The Twelve Dates of Christmas

by Susan Meier

  Confusion flitted through her blue eyes. “Why?”

  He shrugged. “She was a single woman living alone in an expensive condo in New York City.”

  “She must have had a great job.”

  “She had no job.”

  “Rich parents?”

  “Nope.”

  “Oh.”

  “Exactly. She’d gotten the condo from the last guy she dated. After she told me she was pregnant, I ended up picking up the tab for her utilities, groceries...all her monthly expenses.”

  “Yikes.”

  “Not that I minded, but I knew I had been bamboozled.” Needing to change the subject quickly, before she started asking questions, he said, “What about you? Any bad dates in your history?”

  She cuddled closer, wrapped her hands around his arm and closed her eyes. Their breaths misted on the chilled air. He knew she’d nestled into him for warmth, but his chest loosened. His nerves settled. She wasn’t upset anymore.

  “In high school, I only dated boys my parents approved of. In college...” She shrugged. “You know that story.”

  “Yeah.”

  They lapsed into comfortable silence. The horse’s hooves clip-clopped. The freezing night air bought them closer under the blanket. Everything inside him stilled. For the first time in eighteen months, he was calm. Totally calm.

  After a few minutes, he realized she’d fallen asleep. Her crying must have worn her out. He tucked the covers more tightly around her and leaned back, closing his eyes and enjoying the fact that he wasn’t working or thinking about work or at a party talking about work.

  After a while, the driver turned the carriage around and headed back. The air became colder and colder and they nestled tighter and tighter under the blanket, sharing their warmth.

  A contented smile framed Eloise’s beautiful face. He studied her perfect complexion, her small nose, the fan of black eyelashes that rested on her pale skin. He’d never met a woman so physically perfect. A princess.

  His brow furrowed. An abandoned princess. Somebody nobody wanted.

  When the carriage stopped, he shook her gently. “Time to get up.”

  Her eyes popped open. “I fell asleep?”

  He laughed. “Only for a little while.” The longing to kiss her bubbled up again. If anyone deserved love, it was her. Their gazes locked. A spray of rain tumbled from the branch of a nearby tree and drummed against the carriage roof. Seconds ticked off the clock, as they gazed into each other’s eyes and desire warred with common sense. He had nothing to offer her but money...and himself. A broken, guilt-ridden man, who might end up hurting her more than her parents had.

  The driver appeared at the side of the carriage, breaking the mood and taking the decision to kiss her out of his hands.

  “Ride’s been paid for, including tip.” He grinned. “For which I add a hearty thank-zyou.”

  Not wanting Eloise to know he’d paid double for the ride to assure a happy driver, Ricky shoved the covers away. “Come on.”

  He helped her down from the carriage and directed her across the street to the waiting limo.

  Norman pushed off the front bumper and opened the door as Ricky and Eloise approached.

  “Nice ride?” he asked Eloise as she got closer to the car.

  She smiled. “Very nice.”

  Ricky got into the limo behind her. With the heater blasting, they had no need to huddle together. And he missed it. Settling onto the supple leather seat a few feet away from her, he missed her warmth. He missed comforting her. Nothing made him feel normal the way pleasing her had. But there was more to it than that. He always felt a connection, a yearning when he was with her that went beyond simple bonding. It was like they belonged together.

  But he knew in his heart that had to be wrong. He didn’t belong with anybody. Not only was he so broken he didn’t have anything to give, but he hurt the people who got closest to him and he absolutely refused to hurt Eloise.

  In front of her apartment door, she smiled slightly. “Thank you. I had a great time.”

  “You feel better then?”

  “Yes, though I’m sorry I got all hysterical.”

  “Believe it or not, I’m not.” He paused. “It was nice to do something out of the ordinary. To talk about things other than work.”

  Her hopeful gaze met his. “You should do it more often.”

  He glanced away. “Maybe.”

  “Well, it was fun and I appreciate it.”

  He caught her gaze again. Saw the smile in her eyes. Felt the ice around his heart melt.

  A need to be worthy of her raced through him, heating his blood. A wish that he could love her rose from the very bottom of his broken, battered soul. His whole body vibrated with the desire to be whole. To be ready. To be everything she needed him to be.

  She reached out and wrapped her arms around his waist, hugging him to her.

  He knew she meant it as a thanks, but sensation after sensation rippled through him. Trust. Need. Yearning. They were so strong he couldn’t resist the urge to raise his arms and settle them around her shoulders. When her arms tightened in response, his arms tightened too.

  He closed his eyes, fighting the longing to kiss her that swelled in him. He reminded himself he was broken. Told himself she deserved better. But the carriage ride, the look of contentment on her face, the way she had listened to him without asking unwanted questions, without judgment, all formed like bright pictures in his head, blocking out the negative, until he couldn’t fight instinct anymore. He opened his eyes, bent down and put his lips on hers.

  At first he didn’t think she would respond, but her lips came alive slowly, tentatively, as if she were every bit as afraid of their feelings for each other as he was.

  Something dark and possessive rose up in him. He deepened the kiss, and she followed, again slowly, again tentatively. Their tongues twined, and his heart overflowed with something so intense it took his breath away.

  This was right. He knew it was right.

  When he could stop thinking about Blake, about his mistakes, about his stupidity, all he felt was rightness with her. A click.

  But even that scared him. When he was with her, nothing else in the world mattered. But maybe that was the scariest thing of all. Could he love someone so much that he’d forget his son? Was it even right to love someone so much that he forgot his son? His baby. His heart.

  He pulled back, knowing every bit of his turmoil, every bit of his need was in his eyes.

  She smiled tentatively. “Good night.”

  “Good night.”

  He tried to turn away, but his feet felt rooted to the spot. Her warmth drew him. He wanted to stay close to it. But he also didn’t want to hurt her.

  He started down the hall before he lost his conviction. The aftereffects of the kiss hummed through him. Part pleasure, part yearning, they drove him to race down the steps without faltering.

  As good as this felt right now, he knew getting involved with her—with anyone—could be the biggest mistake of his life.

  Or hers.

  CHAPTER NINE

  ELOISE STEPPED INTO her apartment, closed the door and leaned against it.

  He kissed me.

  They hadn’t just had a private evening in the carriage ride she’d longed for since childhood, but he’d kissed her. Not forced by mistletoe. Not a little tipsy from tequila. But with real emotion.

  She walked into the cold, silent apartment, wishing Laura Beth wasn’t dating Tucker’s vice president. The late-night coffeehouse meeting hadn’t turned into a job for Laura Beth. It had become a romance. And now Ricky had kissed her and she just wanted to share the news, but there was no one to share it with.

  The sound of the key in the lock of their apartment door cl
icked into the silent room. She spun around to see Laura Beth and Bruce stumbling into the apartment.

  When they saw her, they both froze. “Eloise? What are you doing here?”

  She smiled, hoping her entire face wasn’t glowing with joy. “I live here.”

  Laura Beth gave a fake laugh. “Right. I just thought your party would last longer.” She faced her boyfriend. “You remember Bruce?”

  She stepped forward and shook his hand. “We weren’t actually introduced.”

  He smiled politely. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  The air tingled with awkwardness. She normally didn’t dislike someone on sight, but Bruce’s slick good looks gave her an odd feeling. His blond hair was too yellow. His tanning booth tan too dark. It was as if he was trying to look like a surfer king. But he didn’t live in the tropics. He lived in bitter cold New York City, where it rained when it should be snowing and snowed when it was least convenient.

  His gaze slid to Laura Beth’s and he nudged his head in the direction of the bedrooms.

  Eloise’s skin actually felt like little bugs were crawling on it.

  Laura Beth pointed down the hall. “I’m just going to get some things from my room, then Bruce and I will be off again.”

  “Okay.”

  Laura Beth scooted away.

  She found herself alone with Bruce, who looked her up and down, as if he were judging her or comparing her to Laura Beth...or just being plain sleazy.

  She thought of the mother of Ricky’s son. A woman who’d taken a condo from her first boyfriend and used her pregnancy to get living expenses from Ricky. And suddenly everything Ricky had done in the past weeks, his hesitancy, his fears, made perfect sense.

  Laura Beth raced into the living area again. With a small overnight bag in her hands, she grinned at Eloise. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Eloise nodded and the pair left.

  Considering sleazy Bruce, and perhaps making incorrect comparisons to Ricky’s child’s mother, she walked down the hall to her bedroom, understanding why Ricky was taking his time with this romance. Not everybody in this world was trustworthy. He’d been burned. Obviously badly. He would not want to be burned again. That’s why it took him so long to trust her.

  Some of her joy returned. Ricky was a good, honest guy.

  And he liked her. If that kiss was anything to go by, he really liked her.

  Plus, she’d rushed into things with Wayne.

  If anybody understood the reasoning behind taking things slowly and valuing every step, it should be her.

  So if she understood, why did thinking about Bruce suddenly make her feel trouble was on the horizon?

  * * *

  Barefoot and wearing only a fleece robe, Ricky trudged to his silent kitchen the next morning. At the counter, he pressed the button to reveal his coffeemaker. He pulled a single-serve container from the fancy holder, tossed it inside and set his coffee to brewing, remembering how Eloise still missed her stolen coffeemaker.

  He laughed, then squeezed his eyes shut. Something about her always made him laugh. Made him forget. Made him feel normal.

  Dear God he liked her. But in the light of day, he wasn’t sure starting a real relationship was a good idea. He had more dark days than light. True, being with her helped him forget Blake, but he wasn’t sure that was appropriate. And he did not want to hurt her.

  Yet it seemed so right.

  Determined not to think about it and to let nature take its course, he reached for the week’s accumulated mail and rifled through it. A shiny brochure slid through his fingers. The hospital’s annual Christmas plea.

  He pulled it out, curious not just because he was a director, but also because he wanted the hospital to get donations. A collage of pictures of the kids who’d been through the hospital for various reasons populated the cover page. He liked it. Simple but effective, it told the story of how the hospital saved lives. Many lives. Especially the lives of children.

  But when he saw the picture of Blake, a tiny photo tucked among all the others, his heart stopped.

  What the hell?

  Not only had they not gotten permission to use that photograph, but who would have been stupid enough to think he’d want his deceased son’s picture on a brochure?

  He grabbed his cell phone, hit speed dial for his assistant and waited two rings before David answered.

  “Who authorized Blake’s picture to be in the collage on the front of the hospital brochure?”

  “Blake’s picture is in that collage?” Horror rippled through David’s voice. “That has to be a mistake.”

  “Call hospital PR. Have the remaining brochures destroyed. And find out who gave them permission to use that picture.”

  “Absolutely.”

  Conversation ended, Ricky grabbed the brochure and tore it to shreds. Of all the damned stupid mistakes!

  He raked his fingers through his hair and reached for his phone again, only to realize he was about to call Eloise.

  Eloise.

  Why did he automatically want to call her? What would he say? That his son was dead? That some idiot screwed up and put Blake’s picture on a million brochures? That his heart was broken? That everything he’d felt while watching his son struggle for life had come storming back in living color?

  He squeezed his eyes shut as misery reminded him this was his life. This was what he had to offer Eloise. Sharp shards of pain that pierced his heart at unexpected moments of memory. Deep depressions that dragged him down so far he couldn’t speak some days.

  How foolish was it to believe she would want this? How selfish was it?

  He sucked in a breath, tossed the phone to the counter, grabbed his coffee and strode to his office.

  He considered calling her to tell her they wouldn’t be seeing each other anymore. No matter how much hurt he heard in her voice, he would endure it, simply because he knew a little sting now saved her real pain later. But he hadn’t fulfilled his end of their deal. He couldn’t stop seeing her until he found her a job.

  His resolve sharpened. He had to protect her. That meant he had to get her a job. Then he could tell her he’d changed his mind about going to the rest of his parties and wish her well with her future employer, and she would be out of his life.

  * * *

  When Ricky’s knock sounded on her door that night, Eloise drew in a deep breath. The night before he’d talked about his personal life, his son, and he’d kissed her. He liked her. No matter what feelings creepy Bruce instilled, she knew Ricky liked her. She wasn’t going to screw this up by being afraid or overeager. He needed time to trust her, and she would give him time. After all, they still had plenty of parties to attend, and she’d be dancing with a man who had kissed her like a guy falling. These next few weeks might be the happiest of her life.

  Her heart shivered with anticipation. She drew another breath, subdued the bright smile that might scare him silly, and opened the door.

  “Hey.”

  “Hey.”

  If the dull expression in his dark eyes wasn’t clue enough, his slow entry into her apartment told her he regretted kissing her. The urge to squeeze her eyes shut surged, but she stopped it, reminding herself he had a child with a woman who wasn’t exactly scrupulous. He hadn’t said much beyond the fact that he supported her at one time, but what if they’d had a disagreement and she’d taken his child away from him? What if she hadn’t just moved to another city or state? What if she’d disappeared? What if the tragedy in his life was that he had a little boy he adored but he couldn’t see him or be part of his life?

  She hadn’t seen any sign that a child had ever been in his apartment. No one at any of the parties ever asked him about his child, proving that was his sore spot. What worse could an unscrupulous mother do than take awa
y a beloved child from a doting father?

  If Eloise wanted him to open up to her, she had to prove herself to be trustworthy. She couldn’t overreact when he pulled back. She should respect it and show him he could trust her not to probe but to let him come around in his own time.

  “You look very nice.”

  He glanced down at his tux and black topcoat. “I look the same as I always do.”

  She laughed. “I know. You wear it well.”

  He sniffed a sound that was almost a chuckle—almost.

  Her heart picked up a bit. Rome was not built in a day. Neither was trust.

  She handed him her cape. He slid it on her shoulders. “You look nice tonight. But you always look nice, too.”

  “Thanks.” The soft pink dress she’d altered hadn’t been much of a task. The quietly elegant strapless gown hugged every curve and accented her pale skin, but it wasn’t fancy. She’d deliberately not gone flashy or fancy, but stuck with her own taste rather than fashion. Up to now, she’d worked to make herself look like the perfect sparkly date for a rich guy. Tonight, she wanted to be herself, to give him a taste of the real her.

  Which, now that she added it to everything else, was probably the smart thing to do. From here on out, she wasn’t Eloise Vaughn, fake date. She was the real Eloise Vaughn, the woman she wanted Ricky Langley to fall in love with.

  He opened the door and she walked out. “So how was your day?”

  He wouldn’t meet her gaze. “My day was very long.”

  “How so?”

  “Special project.”

  She stopped at the top of the steps, not really wanting to push, but seeing this as an opportunity they could connect as real people. “Yeah? Anything you can talk about?”

  “I’d prefer not to, but suffice to say I’m having trouble figuring out an angle for a problem I have to solve as soon as possible.”

  “You’re sure it’s nothing I can help you with?”