Midnight Kiss

by Robyn Carr Brashear; Robyn Carr Brashear

  She evaded his grasp. And tried to tamp down the thought that not long ago, she might have gone with him.

  She had to get outside. Desperately. She couldn’t think, could barely breathe, she needed—

  Jordan suddenly stopped, her mind catching up with the frenetic whirl she’d been in since Christmas.

  Will. She needed Will.

  Outside the building, she leaned against the wall for a second, stunned. She could have been with Will tonight, but she’d closed the door on him at Christmas.

  Because he’d said he loved her.

  Because he wanted her to say goodbye to a life of easy conquests and meaningless encounters.

  Because he’d asked her to belong to him.

  But how could she be sure she could make him happy? Sure, she could try to change. And she would, for Will. But she was thirty-six years old, and people her age didn’t change, not really. There was a purity in his heart that she’d tarnish if she ever got too close. She’d accepted it long ago—born to be bad.

  So why didn’t she go back to that club and dance the night away?

  Because, she realized, she’d be less alone all by herself.

  How she wished Will was with her right now—she’d love to just hear his voice. She’d let him sweet-talk her with that damned silver tongue of his. If anyone she knew had kissed the Blarney Stone, it had to be Will Masterson.

  He might be at Marly’s. She could try to call, but first she’d have to get where she could hear. Sixth Street was mayhem this close to midnight.

  Her place was nearby. Jordan began running, darting through the crowd, skirting the drunks, avoiding the hands poised to grab.

  Everyone wanted their midnight kiss. In years past, she’d shared many of them.

  Every one meaningless.

  Will, she thought. I want Will. If only she hadn’t been so blasted stubborn. No, she wasn’t right for him, maybe. And she didn’t know how to believe in love.

  But oh, how he made her want to.

  How does he make you feel?

  Amazing, she thought. Special. Like he can’t see anything else when he’s with me.

  I love you, Jordan.

  Oh, God. What had she done?

  “Hey, baby—” Someone reached for her.

  Jordan shoved him away, kept moving.

  An ugly name followed her, but she didn’t care.

  Jordan sniffled, then realized her face was wet with tears. Damn him, damn him, damn him. What a way to start the new year, acting like some lovesick calf over a man who was her polar opposite, who didn’t even care enough to come after her.

  She smacked headlong into someone. “Sorry—”

  Hands grabbed her. She shoved back.

  “Jordan, darlin, it’s me.”

  Her head shot up. “Will? What are you doing here?”

  “Looking for you.” But this was not the jovial Will she knew who stood in front of her now.

  “Really? Why?”

  He only stared at her for a long moment, then drew her off to the side. He said something but she couldn’t hear him.

  “What?”

  He glanced up impatiently, searching the crowded street. One big hand locked around her wrist, he towed her along carefully until they reached the side street.

  Halfway down the block, she dug in her heels. “Stop. What’s wrong with you?”

  He turned on her, his eyes anything but the cocky, cheerful ones she was used to.

  “I should have listened to you.”

  “To me?” She went very still as the meaning of his expression sank in. Here it comes. He doesn’t love me. I’ve finally realized I love him just as he’s accepted what I’ve been telling him about how wrong we are for each other. Panic skittered up her spine. “Will…”

  “What do you like best about your work?”

  “What?” She stared at him in confusion.

  “Tell me why you became a lawyer.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t really know you.”

  Irritation stirred, and it felt much better than fear. “That never bothered you before.” She poked him in the chest with one finger. “I’ve said that again and again, haven’t I? But you keep telling me you understand me better than I do myself.” She stuck out her chin, waited for him to argue like always.

  When he didn’t, that worried her like nothing else. Her heart plummeted. “I don’t want you to know all about me.” She stared at her feet. “You won’t want me then.” And she wouldn’t be able to bear it. She turned blindly to flee from the pain crowding her chest.

  He grabbed her before she could escape. “What is it you want, Jordan? Answer me that.”

  She didn’t know this Will. He looked so weary, so serious. She longed to stroke his face, to run her fingers through his hair. To turn him back into the arrogant, cheery giant.

  To cuddle against him.

  She shivered at his distant manner. “What I want doesn’t matter. You know I can’t be your Marly and—”

  “I never asked you to.”

  She plunged ahead without listening. “—I would if I could, but— What did you just say?”

  “I don’t need you to be a Marly.”

  “But…” She frowned. “You’re meant for someone exactly like that, someone who can do all those things like cook and garden and—” She burst into tears. “I’m not that kind of person. Damn you, I wasn’t supposed to fall in love. I don’t know how to be any good at it.” She swiped at her runny nose. “This is all your fault,” she blubbered.

  Will reached in his pocket and brought out a handkerchief, wiping tenderly at her tears, then handing it to her so she could blow her nose. “What is?” he asked cautiously.

  “That nothing fits anymore. That my loft is too noisy, that I don’t want to dance with strangers, that—” She broke off at the sound of the crowd behind them chanting.

  “Ten…nine…”

  “Oh, no!” she wailed.

  “What is it? What’s wrong?” He moved closer.

  “We— I— It’s too soon!”

  “For what?”

  “I really, really wanted to kiss you at midnight, but now everything’s a mess. And you—you want to talk about things,” she spat.

  She thought she saw his lips curve a little but still he didn’t speak.

  “Eight…seven…”

  Desperation took over. “You know what? I don’t care. I am all wrong for you and you’re not my type, but—but—too bad. I love you, Will Masterson. Deal with it!”

  He only stared at her, and dread ran roughshod over her fear.

  “Six…five…”

  “Okay, okay!” She threw up her hands. “I—I like the battle of wits with the opposing counsel. And I—I became a lawyer because, because…well, I really don’t know why. I was just good at dissecting an argument. Not that you can tell that at the moment,” she muttered. Then she glared at him. “Now would you please just kiss me?”

  “Four…three…”

  His lips twitched but still he didn’t move. “You mean that? You love me?” he asked.

  “Yes! What did I just say? Will, please—” Blast the man. Would he never—

  Jordan reached up to take matters into her own hands.

  Before she could, Will crushed her against him, then laid on her a scorching kiss, one that was everything she’d ever hoped to feel of home and welcome and beginnings.

  Jordan’s knees turned to water. I didn’t ruin it.

  She drew back to be sure. “I didn’t ruin it, right?”

  Will smiled wide and clear as he shook his head. “You never had a prayer of escaping me, Jordan darlin’.”

  “You arrogant—” She started to argue for form’s sake, then thought better of it. They would argue again, probably often, but tonight…tonight was for lovers. For hope.

  For new beginnings. And if that meant she was as delusional as she’d accused others of being, well, so what? Everything seemed possible now.


  With bone-deep gratitude for stubborn Irishmen and second chances, Jordan rose to her toes and tightened her arms around Will’s neck. He picked her up and twirled her.

  “One!” the crowd screamed. Fireworks crackled in the sky. Horns blared.

  But Jordan and Will were oblivious to anything but each other.

  Far too busy laughing their way into midnight’s kiss.

  MIDNIGHT ASSIGNMENT

  Victoria Dahl

  This story is for Jenn, because she gets me.

  CHAPTER ONE

  “I’M NOT GOING TO LET you screw this up, Noah James, is that clear?”

  Noah ignored the question and watched Elise Watson’s sweet little backside as she walked ahead of him. Each of her long strides turned the gray conservative skirt into an intriguingly tight scrap of fabric before it relaxed into boring wool again. Then her next step would stretch it tight for another brief moment, cupping her muscles like a—

  Elise stopped so suddenly that he almost crashed into her.

  “I said, is that clear?”

  By the time she’d spun toward him, Noah had forced his gaze higher, and he managed to meet her eyes with a cool glare. He, after all, hadn’t been the one to screw things up the first time around. Elise had definitely been the one who’d caused that damage. She’d started the kind of trouble for him that had lasted two long years. Trouble that hadn’t ended until he’d stolen the Denver job out from under her nose and gotten the hell out of D.C.

  She was still pissed about losing the job, and her anger gave Noah an excuse to smile. “Whatever you say, Elise.”

  Her mouth tightened at his insolent tone. Her eyes narrowed. Elise Watson was about to lose her temper, and the agents waiting ahead of them in the hotel lobby were cringing visibly in anticipation. When she lost her temper, heads rolled, and Noah knew she’d be pleased as punch if it was his head bouncing across the faded blue of the hotel carpet.

  But hotel carpet it was, and he saw the moment Elise remembered they were in public. She couldn’t scream and cuss and threaten death, or the hotel staff might suspect that they weren’t really there for an emergency corporate meeting for a company called Workfire Industries. They’d already strained belief by holding their fake meeting two days after Christmas. If their supposed CEO started cursing like a sailor, punching Noah in the chest with her finger, suspicions would be raised. So her temper was thwarted. Noah was safe.

  Plus, he reminded himself, he was armed. Surely one five-foot-seven-in-heels woman couldn’t hurt him. Physically.

  She leaned a little closer, her green eyes ablaze with violence, but before she could speak, someone else called out.

  “Hey, Noah James!” Tex Harrison called. He was a forensic computer analyst, and though he looked like a scrawny seventeen-year-old boy trying to grow a beard, he was a genius. A perverted genius. Noah bit back a groan.

  “Noah, I heard you got an invite to party with the flight attendant team from your flight. Where are they staying?”

  Glaring, he gave a quick shake of his head, but Elise’s eyes slid back to him and caught the movement. “That’s not true,” he said, as if it could possibly matter to her.

  She swept him with a scornful look. “The bank closes in five minutes. I want your team in place in four.”

  “Don’t worry about my team.”

  “I swear to God you missed that flight just to make my life harder.” The frustration on her face softened to compassion for a fleeting moment. “These people are about to have a very bad evening. The least we can do is handle this quickly and smoothly.”

  Noah clenched his teeth. “The flight was canceled. I briefed my team at the airport while we waited. If anything goes wrong, it won’t be on our watch.”

  “You’d better hope not. Or you’re going to regret the time you put into flirting with flight attendants instead of prepping for the job.” With that, she swung around and stalked out to the tiny lobby.

  Noah watched the rest of the team jump at some quiet word from her. She was sharp and exacting and one of the smartest people he’d ever met. She demanded excellence and expected miracles, and everyone on her team knew it.

  She was damn good at what she did, and that made him crazy. After all, it would’ve been easy to get her out of his head if she weren’t as sharp as a razor blade. That kind of weapon sunk deep and true. His only consolation was that since moving to Denver, he didn’t waste so much time looking up whenever the elevator door opened, just in case it was Elise wandering down to his floor.

  Noah followed the rest of the team toward the door, sparing a second to glare promises of retribution at Tex. But Tex was busy hitting on one of the new girls and he only gave Noah a distracted wave in response.

  Taking a deep breath, Noah looked down at his watch. Three minutes.

  “It’s time,” he said, and his second in command stepped up to his side.

  They both unsnapped the guards on their holsters but left the safety on their weapons.

  Elise tossed him a glance. He gave a careful nod in answer and they both stepped toward the door, confident the other ten team members would follow. Ten more were assembled in the conference room, waiting for the signal to go, and two more teams were stationed outside the other two branches of the bank.

  “Mrs. Smith!” a perky blonde receptionist called out as they moved past.

  At the sound of the name she’d assumed for the case, Elise paused, her brown hair swinging forward as if she wanted to keep moving. “Yes?”

  “Are you sure you guys want to go out in the cold? It’ll be below zero by eight o’clock. We’ve got an arrangement with the local market, and I’d be happy to have dinner sent over. Maybe sandwiches or barbecue?”

  “No, thank you. We’re fine.”

  “Oh. Well… All right. It’s just so weird to have a conference and no food service, but I guess, if it’s an emergency meeting, like you said…”

  Elise stared at the girl as if she were speaking another language. The girl’s face turned pink, and Noah watched as Elise physically braced herself for the kind of polite talk people in places like Omaha expected. “Thank you so much for the offer, but we’re fine. We’ll have dinner out and then we’ll be back for another meeting later, so keep the coffee brewing.”

  “Oh, I’ll get some fresh cookies in the oven!” the receptionist responded.

  Noah almost laughed out loud at the horrified expression on Elise’s face. “That won’t be necessary.”

  The men and women around her groaned.

  “But…they’re complimentary,” the girl murmured in disbelief, but Elise was already walking away.

  Noah rolled his eyes at her before following Elise out the door. “Make the cookies,” he tossed over his shoulder, happy to needle Elise any way he could.

  The frigid Omaha air hit him with a cruel blow as they stepped past the heated comfort of the lobby. He was used to the occasional arctic cold front, but Elise shivered as she raised a phone to her ear.

  Noah listened while she checked in with each team. Behind her, downtown Omaha rose, huddled against the dreary twilight. The sight made the air feel colder, so Noah slid his eyes toward their target.

  The main branch of the bank was directly across the street, though Noah would be making trips to the other two branches soon enough. This branch looked cozy and cheerful in the darkening evening. The desks inside were decked out in faux pine boughs and holly, and a few employees moved behind the glass, waiting for the clock to strike six and send them back home to their families. One of the tellers wore a Santa hat.

  In a moment, Noah and all the rest were going to rush in and change their lives. He watched twinkling Christmas lights come to life in the plate glass windows of the bank. To Noah, the sight was the opposite of cheerful.

  Elise snapped her phone shut. “All teams are in place. Is everyone ready? Let’s go.”

  They were only a few hundred feet away, but they needed their equipment, so they slipped into two bla
ck SUVs and pulled out onto the street to drive straight across. The team in the conference room of the hotel wouldn’t be needed for another five minutes, so they hung back.

  Just as Elise slid out of the truck, the security guard approached the doors to shut the bank for the night. Elise reached into her pocket and moved forward. Ten feet from the door, Noah stepped into place beside her and signaled his men to stay close. The guard’s eyes widened. He froze for a second, then swept his hand toward the lock on the glass doors, fear taking his mouth in a grimace that looked a lot like a smile.

  Elise pulled her hand from her pocket and pressed the black square against the door. Metal clanked. The gold badge glinted its reflection against the glass. “Sir,” she said so firmly that the man stood straighter, even as his expression limped toward confusion. “Please step away from the door.”

  The guard lurched back, Elise pushed open the doors, and they were in control of the bank. Just like that.

  ELISE LOOKED AROUND at the frightened people and felt her gut clench, but she didn’t let even a hint of pain show on her face. Yes, they were scared, but truthfully, they were better off now than they had been ten minutes ago. Platte Regional Bank had been teetering on the edge of collapse for months. Now the last tether holding them in place was about to snap, and Elise and her fellow FDIC agents were here to save this place from smashing into ruin.

  “I’m Elise Watson, assistant director with the Federal Deposit Insurance Corporation. The FDIC has determined that Platte Regional Bank has become critically undercapitalized and is at immediate risk of collapse. In order to prevent this collapse, we have assumed control of the bank and all its assets and liabilities. As of 6:00 p.m., you are all employees of the FDIC.”

  Elise ignored the gasps around her and hurried on. “No one has lost his or her job. Your pay will remain the same until the new buyer takes control of the bank. And you do have a buyer. The new owner will be Simpson Finance, and they have assured us that once the riskiest assets are underwritten by the FDIC, the bank will be in sound financial condition and none of the branches will close. I know this is frightening news, but…” Her throat dried. Elise was at a loss, as she always was once she reached this part of the speech. She didn’t know how to connect with people or offer comfort.