A Dangerously Sexy Christmas

by Stefanie London

  The last time she’d pushed through these gold-trimmed revolving doors she’d been filled with dread of a different kind. She hadn’t wanted to meet with a stupid security consultant. She hadn’t wanted to accept her father’s help, nor face the fact that her life was seriously lacking.

  What had changed in a month since that meeting?

  Nothing, really. She was in exactly the same space she was before: no father, no boyfriend, no life.

  No love.

  Her chest ached as she jabbed the elevator call button. She’d gained it all and lost it in the space of four short weeks. Perhaps she was allergic to human connection? That would explain a lot.

  The elevator opened and she waited for it to empty out. A man with dark hair and stubble caught her eye as he walked past. Not Max. It felt as though not an hour could go by without her thinking she’d seen him.

  He’s in Australia, possibly as far away from you as humanly possible. He’s not coming back.

  Blinking away tears, she stepped into the elevator and hit the button for the security company’s floor. Her ears popped as she was whisked upward, her hand tightening, white knuckled, around the strap of her bag.

  Cobalt & Dane’s reception area was simultaneously classy and bland. The receptionist directed her to a white leather couch while she waited.

  “Miss Lawson?” A man appeared in the hallway that lead through to the offices. “I’m Owen Fletcher. Thanks for coming on such short notice.”

  She shook his hand, tried to smile. And failed. “Is this something we can do quickly? I need to be somewhere.”

  Owen nodded. “It won’t take long. Right this way.”

  He ushered her into a meeting room that looked identical to the one she’d met Max in on that first day. Plain table, plain chairs. Bare walls.

  Owen pulled out a seat for her and placed a folder on the table. “My apologies for calling you back in. I understand you’ve been through a lot recently.”

  If only you knew...

  She managed a tight-lipped smile. “Thank you.”

  “I’d like to say that our work always has a happy ending, but that’s not always the case.”

  Owen oozed warmth and compassion. Each word out of his mouth reassured her that for the duration of this meeting he cared about her. Maybe on some basic level he did, as a naturally empathetic person might.

  But she didn’t want that. She craved Max’s seriousness, his logic and reasoning. She craved the moment her teasing had broken through the businesslike shell and drawn a smile from his lips. She craved his strength, his courage and his unwavering pursuit of what he wanted.

  Swallowing, she looked up at Owen and waited for him to get on with it.

  “I just need you to read through this document and sign at the bottom. Normally we would get the client to do this, but since your case was a little different, we require that signature from you.”

  Her lips twisted into a grimace. “I should be glad to hear not that many people end up finding out their own flesh and blood are the ones hurting them.”

  “Don’t worry about how you should feel.” He placed a pen on top of the papers and slid them across the desk. “You’re only human.”

  “They send you out to warm people up, don’t they?” she asked, as her eyes scanned the fine print in front of her.

  “Max said you were a straight arrow.” Owen laughed. “And, yes, my charming personality is an asset in this job.”

  At the sound of Max’s name her heart twisted as though someone were wringing it out like a dishrag. Blinking back the tears in her eyes, she kept on her game face and continued to read through the document. By the time she got to the bottom, the room was silent except for the loud ticking of a wall clock.

  She scrawled her signature along the dotted line and put the cap on the pen. “Is that all?”

  Owen nodded and took the paper from her, tucking it back into his folder and pocketing the pen. “It is. But I’d like to say something before you go, if that’s okay?”

  Rose nodded, slinging her bag over one shoulder so he got the hint not to drag things on.

  “I’m not sure what happened between you and Max, and I’m not interested in the details. But—” he tilted his head and watched her with warm blue eyes “—I know he cared about you a lot...and quickly. That doesn’t happen with Max, ever. He takes a long time to let people in. But you were different.”

  A lump lodged in her throat. “Max didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “I’m not here to bust him, Rose. He’s back in Australia. There would be no point in sharing that information.” He smiled. “Besides, Max and I have been friends a long time.”

  Her hands shook as she hoisted the strap of her bag higher on her shoulder. “If you’re not here to bust him, then what are you trying to say?”

  “You should give him a chance. I don’t know what he did to screw things up with you, but I do know he cares about you a lot. He’s never loved anyone like he loves you. It takes a lot to throw Max off course, but you did.”

  “I didn’t want to throw him off course,” she said, the words coming out far steadier than she thought they would. “I wanted him to have everything he dreamed of.”

  “Then why didn’t you go with him?”

  “I couldn’t hold him back.”

  As she said it, she knew it was a lie. The truth was she’d never trap him in New York and she’d been terrified of following Max home. What if she went all that way and he changed his mind?

  She’d be homeless again. Heartbroken. Adrift.

  “If you say so.” Owen sat perfectly at ease in the office chair. He had one ankle crossed over his knee in a way that indicated total comfort and confidence.

  “Are you saying I’m lying?” Rose asked, incredulous that he’d read her thoughts.

  “Yes, I am. You’re lying to me and to yourself.” He tapped his fingers against his knee in a slow, even beat. “Not the kind of behavior I would expect from a straight arrow.”

  She blinked. “I’m not sure what you’re trying to do but—”

  “Rose, I’m not trying to do anything. I care about Max. He’s my best friend. Max loves you and I believe you love him, at least from what I can read from your body language.”

  She shifted, suddenly conscious of her posture and any little bits of information she might be inadvertently giving away.

  “I also know he’s miserable without you,” Owen continued. “He wanted to go home, but he didn’t want to leave you behind.”

  “How do you know he’s miserable?”

  She turned the information over in her mind, its hooks digging into her and dredging up all the hope she’d packed down tight. “Because he looked like shit when I drove him to the airport, and he sounded like shit when he called me after he landed. He wants to be with you.” Owen paused. “He loves you, like a damn fool.”

  A smile twitched at the corner of Rose’s mouth. “You’re not a fan of love?”

  He shook his head. “It works great for some people, but not for me. Max, however, is a commitment guy, once you get past that big wall with the keep-out sign.”

  “He does have a big wall, doesn’t he?” Despite the confusion clouding her mind, she laughed.

  “Oh, yeah. I had to badger him for a year before we really became friends. He doesn’t open up easily.”

  “I know that for a fact.” She sighed.

  “But he’s worth the trouble, right?”

  So worth it. Frustrating as it was, she’d thrived on the challenge of getting Max to open up. Of breaking down his barriers and pushing his limits. Could she really give up the possibility of a life of happiness with him?

  But it won’t be happy. You’ll lose him just like you’ve lost everyone else.

  “If you’r
e not serious, don’t contact him.” Owen pushed up from his chair and headed to the door. “It’ll break his heart if you leave him.”

  Numb, she stood and tried to gather herself. “I’d never leave him.”

  “You kind of already did.” He held the door for her and she walked past on shaky legs.

  “I was just trying to protect us both.”

  Owen tucked his folder under one arm. “Life’s too short to be chicken.”

  She opened her mouth to retort but Owen had already disappeared into the office. The receptionist watched her, a dainty brow raised.

  “Can I help you, Miss Lawson?” she asked.

  “I’m fine.” She righted herself and headed toward the elevator.

  “Mr. Fletcher said if you needed any assistance organizing a plane ticket, I should help you.”

  Rose turned, her heart pounding in her chest. “Excuse me?”

  “A plane ticket. Mr. Fletcher mentioned before you came in that you might want to book a flight to Australia. We often arrange secure transportation for our clients. It’s no trouble.” She smiled brightly.

  Rose hovered at the elevator for a moment, her finger poised to press the down button. If she turned her back on Max now this would be it. Forever.

  The word rang in her mind like a siren, a warning. But of what she wasn’t sure.

  She loved Max. There was no doubt in her mind about that. She’d known early on that lust was only one part of what was between them. She loved him. The word lifted the weight from her shoulders, dragged the air out of her lungs and filled her body with life.

  What would be the point of staying in New York without him? She had nothing here, no family, no ties. Her home was a cage of bad memories now, so she didn’t even have that.

  The only thing she wanted in the whole world was to be in his arms. Safe. Secure.

  “You know what?” She approached the receptionist. Her head was full of protests, but for once she was going to listen to her heart. “I would love some help with that.”

  * * *

  THE MOMENT ROSE disembarked from the plane, the heat hit her. It wasn’t the sticky, humid heat of a New York summer, but an oppressively dry, suck-the-life-out-of-you heat. The kind that felt as though your clothes might spontaneously catch fire.

  “Welcome to Melbourne.” The airline hostess smiled as Rose walked past her and through the corridor that would take her into Tullamarine Airport.

  She’d been traveling for twenty-four hours straight and had slept exactly none of that time. Thankfully, she’d only brought a tiny carry-on suitcase, which meant she could breeze right on past the baggage collection carousel and head straight to the line for a cab. Or did they call them taxis here?

  Around her, the broad, laid-back Australian accent floated in the air. Christmas decorations abounded, which felt strange given it was a billion degrees outside. She dragged her suitcase along, following the throng of people desperate to collect their loved ones and get the hell out of there.

  It was Christmas Eve, after all. A time for opening presents and eating chocolate for breakfast...not for traipsing through an airport.

  The line for the cabs was long but quick. She found herself in the back of a vehicle before she knew it, and the driver turned to ask her where she’d like to go.

  “Melbourne West Police Station, please.” She rattled off the address Owen had given her after she’d called him with her decision.

  The driver raised an eyebrow but turned to his GPS, and within minutes they were on the road. As much as she wanted to see Melbourne blurring past her window, the lure of slumber took over and she dozed most of the way until a loud horn startled her back into waking.

  They were scaling a huge bridge, the city rising up to her left. The sun glinted off tall buildings and the water beneath them, bathing everything in a sparkling light.

  The cab wound its way through the city and eventually pulled in front of a large building bearing the Victoria Police logo. Rose paid the driver and retrieved her bag from the trunk of the car. The city heaved; people came and went in a blur of color and noise. Horns sounded, the ringing bell of a tram caught her off guard as it sailed past.

  Sucking in a long breath, Rose walked through the automatic doors and relished the feeling of crisp, air-conditioned air on her skin. Her clothing was stuck to her and her hair was clipped away from her face. She probably looked like something the cat dragged in. Checking in at the hotel first would have been smart, but she couldn’t care less how she looked, for once.

  The woman behind the desk smiled in detached politeness as she watched Rose approach the counter. “Can I help you?”

  “I’d like to speak with Detective Max Ridgeway please.”

  “Detective Sergeant Max Ridgeway.” Max’s voice made her whirl around and she sucked in a breath at the sight of him.

  He did scrub up well in a uniform. His stubble was gone. The overlong hair she’d loved was now cropped to a more conservative length. But that dark, intense stare remained.

  Thank God.

  He held a binder that looked as heavy as her carry-on bag. “What are you doing here?”

  “I was hoping we could talk.” She shifted on her feet, her limbs stiff from hours of sitting in the same position.

  “Haven’t you heard of Skype?” His face revealed nothing, and something about seeing him in uniform made his poker face even more effective. “Or Facetime?”

  “I wasn’t sure you’d take my call.” She inspected the pattern of the tile underfoot.

  “So you spent a few thousand dollars on a flight to Australia?” He paused. “That’s quite a gamble.”

  She cringed at his choice of words. “I’m not happy with how we left things.”

  “How you left things. I didn’t want us to end like that.” He sighed. “I didn’t want us to end at all.”

  He wasn’t going to make this easy for her, but she wouldn’t hand it to him on a silver platter if their situations were reversed. “I know. That’s why I’m here...to fix things.”

  A crease developed between his eyes and he looked at the binder. “How do you think you’re going to fix things?”

  She fought the urge run. This was what love was about: laying yourself on the line, cracking open the shell around your heart and accepting the other person’s decision. Good or bad.

  “Any way I can.”

  His silence dragged on, his lack of response harder to bear than a million needles piercing her skin. Mercifully, he finally broke the quiet.

  “I’ll be finished work in about an hour.” He glanced at her suitcase. “Go to your hotel and have a shower, freshen up.”

  “Are you trying to tell me I smell?” Relief flooded her when the corner of his mouth twitched.

  “I’m not stupid enough to say that.”

  He took down the details of her hotel and promised that he’d be there. The wait would be torture and she wondered if the extra time would allow him to come up with all the reasons why they shouldn’t be together. If that was the case she’d have to bear it.

  Max was worth the risk. She’d make him see that.

  * * *

  TWO HOURS LATER, Rose sat on the bed of the hotel room staring at the door, willing Max to appear. She’d showered, unpacked, dried her hair, had a cup of tea, rearranged her clothes, restyled her hair and had another cup of tea.

  What if he didn’t show?

  She smoothed her hands over the smooth, expensive cotton of the bed’s duvet. He would show. That was the kind of guy Max was. If he said he’d do something, he would honor his word.

  Wouldn’t he?

  Shaking her hands, she stood and adjusted the yellow sundress she’d purchased the day she’d booked her flight. Bright, colorful, happy. It represented the life she wanted...
the life she wanted with him. Around her neck hung a long gold chain with a single semiprecious stone dangling from the end.

  The stone was a piece of Rhodonite. The woman who’d given it to her had said the stone was supposed to bring peace to troubled relationships...something to do with releasing blocked energy in the heart chakra. Whatever the hell that meant.

  Rose didn’t really know how it could help her and Max, but she was willing to do anything that might tip the odds in her favor. She ran a finger over the rose-colored stone, which was marbled with dark gray patches.

  It couldn’t hurt, right?

  A sharp knock on the door made her jump and she tripped over her own feet in her haste to greet her guest.

  Max stood in front of her, a vision of perfection. He’d changed out of his uniform into fitted jeans and a white T-shirt. His hair was freshly washed and un-styled. Perfect for her to run her fingers through, to tug as she kissed him.

  “Come in,” she said, her voice cracking with nerves. “Thanks for stopping by.”

  “I said I would.” He stood in the middle of the room, hands shoved into his pockets.

  “Can I make you a cup of tea?” She gestured to the kettle, suddenly desperate to put her hands to use.

  “I didn’t come here for tea, Rose. You said you wanted to speak to me?” His eyes swept around the room as though he were cataloging his surroundings. A habit he couldn’t shake, she suspected.

  “Yes, I did... I do.” She took a deep breath. “I’m sorry about the way things ended.”

  “So am I.”

  “I was really messed up about Dad.” She swallowed, her palms pressing against her stomach. “And I was applying his problems to us. That was wrong.”

  Max nodded but didn’t say anything.

  “What you offered me was scary. I didn’t think I could put myself out there again and risk falling for you even harder than I already had only to lose you later on.” She had to fill the void of his silence, anything to keep him here with her. “But I realized that you can’t love someone without risk.”