by Ann Nichols
In Luke’s thirty-one years of life, he had learned a few things. And one of them was when to push a person and when to back off, especially when the person was important to him. And somehow, Melissa Kincaid was important. He decided then and there that if friendship was all she wanted, then that was what he would accept.
She just broke up with her fiancé. No need to rush, he thought. Besides, friendship was a good place to start anyway. “By the way,” he said cordially, “I’m Luke Karalis.”
From the pucker in her bottom lip, he could tell she was trying to decide whether to trust the sudden change in his tone. He made his smile as bland as possible, kept his eyes as bright as a playful puppy’s, and waited.
When her wary look was replaced by a mischievous gleam, he knew that he had succeeded. “Yes, I know. Dr. Luke Karalis. . .‘the newest, and brightest star at the Medical Clinic of Ridgedale,’ ” she repeated her uncle’s pat introduction, and saw Luke cringe.
“Ah. . .yes. . .well,” he shrugged his shoulders and his lips twisted wryly. “What can I say?” He was taken aback by the mocking tone of her voice. Evidently, she was not impressed.
“Nothing really,” she replied, taking pity on him. “My uncle is a man who says and does exactly what he wants. It’s best just to roll with the punches and wait for it to pass.”
He shot her a questioning look. “Are you speaking from experience?”
She almost returned with a flippant answer. But something in his face, something sincere and benevolent and kind—something she hadn’t seen in anyone for a long time—stopped her. And with sudden insight, she realized that he was asking out of genuine interest. She swallowed the glib words that almost passed her lips and whispered the truth. “Yes.”
When his eyes darkened, not with passion, but with concern and respect, she was glad that she’d trusted her instincts. For the first time in a long time, Melissa felt as though she was free to say what she really believed, rather than glossing over her feelings as she had become accustomed. It was a heady feeling, and she looked for a diversion to regain her balance. Spying the packages beneath the tree, she knelt down and reached for one.
“They’re all empty,” Luke warned as she rose with a box. She shrugged an elegant shoulder and in the lighting of the tree Luke thought that her gown shimmered like wishes from a dream.
“They’ve been empty ever since I was twelve,” she murmured, fingering the exquisitely wrapped gift.
Luke sensed that her response was something more than an idle comment, and his curiosity got the better of him. “What happened when you were twelve?”
Melissa fidgeted with the velvet ribbon before lifting her face to look at him. “My parents died,” she responded simply.
Clicking his tongue against his cheek he answered, “That’s a tough thing for a twelve-year-old to deal with.”
“It’s a tough thing for a twenty-two-year-old to deal with too,” she said. It was something she hadn’t confessed to anyone, not even to Brian.
Luke glanced at the present in her hand before training his deep-set eyes back on her. “And it hurts more at Christmas than at any other time of the year.” It was a statement, not a question.
“You know?” she whispered, her brows coming together as she wondered how he understood so well.
“Holidays are not only the ‘most wonderful’ time of the year, but for many,” he paused, “the hardest.”
Tilting her head to the side in a way that was becoming familiar to Luke, she asked, “Are you speaking from medical knowledge or personal experience?”
Shrugging his shoulders and ignoring the chafing of his shirt collar against his neck, he admitted, “Both, I guess. I’ve never been close to my parents. They’ve always spent the holidays with friends skiing in Switzerland or sailing in the Caribbean, so I don’t really have any of those warm, Christmasy memories that everyone talks about. But I’ve also seen it in my medical practice. He paused and his lips pressed together in a grim line, which turned them a shade lighter in color. “Working in the emergency room of a big city hospital, you see the attempted suicides during the holidays.”
Melissa was amazed. He really did seem to understand. Something inside of her responded and without giving it more thought, she shared her feelings with him. It seemed the natural thing to do, but for Melissa Kincaid, it wasn’t natural at all. “My parents are only a hazy memory to me now, but I sometimes wonder how different my life might have been if they hadn’t died. You see,” her eyes were animated with the need to explain, “my father was my uncle’s younger brother. He was a doctor too, but he was a real man of healing, a man with a calling, not just—”
She stopped herself, suddenly remembering that she was talking to a colleague of her uncle’s. Feeling at once disloyal and uncomfortable, she tossed the empty package back under the tree. But when the golden strap of her vintage evening bag snagged on a branch, jarring loose a glass ball, she cringed in helplessness as the ornament tumbled down the branches toward the parquet floor.
With reflexes quick as a sword flash, Luke reached out and caught the ball. Gently cupping the delicate Christmas decoration in his hands, he softly replied, “I understand.”
“You do?” The words were out before she could catch them. She blushed, which only deepened her embarrassment.
Luke’s eyes narrowed as he considered how much to say. He could tell by her pink-tinged cheeks that she had become uneasy with the conversation. “I only have to work with your uncle. Not live with him,” he replied cautiously. He reached over and carefully reattached the blue ornament to the tree.
Luke saw the glaze settle over her eyes as she quickly reverted to the role he had watched her perform so artfully all evening. As if the curtain had suddenly gone up on Act Three, she switched from being a friend to being the accomplished social bee.
“Melissa?” He jumped over the rules of propriety by using her first name, but she didn’t seem to hear him. Her eyes flitted over his shoulder to scan the room as she said in her soft southern twang, “Yes, well, that’s the way it is sometimes.” Her veiled eyes rested on him only long enough for half of the sentence to be spoken. “It was nice to finally meet you, Dr. Karalis.” She held out her hand to shake his. “I hope that we see each other again.”
But Luke wasn’t about to let her get off that easily. Instead of gently clasping and releasing her hand as she intended, he held on to it. “I’m certain we will, Miss Kincaid,” he said firmly. “Your aunt has already invited me to dinner.”
Her eyes darted up to his. He had her attention again. He nodded and he shot her a quick, ironic smile. “It seems she wants me to meet her niece,” he explained. Melissa cringed, and to Luke’s relief she dropped the social pretense.
“I think it’s only fair that I warn you,” she gave a little laugh that was flavored with both embarrassment and chagrin, “my aunt and uncle are probably playing matchmaker. They won’t rest until I’m. . .well. . .er. . .married.” She slanted her head self-consciously at him. Something in his look gave her the impression that the possibility of a lasting relationship didn’t bother him in the least. She hurriedly explained her position. “But that’s the furthest thing from my mind. I still have university to complete and I’m not ready for such a commitment.” She stopped and shook her head in bewilderment. “I don’t remember ever talking so freely with anyone before.”
“Not even to the man you were to marry?” he said. She dropped his hand like a red-hot coal.
“My, doesn’t good news travels fast around here.” Her eyes narrowed and began to study the crowd over his right shoulder. “Or is that a bit of juicy gossip that my aunt fed you?”
Luke held his hands up, palms facing forward, and quickly said, “I’m sorry, Melissa. I was out of line. I’m truly sorry.”
Her eyes fluttered shut momentarily and she let out a long, weary breath. “I’ve heard enough ‘I’m sorrys’ tonight to last me a lifetime.”
Luke couldn’t help himse
lf. With a hint of a laugh in his voice, he said, “Well, I feel as though I should say ‘I’m sorry’ again, but that would only add to your misery.”
Her eyes flew open and she looked at him with amazement. How can he make light of this? Melissa was incredulous, but before she could formulate her next thought, Luke rambled on, trying to repair the damage.
“Maybe this will help,” he said quickly. “I wasn’t told about your engagement as gossip. In fact, it was said in passing by someone at the clinic who thinks you did the right thing.”
Melissa’s dark brows drew so close together that they almost formed a straight line across her forehead. “At the clinic? Who?” As far as she knew, hardly anyone sided with her, especially not at the clinic.
“Bond,” Luke said in a mock British accent. “Jane Bond.”
“Jane!” she exclaimed, and like a sentry lowering her guard, her facial muscles relaxed. “Dear Jane. She’s my only ally at the clinic. And, by the way, that is the worst British accent I have ever heard.” Melissa wrinkled her nose and laughed merrily. To Luke it sounded like chimes touched by the wind.
“Well, Melissa—do you mind if I call you Melissa?—if you will accept my apology, you can count me as another ally at the clinic. And please call me Luke.”
“Thank you, Luke. I will. To both,” she replied. Using his name for the first time made her feel suddenly warm. To hide her embarrassment, she scanned the room looking for her friend. “Do you know if Jane and her husband are here tonight?”
“Jane and Dale?” He had spoken to them for a few minutes when he first arrived, but hadn’t seen them since. “You know, they’re still newlyweds, and I kind of got the impression they had better things in mind for the evening,” he said.
The soft blush that touched Melissa’s cheeks made him feel weak in the knees. In that moment, he knew that he wanted more than anything in the world to be alone with this woman—away from the social charade and endless chatter of the Christmas party. He glanced at his watch. Eight-o-three. If they left right now they could get to the cabin by 9:30 at the latest. It was a crazy idea, but he blurted it out before he could change his mind.
“Hey, Melissa, let’s you and me get out of here too.”
She looked at him sharply, and her amber eyes darkened to a rich brown. “What?”
“Let’s leave,” he repeated. “I know the perfect spot and. . .”
Melissa shook her head and began to walk away. Luke placed his hand lightly on her shoulder to stop her. The effect of his touch on Melissa was electric. She turned to face him again, her eyes searching his for something sensible she could hold on to.
“Look, before you say another word, just hear me out, okay?” Luke said.
Melissa bit her lip and nodded. “Go ahead. I’m listening.”
“I know we’ve only just met,” Luke said gently, “and I know there are some complications with your aunt and uncle and all that. But one thing’s for certain: I want to get to know you and it isn’t going to happen here amidst all this bedlam. I have a cabin up at Lake Breeze, and we could be there in about an hour. I promise to be a complete gentleman, and I will have you home safe and sound before the sun comes up. Guaranteed.”
Melissa’s head was spinning. “You have a cabin. . . ?” she said in disbelief. This is not happening, Melissa. You must be dreaming. Pinch yourself and wake up. She shook her head and looked down at the floor. “Yes, but—” she surfed around for words, “I can’t just leave with you, I’d be the talk of the town.”
“Don’t take this wrong,” Luke said tentatively, “but from what you said earlier, everyone is already talking. I don’t want that to keep us from seeing each other.”
Unsure of how to respond, Melissa turned away from him and glided over to the picture window.
Luke followed.
And as she stood and watched the big, fat, feathery flakes of snow falling outside, she admitted to herself that he was right. She was already the talk of the town. What difference would it make if she left the party with him? It came as a surprise to her to realize that she really wanted to go. In her mind, she pictured a cozy cabin in the woods, with a cheery fire burning and a cup of hot chocolate in her hands.
Just then she became aware that Luke was speaking to her again. His voice was soft in her left ear, “. . .dry wood waiting to be burned, a huge picture window looking out over the lake and the surrounding hills, and snow tires on my Jeep to get us there.”
“What about hot chocolate?” she said.
“I make mine with whole milk, so it’s good and rich,” he replied. “None of that watery instant stuff.” He looked at her and smiled. “So whatta ya say? Are you ready to ditch your social connections?”
Luke waited, hardly daring to take a breath. He didn’t analyze why it was so important for her to come with him, but somehow it was. He’d felt this way only once before—years earlier when he’d been waiting to see if he’d made it into medical school.
He watched Melissa’s face as a small quiver at the corner of her mouth turned into a wide grin. “This is absolutely crazy,” she said, “and I have no idea what to tell my aunt and uncle—but yes, I’d love to go with you.”
Luke exhaled and Melissa laughed at his obvious relief. “I’ll tell you what,” he said. “If you don’t mind getting our coats, I’ll take care of Uncle Bob for you and meet you at the cloakroom.” He handed her his claim check and strode purposefully across the ballroom. Melissa watched him go and shook her head in amazement. She had been accustomed to having Brian take control of situations, but it had always been for his own benefit, never for hers.
A few moments later, Luke reappeared, smiling. He gave her the thumbs-up sign, helped her on with her coat, and without another word guided her toward the door.
When they were settled in the car, a sudden, worried thought popped into Melissa’s mind. She turned toward Luke with an anxious expression on her face. “Luke, I don’t want you to get the wrong impression. I don’t normally become close to people so quickly and I don’t. . .” She faltered. “I mean, I just want us to be friends. Nothing more. I need a friend. I—”
“Melissa,” he placed his finger against her lips, stopping her. He felt the softness and warmth of her breath but immediately pushed the thought aside. She trusted him and that was more important than anything else at the moment. “I don’t have the wrong impression, and I meant what I said before. We can go to the cabin and we can talk. We can get to know each other and then we can see what happens.” He immediately regretted his last words when he saw Melissa’s face darken.
“It will be a long time before I want anything more,” she warned. “I just want to be honest about that—from the start.”
Luke nodded. He understood that the wounds from her broken engagement were still fresh. She needed some time to heal. But he doubted that she would feel that way for long. He hoped not, anyway, because he was beginning to realize that he wanted more of a relationship with her.
A whole lot more.
Four
Luke and Melissa made three stops on their way to the cabin. The first was at the Kincaid’s house, where Melissa changed into warm wool slacks; a soft, holiday-red cashmere sweater; and a down-filled parka. At their second stop—Luke’s apartment—he gladly exchanged his itchy tuxedo for a vivid green plaid flannel shirt, thick cords, a down vest, and his ancient sheepskin jacket.
When the two of them were back in the car and headed toward the highway out of town, Melissa’s curiosity got the better of her. “So what did you say to Uncle Bob, anyway?” she asked. “I assume everything was okay?”
“I just told him I was taking you out for hot chocolate and we’d be home later,” Luke said with a mischievous grin. “Judging by the way he looked, I’d say he’ll probably be sleeping in tomorrow morning. I’ll have you home in plenty of time.”
Melissa was looking at Luke and she startled when he suddenly turned the Jeep in at a Christmas tree lot. “I hope you know how
to put up a tree,” he said, his cypress green eyes shining with a youthful happiness that Melissa hadn’t seen before. “I’ve never done it before.”
Melissa’s chin dropped. “You’ve never had a Christmas tree!”
Luke laughed, and qualified his statement. “Of course I have.” He paused, remembering the elaborately trimmed trees in his parents’ home, decked in crystal and gold, satin and silver, designed and assembled by professional home decorators every December 15. “What I mean is, I’ve never helped to trim one.”
She searched his face with her eyes. He had told her that he didn’t have any warm holiday memories, but never to have decorated a Christmas tree sounded almost criminal. “But. . . that’s one of the best parts of Christmas!” she exclaimed.
He looked around the tree lot and laughed. “I’m beginning to think so!”
With the kind of excitement normally reserved for children, they selected a Scotch pine—a little bit taller than Luke’s six feet, two inches—and three boxes of shiny glass balls that the tree lot proprietor had for sale.
“Not much variety on the ornaments,” Luke said, “but not bad for short notice.”
When Luke had secured the tree to the luggage rack on top of the Jeep, he and Melissa climbed back in the car and headed for Lake Breeze. Along the way, Luke talked about his childhood and how he’d wanted to grow up to be a doctor.
Before Melissa knew it, Luke turned the car into a narrow gravel driveway that ran for a quarter mile through the woods before opening up to a turnaround in front of a rustic cabin. Its wooden walls were shrouded in a pure white blanket of snow, making it look like an enchanting holiday house made of gingerbread. Melissa took one look and was breathless. The moon peeking down through a break in the clouds sparkled on the snow-covered roof. Behind the cabin, Lake Breeze was a dark, shimmering jewel. “Oh, this is even better than I imagined,” she said with delight.
Inside, the wood-paneled walls smelled of cedar and the stone fireplace was already set with kindling and a dry oak log. In minutes, the crackling warmth of the flames began to chase the chill from the room. The Christmas tree turned out to be crooked, but Melissa and Luke didn’t care. They agreed it was the most beautiful one they had ever seen.