Santa's on His Way

by Lisa Jackson

  “Fair enough.” She was bluffing. And scared. Of what? Him? He didn’t think so.

  “But for right now, we’re not going to wake her up—she had a bad night.” Annie hitched her chin toward the barn. “I’ve got to feed the horses. You can help.”

  “Can I?” He couldn’t help baiting her.

  “Yep.” She didn’t waste a second, but stepped off the porch and started breaking a trail in the knee-deep powder. The dog galloped in senseless circles before bounding up the ramp that led to a wide door on rollers. With all of her strength, Annie pushed. The thing didn’t budge. Liam placed his hands above hers on the edge of the door. His body covered her as he put his weight into moving a door that was frozen closed.

  “Great,” she muttered and was close enough that the coffee on her breath tickled his nose, the back of her jacket rubbed up against the buttons of his, and her rump pressed against his upper thighs. Through the denim of his jeans he felt her heat and his damned cock responded, stiffening beneath his fly.

  “It’ll give.” He ignored the scent of her perfume and the way his body was reacting to the proximity of hers. Again he threw his weight into the task and the ice gave way, rusty rollers screaming in protest, ice shattering as the door sped on its track. Annie tumbled forward and Liam’s arms surrounded her, catching her before she slipped on the icy ramp.

  “Whoa, darlin’,” he said, surprised that an endearment had leapt so naturally to his lips.

  “I’m . . . I’m okay.” She twisted in his arms and her face was only inches from his, so near that he could see the sunlight playing in her eyes. His gut tightened and his mind spun to a future that would never exist, a time when she would be lying naked in his arms, bedsheets twined through her legs, moonlight playing upon her bare breasts. At the thought, his mouth was suddenly dry as a desert wind and he cleared his throat. Slowly, making sure she had her footing, he released her. Her gaze shifted to his lips for a second before she stepped into the musty interior of the barn and he followed with an erection that pressed hard against his jeans. Silently he cursed himself. Hadn’t he spent the night convincing himself that Annie McFarlane was off-limits?

  A soft nicker floated on air that smelled of dry hay, leather, and horse dung.

  “Think I forgot you?” she said as she popped off the lid of a barrel of oats and, using an old coffee can, scooped up the grain that she poured into the mangers of three horses. Liquid eyes appraised him and large nostrils blew into the air as the animals buried their muzzles into the feed.

  Annie reached into the pocket of her coat and, walking to a stack of hay bales piled into the corner, pulled out a small jackknife, opened the blade, and sliced the twine holding the first bale together. She glanced over to Liam. “You can make yourself useful by tossing down a few more of these from the hayloft.” She went to work on the second bale and he climbed up a metal ladder. Within minutes he’d dropped twelve bales and stacked them next to the dwindling pile near the stalls. Annie forked hay into the mangers and when he attempted to take the pitchfork from her hands to do the job, he was rewarded with a look that would melt steel. “I can handle this,” she said.

  “I just thought that—”

  “That I was a female and since you were here you’d take over and give me a break. Thanks but no thanks. If you want to help out, grab a bucket and get them fresh water.” She bit the edge of her lip. “You’ll have to go back to the house, though, and use the faucets in the kitchen. I drained all the outside pipes just before the storm hit. Just be careful and don’t wake—”

  “—The baby. Yeah, I know.” He grabbed a pail from a nail on the wall and trudged back to the cabin. He’d never met so prickly a woman and yet she was trusting him to be alone with his child.

  He checked the makeshift bassinet as the bucket was filling and couldn’t help but smile. The baby was indeed cutting a few z’s. Barely moving, a blanket tucked all the way to her chin, Carol was lying there with such pure innocence that the little lump of flesh grabbed hold of Liam. How could something so perfect, so beautiful, have been conceived by an act of cold passion and grown in a womb devoid of love?

  Despite Annie’s warning, he pulled one of his gloves off with his teeth and touched a golden curl with the tip of his finger. The baby sighed quietly and in that barest meeting of callouses and perfect, baby-soft skin he felt a connection that wrapped around the darkest reaches of his heart and tied in a knot that could never be undone. Somehow, some way, no matter what, he would take care of this child.

  With more effort than he would have imagined, he turned his thoughts to filling the pail over and over again until each animal had water enough for the day and the trail in the snow between the barn and the cabin was packed solidly.

  Annie hung up the pitchfork and rubbed each velvet-soft nose as the animals ate, mashing their teeth together loudly and snorting.

  “These belong to you?” he asked as she threw a winter blanket over the bay’s back.

  “No. I just care for them. They come with the house and grounds. This guy is Hoss, then there’s Little Joe,” she said, pointing to a dapple gray, “and Adam, there, the sorrel gelding.” At the mention of his name, Adam’s ears flattened. “All named after characters on ‘Bonanza.”’

  “I got the connection.”

  “Yeah, great guys, but they could use a little exercise.” With a glance to the window, she frowned. “I usually walk them later in the day, but they’ll have to wait for anything more substantial, at least for a few more days.” Her eyes found Liam’s. “Like we all have to.”

  “I might be able to get the Jeep out today.”

  She swallowed hard. “And what then?”

  “I find Nola.”

  “Just like that?” she asked skeptically as she snapped her fingers.

  “It might take a little time, but I’ll catch up with her.”

  “You make it sound like she’s running from you.”

  “She is. She just doesn’t realize how futile it is.” He said it with a determination that made her shudder, as if he were stating an obvious fact.

  Nervously, Annie rubbed the blaze running down Little Joe’s nose, then wiped her hands on the front of her jeans before leaving the stall. Liam shouldn’t be here. He was too male, too intense, too close. Emotions, conflicting and worrisome, battled within her. She was attracted to him, there was no doubt about it, but he was here for one reason and one reason only—his child. “I—I’d better check on the baby.”

  “She’s fine.”

  “I’ll see for myself—”

  He grabbed her arm so quickly she gasped. Even through the denim of her jacket and sweater beneath, she felt the iron grip of his fingers, the hard strength of the man. “Be careful,” he said through lips that barely moved.

  “Of what? You?”

  “Of getting too attached to the baby.”

  “Too late.” Tossing her hair over her shoulders, she glared up at him. “I’m already attached to that little girl and you may as well know that you can’t bully her away from me.”

  “She’s not yours—”

  “Or yours.” She tried to pull away, to keep her distance from him, but he drew her closer to his body, close enough that she noticed the pores of his skin and the red-blond glimmer that gilded a jaw set in silent fury. “She’s mine, all right.”

  Oh, God, was that her heart beating so furiously? His gaze dropped to her throat and she sensed her pulse quicken. She licked her lips, tried to back away and was suddenly lost as his lips found hers. She was trapped, her breath caught somewhere in her lungs, her knees turning weak as his arms surrounded her. She tried to protest, to tell him to go to hell, to back away and slap him hard across the jaw but instead she opened her mouth willingly, invitingly.

  It had been so long, so damned long since a man had held her, kissed her, caused her blood to race.

  But this is wrong. And dangerous. This is O’Shaughnessy. He only wants you so he can get close to the baby.
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  She wouldn’t listen to that awful, nagging voice. No, right now, she just wanted to be held. While the world was snowbound and frigid, she was warm here in Liam’s arms. She felt his tongue touch the tip of hers. A hot shiver of desire, wanton and needy, skittered down her spine. With a moan she sagged against him and his kiss deepened, his tongue searching and exploring, causing the world to spin.

  He’s only doing this to get close to Carol, to find Nola, to further his own interests. Wake up, Annie. He doesn’t care one iota about you. He’s using you.

  “No!” She dragged her head from his, ignoring the desire still singing through her veins. Breathing unevenly, she stepped back. “I mean, I can’t . . . I won’t . . . Oh, for the love of . . . just . . . just leave, would you?”

  “That’s what you want?” His lips tugged into a cynical, amused smile that sent her temper into the stratosphere.

  “Yes. Just go!”

  His teeth flashed white against his skin in a cynical I-don’t-believe-you-for-a-second grin and it was all she could do not to slap him. “As I said, I—I’d better check on Carol.” She tore out of the barn, gulped big lungfuls of crisp winter air, and hurried along the broken path to the cabin. Riley, barking madly at a startled winter bird, sprinted ahead of her.

  She kicked off her boots on the porch and threw open the door. “How could you?” she muttered, berating herself as she saw her reflection in the iced-over windows. “I thought you were a smart woman.” She pulled off her gloves, threw them on the back of her couch, ripped off her jacket, and closed her eyes. “Fool. Damned silly fool of a female!” What was she thinking, kissing O’Shaughnessy? No, wanting to kiss him, to touch him, to feel his body lying on top of hers . . . “Oh, for the love of Mike. Stop it!”

  Thunk! The door banged open. A frozen blast of wind swept into the room, causing the fire to spark and the curtains to flutter as Liam stepped inside, his boots dripping on an old braided rug.

  “You don’t take a hint very well, do you?” she accused as he latched the door and they were again alone, away from the world, one man, one woman, and a sleeping infant. Her heart skipped a beat.

  “You weren’t serious.” His eyes, blue as an August sky, held hers.

  She cleared her throat and prayed her voice would remain steady. “About you leaving?” Why did she feel he could read her mind? “Believe me, O’Shaughnessy, I’ve never been more serious in my life.” She turned toward a mirror mounted near the kitchen door and grabbed a rubber band from her pocket with one hand while scraping her hair away from her face with the other. With a flip of her wrist she snapped the ponytail into place. “I think it would be best for all of us if you just opened the door and took off.”

  “Liar.” He was across the room in an instant, standing behind her, strong arms wrapping firmly around her torso, splayed fingers against the underside of her breasts. “You don’t want me to leave.”

  “You arrogant, self-serving, son of a . . . oooh.”

  His lips brushed against her nape. Warm and seductive, his breath wafted across her skin.

  A nest of butterflies, long dormant, exploded in her stomach as his tongue traced the curve of her neck. “Don’t lie to me, Annie. You want me as much as I want you.”

  Oh, Lord, he knew. Her body trembled at his touch and she hated herself for the weakness. Slowly he turned her into his embrace and as she stared into his eyes, he kissed her, long and hard, and with a desperation that cried out for more. She shouldn’t do this, shouldn’t let her body rule her mind, and yet as he sighed into her open mouth, she wrapped her arms around his neck, closed her eyes, and didn’t argue as his hands found the hem of her sweater and his fingers skimmed the skin of her abdomen with feather-light touches that caused her breasts to ache and her mind to play with images of making love all night long.

  “I—I can’t,” she said as his fingers traced her nipple through the silky fabric of her bra.

  “Can’t what?” he said, kissing the side of her neck and bending farther down as his hands caressed her breast.

  I can’t love you! her mind screamed, but she swallowed back the ridiculous words. “Do—do this—oooh.”

  He unhooked her bra deftly and scooped both her breasts into his palms.

  “Liam, please—” she whispered, but her protest went unheeded and she closed her eyes against the wave of desire that rippled through her. Without hurry he kissed the flat of her abdomen, then moved ever upward, his tongue and lips and teeth touching her so intimately she thought she might die. “Liam,” she whispered as he found her breast and began to suckle. Wet and warm, his mouth seemed to envelop her and all thoughts of stopping him vanished. Together they fell upon the worn couch and he pulled her sweater over her head before tossing away her bra and kissing her again.

  “Sweet, sweet Annie. God, you’re beautiful.” He stared at her breasts for a heartbeat, touched them lightly, watched in fascination as her nipples tightened, then resumed his ministrations.

  Desire pulsed through her blood, throbbing deep in her center, creating a core of desire that played games with her mind. The fire crackled and cast the room in a golden glow that vied with the sunlight slanting through icy windows as Liam kissed her.

  Annie trembled and held him close, her fingers running through the thick, coarse strands of his hair, her body aching for more of his touch. This is wrong, Annie. So wrong. Remember, he’s only using you. That horrid voice—her reason—nagged at her. And there’s pregnancy—you can’t risk it. Or disease. What do you know of this man? What, really?

  His fingers dipped below the waistband of her jeans and a series of pops followed as the snaps of her fly gave way easily. The lace of her panties was a thin barrier to the heat of his hands and as he traced the V of her legs with his fingers, she began to move to a gentle rhythm that controlled her body and mind.

  He nudged her legs apart with deft fingers and pushed her panties to one side. Gently he touched her, slowly prodding and retracting, just grazing that sensitive bud that palpitated with need. She cried out as he plunged ever deeper and her thoughts spun wildly in a whirlpool of desperate need that swirled ever faster . . .

  She clung to him as he kissed her. Sweat broke out across her forehead and along her spine. She wanted more—all of him, to feel his body joined to hers. But she could only take what he was giving, that special touch that made her feel she was drowning in a pool of pleasure, gasping and panting and unable to breathe, yet still fighting him, knowing in her heart that this was wrong.

  “Come on, Annie,” he whispered against her ear. “Let go.”

  “I—I can’t. Oh . . . oh, God.”

  “Sure you can, baby. Trust me.”

  With all of her heart she wanted to. Tears sprang to her eyes and yet desire reigned as he traced the tracks of her tears with his tongue while never letting up, his fingers continuing to work their own special magic.

  He kissed her breast again and something deep inside of her gave way.

  “That’s it, girl.”

  Hotter and hotter, faster and faster she moved. A small moan escaped her. His lips found hers. His tongue delved deep into her mouth. He touched that perfect spot and she convulsed. With a soul-jarring jolt, her resistance shattered. Her body jerked. Once. Twice. Three times.

  She heard a throaty, desperate cry and realized it was her own voice.

  “For the love of God,” she said, staring into his enigmatic eyes. Never had she felt so sated. Never had she been so pleasured. And never had she been so embarrassed.

  Who was this man? Why had she let him touch her, kiss her, feel her most intimate regions?

  As swift as a bolt of lightning, the reality of what she’d done shot through her. “Oh, no.” She pushed him away, scrambled into her clothes, and with her face blushing a hot denial of her own wanton deeds, she climbed to her feet. “Look, this was wrong. All wrong.”

  “You don’t believe that.”

  “Yes, yes, I do. And I just can’t have sex
with you. What about . . . about condoms and—”

  “I’ve been tested,” he said, climbing to his feet.

  “But, I could get pregnant and . . . listen, the reason Nola left the baby with me is that I can’t have children, can’t seem to carry them to term and—”

  He folded her into his arms and she let the tears run from her eyes. All this emotion. What could she do about him? For God’s sake, she was falling in love with him. She let out a broken sob and the strength of his arms seeped into her bones. Sniffing, she pushed him away. “You . . . you have to leave.”

  “Annie, don’t—”

  “I mean it.” She yanked the band from her hair and swiped at her eyes. Chin thrust forward defiantly, she added, “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

  “You weren’t.” He was standing near the window, sunlight casting his body in relief. Good Lord, he was big. And strong. And powerful. And dangerous. Don’t forget dangerous, Annie. He just wants Carol and information about Nola.

  “Listen, O’Shaughnessy, you’ve got to go, to leave me alone—”

  “So we’re back to calling me O’Shaughnessy.”

  “Yes. No. Oh, I don’t know.” She shook her head, trying to clear the passion-induced cobwebs from her mind. “I just know that you’ve got to leave. Go do what it is you have to do. Find Nola, figure out this . . . break-in at the company—burglary, embezzlement, or what- ever it is and find out about Carol, if she really is yours.”

  “Is there any doubt?”

  Annie glanced at the infant. Golden hair, crystal-blue eyes, arched eyebrows, cheeks as rosy as her father’s. She swallowed hard. No, Liam was right. There wasn’t a whole lot of question as to the baby’s paternity.

  “I’ll take her in for a blood test as soon as I can get to the hospital. With DNA and all, it should be pretty easy to figure out.”

  “A snap.” He reached for his jacket and shoved one arm down a sleeve. “I’ll be back,” he promised.

  She didn’t doubt it for a minute, but she had no idea what to do about it. She glanced at the phone. If she had any brains at all, she’d call the police. Biting her lower lip, she heard the sound of his Jeep’s engine roar to life, then the crunch and slide of tires as the vehicle tried to find traction.