The Twelve Lies of Christmas

by Kate Johnson

  “You know,” I said, “it actually might be.”

  Epilogue

  “You still haven’t told me where we’re going,” Sam said, scanning the departures board.

  “It’s a surprise,” I repeated for the hundredth time.

  “A surprise like you being a spy?”

  “You said you’d already worked it out!”

  She cut her eyes at me. “Please, I was bluffing.” She looked back at the board. “Ooh, Tel Aviv.”

  “You really want to go to Tel Aviv?”

  “Hell no. But I don’t know, you spies are weird. You named your gun.”

  A woman passing by gave me a very nervous look.

  “That’s a euphemism,” I told her, and Sam convulsed with laughter.

  In actual fact we were going to Verbier in Switzerland, where I’d booked a luxurious chalet at great expense for New Year’s Eve. I’d never taken the time to learn to ski—despite what they tell you in those Bond films, it’s not actually compulsory—and the thought of cozy nights in by a log fire while snowflakes whirled against the dark sky appealed very much. Especially if Sam was there too.

  And it hadn’t escaped my notice that Verbier was the resort of choice for an awful lot of very rich people, many of whom had ever-so-slightly-shady reputations. Sam would be in her element.

  “So have they found a replacement for you yet?” she asked as we stepped onto the transit train to take us to the gate.

  “You make it sound so easy,” I complained, and she laughed.

  “I’m sorry. Have they begun the long and difficult journey that may one day end with the incredible reward of finding someone, a special someone, worthy of filling your manly shoes?”

  “Watch it,” I said, trying hard not to smile. And failing. “Actually, they started when I handed in my notice. But nothing so far. Pay’s not great, anyone who’s qualified wants to work for the big guys.”

  “Can’t they get a newbie and train them up? Great value for money.”

  “I think that’s the plan.”

  I knew my way around the airport pretty well and had considered the various ways of getting Sam on the plane without her finding out where we were going. If I still had my security pass, it’d be much easier, but I’d handed it in, happily, a few days ago.

  This meant, unfortunately, that she’d undoubtedly find out before we got there, unless I blindfolded and gagged her. Which the airport authorities usually frown on.

  Sending Sam off to the coffee shop, I sidled up to the blonde girl at the nearest departure gate and gave her my best smile.

  She gave me a suspicious look.

  “Hi. I’m flying to Geneva with you, and I’m just wondering if it’s at all possible to get my girlfriend on the plane without her finding out where it’s going to?”

  She raised her eyebrows.

  “It’s a surprise,” I explained.

  “Well, we have to make announcements relating to the actual destination,” she said. “People tend to get confused otherwise.”

  “Right. Could we pre-board? You know, before everyone else? Before you make the announcements?” I upped my Irish a little bit and smiled again, but she seemed to be charm-resistant.

  She sighed. She looked tired, her hair had mostly escaped its clip and her scarf was crumpled.

  “Sorry,” she said. “We have to make an announcement when the inbound plane lands. It’s company policy.”

  Dammit. “Okay.” I gave her another smile, which she returned this time, reluctantly. “Never mind. Thanks for your help.”

  I retreated, thought for a minute and got out my phone. Maybe Luke could smuggle her through; he had just enrolled undercover at the airport on the trail of some forger or something. I should have thought about this more in advance, but Sam’d had me…shall we say, preoccupied.

  Luke turned up while Sam was charming free biscuits out of the waiter, who rushed away, moon-eyed, to bring back platefuls of them.

  “You must be Sam,” Luke said, and she turned her smile on him like a searchlight. He blinked, but was otherwise impervious. Like the blonde gate agent.

  Hmm. Interesting thought. I glanced over at her, boarding a flight to Prague complete with two hen parties and a lairy group of lads off in search of severe drunkenness. She was being assisted by a swarthy trainee who kept making eyes at her over the crowd, and a guy who was so limp-wristedly camp I was amazed he managed to hold onto the bundle of boarding cards.

  Pulling my attention back to my former partner, I introduced him as, “A friend of mine, Luke Sharpe.”

  “When you say friend,” Sam said, looking him over, “you mean you were in the…civil service together?”

  “Yep.”

  “Ah. Okay. So you’re the guy who has to find a replacement for Nate?”

  “Can’t be done,” Luke said smoothly. “He’s irreplaceable.”

  “See, he got the hang of it,” I said to Sam.

  “But I give you so much more,” she said, and Luke rolled his eyes.

  I handed him the French cigarettes I’d bought in Duty Free, as a bribe for helping me out.

  He waved them away. “Don’t tempt me.”

  “You’ve given up?”

  Luke stared moodily out of the window. His gaze rested briefly on the blonde girl. “Apparently they’re bad for you.”

  I raised my eyebrows at Sam, who shrugged and offered Luke a free biscuit. I watched the blonde agent finish her gate report, then turn to her two colleagues.

  “Time for a break,” she said. “I really need coffee. You guys want a drink?”

  They looked at each other in horror, Neanderthal to Fairy. The blonde sighed.

  “Okay, how about you having a drink with me, and you having a drink with me?” she said instead.

  I smiled into my coffee.

  “What?” Sam said, and I indicated the blonde, who was gathering up a pile of boarding cards. She attempted to shuffle them like playing cards, and then as Luke turned back to look at her, she dropped them all over the floor.

  Luke has that effect on women.

  “You should hire her,” I told him, and he stared at me as if I’d just suggested he had sex with a chicken.

  “Sophie? Are you nuts? She’s a maniac. She can barely walk in a straight line, let alone think in one. And you should see her drive, it’s like a comedy sketch…”

  He stopped abruptly, perhaps aware he was protesting too much.

  “But on the upside, she is hot,” Sam said.

  “She’s a maniac,” Luke repeated, but he was watching Sophie’s butt as she picked up the boarding cards. “Come on. You have a plane to catch.”

  We gathered up our stuff and Luke stomped off ahead, scowling.

  “Did you really mean that?” Sam asked as we trailed behind.

  “About the girl?” I glanced back. “Be fun, wouldn’t it?”

  “It’d be a disaster movie,” Sam said.

  “It’d do him good,” I said. “Get a woman who’d give him a run for his money, stop him thinking about work twenty-four/seven, he might lighten up.”

  “Hmm,” Sam slung her arm around my shoulders, “that sounds familiar. By the way,” she added absently, “did you remember to book ski equipment?”

  I stared at her.

  “Come on,” she said, “you know you’re not the only one who can hack into a computer system.”

  I shook my head. Then I smiled. Then I laughed.

  Luke was holding open the door for us. “Have a nice trip,” he said. “And try not to con anyone.”

  “Wouldn’t dream of it,” I told him.

  I may have been lying.

  Well, you wouldn’t want me to be bored, would you?

  About the Author

  To learn more about Kate Johnson, please visit www.katejohnson.co.uk. Send an email to Kate at katejohnsonauthor@googlemail.com.

  Look for these titles by Kate Johnson

  Coming Soon:

  I, Spy?

&nbs
p; Ugley Business

  A is for Apple

  The night before Christmas, a deadly blizzard traps a lawman and a madam with a price on her head in a deserted town with a sadistic outlaw hell-bent on revenge.

  Christmas Showdown

  © 2006 Janette Kenny

  High-class madam, Katherine Winter, caters to wealthy men and vows nobody in her Kansas bordello will suffer the abuse she endured in the horrific marriage she’d escaped. She can choose her lovers, but longs for one who can match her in bed and out. Her senses tell her Daniel Creed is the man she's longed for—a man with a dark secret like herself, a man who'd do anything to protect what’s his. But he's a lawman, and dallying with him is playing with fire.

  Sheriff Daniel Creed has known Katherine Winter is the husband-killer on the wanted poster since she came to his town. The reward he'd get for turning her in would make him rich, but something about the aloof beauty stirs longing inside him. But there's no future for a half-breed gunslinger hiding behind a badge and a wanted woman except life on the run. So he keeps his mouth shut, figuring the most he can ever hope for is to love the lady from afar—and protect her.

  He never banked on the bounty hunter from his past hunting down Katherine, then setting the town ablaze to force Daniel into a fiery showdown.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Christmas Showdown.

  “This is the first time you’ve visited me,” she said. “Why is that?”

  Daniel met her gaze, respecting her too much to feed her lies. “None of your ladies appealed to me, and I never could afford you.”

  Hell, Katherine’s price was too high for most men in these parts. She was the queen of her castle, and Daniel was nothing more than a lowly servant. Even her piano player Fin was a step above him, sharing a familiarity with Katherine that most men could only dream of.

  Katherine sashayed toward him, and Daniel held his breath. The light from the fire gilded her hair a vibrant red and kissed the creamy bosom that swelled above a black lace corset. God help him if she touched him—

  “Ah, but I’m no longer in business and it is Christmas Eve. Stay, Sheriff, and we’ll celebrate together.”

  Daniel couldn’t recall ever taking part in Christmas, and the making merry he’d dreamed of doing with Katherine sure as hell didn’t include the piano man. “I don’t know.”

  “I made stew,” Fin said, as if the promise of a hearty meal would tip the scales in Katherine’s favor.

  Daniel didn’t need any more encouragement on that score. But they were right, and there were three people in this house. Wasn’t like Katherine was aiming to get cozy with him.

  The town was deserted, and Katherine was offering food, shelter and company. He’d be a fool to turn that down in favor of scorched beans.

  He nodded once. “Much obliged for the invite, then.”

  “Excellent. Now let’s get you out of those wet clothes. Fin can hang them by the fire to dry.”

  “Don’t aim to sit here in my drawers, ma’am.” Though there wasn’t a stick of furniture in the parlor.

  She laughed and motioned to Fin who scampered off. “As if I haven’t seen my share of naked men. But as you wish, Sheriff. Hang your coat to dry and join me upstairs where it’s warmer.”

  “Daniel.” He blurted his name out as he hooked his sopping wet coat on a peg and propped his rifle by the door.

  “Daniel.” She smiled, and the oddest jolt of satisfaction shot through him. “Please, call me Katie.”

  “Katie,” he said, testing it. “I like it.” It didn’t fit a painted lady, or a murderer.

  “My pa called me that when I was young.”

  He nodded, wondering if the nickname took her back to a time when her life had been good. If thinking of herself that way took away what she’d endured with Dowd.

  Whatever the reasons, the way he saw it, the only thing against Mary Kaye Dowd was a price on her head. The bounty he’d get from turning her in would make him a rich man. Maybe even make him a hero.

  Yep, if Daniel had believed Katie was as cold-blooded as that wanted poster claimed, he’d have locked her up years ago. But he hadn’t, so he’d done the only thing he could do these past two years—protect her.

  Daniel mounted the steps behind Katie, aching to step into the circle of light cast by her lone candle and knowing he had no right. But it didn’t stop the longing. The wondering how it’d feel to love a fine woman like her.

  She glided into her room with unhurried grace to the small table and chairs set up by the cast iron stove. He broke out in a sweat the second he stepped over the threshold, and it had nothing to do with the warmth radiating from the fire.

  Nope, Katie heated him in ways nothing else could. Being alone with her just put more thoughts in his head, ideas that centered around that big bed with her and him in it. Damn, what was keeping Fin?

  “Do join me, Daniel.” She took his hat and hung it on the bedpost, bringing another dream to life for him. “It’s been a long time since I’ve shared a dinner with a gentleman caller.”

  That dredged a laugh from him. “Don’t recall my name ever being tied with gentleman before, and don’t reckon I’ll hear it again.”

  “You do yourself a disservice.” She sat at the chair nearest the stove, which was fine by him since he was smoldering inside.

  “I know my place.”

  “As in the social ladder? Women of my repute reside at the bottom rung, perhaps lower.” She adjusted the shawl around her, and he envied it wrapping around those silken shoulders and grazing her ripe bosom. “Would you look at the crystal doilies the wind has crocheted on my windows?”

  He tore his gaze from her. “Can’t see out.” Or in.

  Like being caught in a silky web, and that got him thinking about black widows. Dammit, why couldn’t he forget that wanted poster?

  “It’s as if Mother Nature is burying Campaign under a blanket of white while the wind mourns its death.”

  “Never thought of it that way.”

  “Do you suppose folks will settle here eventually?”

  “Don’t know. You thinking of staying?”

  “No, it’s time for me to move on. I liked Campaign, and I believe we could have weathered Prohibition, but the day they stopped driving cattle through here to the railhead in Abilene is the day this town started to die. Tell me, Daniel, what will you do now?”

  Damn if he knew, which was why he was still here. Like her, Campaign had been a haven for him, too.

  “Head west, I ‘spect. What about you? Where are you going?”

  “California. I’ve heard it’s warm there year-round.”

  “Long way off.” From here, and the past hanging over her head in Illinois. He folded his arms on the table and leaned forward. “Is that where your girls are headed?”

  “I don’t know their plans. Some will find a new house to ply their trade, some will marry, and some will do like me and quietly retire.”

  “You got someone special waiting for you in California?”

  “Not a soul.”

  “Don’t you have any family?” Like the little boy she’d run off with after she’d killed her husband.

  She slid him a sad smile, and this time he knew he wasn’t imagining grief flickering in her eyes. “No.”

  Damn, had the child died? Or had he been wrong about her and she’d killed her son as well?

  When she breaks free from the bondage of her past, he’ll be waiting

  Understood

  © 2006 Maya Banks

  Jake Turner committed the ultimate mistake of falling in love with his best friend’s wife. The distance he puts between them costs both him and Ellie Matthews dearly. Jake will never forgive himself for not seeing what a bastard his friend was. Now that Ellie is free from her nightmare, Jake waits, needing and wanting. He’ll be there when Ellie is ready to spread her wings.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Understood.

  Jake Turner glanced around at the gaudy Christmas decorat
ions adorning the interior of Zach’s Bar and Grill and suppressed a grimace.

  He motioned for another beer and ignored what his buddy next to him was yammering about. Things were always lively at Zach’s close to Christmas. Jake could never figure out if people were getting out to celebrate the season or if they were all just lonely and looking for another human being to connect to.

  “Earth to Jake. Come on, man, you’re in another world over there.”

  Jake blinked then scowled at his friend, Colin. “What the hell do you want?”

  Colin nodded toward the door. “Isn’t that Ray’s ex coming in?”

  Jake’s pulse quickened, and he yanked his gaze toward the entrance. All his breath left his body in one hard rush. What the hell?

  His gaze came to rest on Ellie Matthews as she stood just inside the doorway. Only it wasn’t Ellie as he was used to seeing her.

  She took a hesitant step forward then stopped and scanned the room, her eyes wide. Her bottom lip worked between her teeth, a sure sign of her nervousness.

  Long soft curls spilled over her shoulders, hair that a man would itch to thrust his fingers into as he thrust into other parts of her body.

  But what had his blood pressure soaring was her get-up. Despite it being the middle of December, she wore a top barely held up by the spaghetti strings over her shoulders. The neckline plunged, and the material cupped her breasts in all the right places.

  Her mini skirt, if you could call the scrap of denim barely covering her ass a skirt, rode so high up on her thighs that Jake knew if she moved wrong, the entire bar would get a glimpse of her pussy.

  She had a “fuck me” ensemble going on complete with “ride me hard” shoes. He’d never seen her in high heels once, and yet she teetered unsteadily toward the bar in three-inch, fire-engine red heels.

  “Jesus, I had no idea she was so damn hot,” Colin muttered.

  Jake rounded on Colin with a ferocious glare. “Shut the hell up,” he growled.

  Colin raised an eyebrow in surprise but remained silent.