy. He probably hadn’t even noticed when it had happened, but she had and Mia was still smiling to herself over it.
When Maya and Joe showed up to collect their kids, Joe scooped Chris into his arms and Maya took Charlie’s hand in hers. Looking around at the detritus left behind by her children in what was usually a tidy, elegant space, Maya grinned.
“Seems like everyone had a good time,” she said, looking directly at Sam.
“It was fun,” Mia told her and bent to kiss Charlie goodbye.
“Thanks for watching them,” Joe said. “It was nice having dinner and only cutting up my own meat.”
Sam laughed and Mia beamed at him. Really, he’d been great with the kids and her heart was feeling so full, she might burst. This was what she’d hoped for in her marriage. What she wanted most in her life. And this, she told herself had been what she and everyone else had worried about. Being around Sam, spending time with him, had her falling in love with him all over again.
Yes, he was a little stern and so dedicated to his business he barely noticed life around him most of the time. But oh my when she did have his attention, when he was relaxed, he made her feel so much. Made her think about possibilities.
Made her remember how much she loved him.
Her heart did a tumble and roll in her chest and she knew she was in trouble. She was supposed to be here to get the man she loved to sign divorce papers when all she really wanted was for him to stop her. For him to say he didn’t want to split up. That he loved her and wanted to be with her always.
That he wanted this life they could have together.
And what were the chances of that happening?
Slim, she told herself firmly. So what she had to do, was remember why she’d wanted the divorce. It hadn’t been because she didn’t love him. But because she was tired of being married all alone.
Maya’s expression was wary, as if she couldn’t really believe that any of this was happening and Mia couldn’t blame her twin. She’d hoped of course, that Sam would go along with her plan to watch the kids and have a Christmas evening, but a part of her had been sure he’d find a way to disappear. After all, when they were together, disappearing had been his superpower.
He’d surprised her tonight and clearly her sister was a little stunned, too.
“Thanks again,” Maya said, holding onto her oldest son while cradling her baby bump with her free hand. “We’re taking these two off to bathe and go to bed.”
“Good idea,” Sam said, tucking both hands into his pockets. “We’ve all got mustard, ketchup and mac and cheese on us.”
Maya laughed and winked at her sister. “So, a typical dinner. Good to know.”
Joe headed for the door and Maya was right behind him. But when she got to the door, she paused as Charlie broke free of her grip and ran to Sam to hug him around the legs.
“Thanks Uncle Sam. That was great!”
Clearly a bit embarrassed, Sam gave the boy an awkward pat and said, “You’re welcome.”
Charlie grinned up at him, then darted back to his mother. “Is Buddy the Elf dry yet, Mom?”
“Let’s go check,” she said and gave Sam a nod and a slow smile before they left.
Mia closed the door behind them and leaned against the heavy panel. Amazing how two little kids could completely exhaust you in a matter of hours. As much as she loved her nephews, she was grateful for the sudden silence that dropped on the suite. Looking at Sam, she asked, “Should we call the kitchen, have someone come and take away the trays?”
“What?” He shook his head, then reached up to push both hands tiredly through his hair. “No. Let’s not. They can come for them tomorrow. I’ve had enough of people for tonight.”
“Me too,” she said and moved away from the door to walk to him. He had mustard on his shirt, dried ketchup on his chin and a stray macaroni noodle stuck to his collar. Smiling, she reached up and plucked it off, then showed it to him. “A
different look from those tailored suits of yours. I like it.”
“How the hell—”
“No one knows,” she said. “Get too close to children and you’ll come away covered with all kinds of interesting things.”
“How do they have so much energy?”
“Another mystery.” Mia moved into him, wrapping her arms around his waist, laying her head on his chest.
His arms came around her and he rested his chin on top of her head. “Did you enjoy all of that?”
She leaned back to look up at him. “I really did. How about you? Were you completely miserable the whole time?”
Sam frowned at her. “You know I wasn’t.”
“Yeah, I know. I just wanted to hear you admit it.”
“Fine. Here it is then.” Taking a breath, he looked into her eyes and said, “I admit it. It was fun. Watching the kids put the ornaments on the tree—” he glanced across the room to where the brightly lit, artificial tree almost seemed to be leaning to one side because the kids had clumped everything together. Looking back into her eyes, he continued. “Hot dogs for dinner. The mac and cheese was good...”
She held up the one dried-up noodle. “So I noticed.”
Sam snorted. “I even liked that movie—Home Alone?”
Stunned, she asked, “You’ve never seen that before?”
“Why would I?” He shrugged. “I don’t do Christmas, remember?”
“Sometimes you amaze me.”
“Thanks.” One corner of his mouth quirked up. “Anyway, it wasn’t as terrible as I thought it would be.”
“High praise indeed,” she said, then went up on her bare toes to plant a quick kiss on his lips. “And now... I think I need a shower as badly as the boys need their baths.”
“Right there with you.”
“That’s what I was hoping,” she murmured, staring into his eyes.
“What?”
“I said,” Mia trailed her fingers down his shirtfront. “I was hoping you’d be right there with me, in the shower—unless you’re too wiped out.”
Slowly, a wide grin curved his mouth. “Yeah, I think I’m getting my second wind.”
Temptation at Christmas Page 11