Guarding Christmas

by Jenny Schwartz

  Guarding Christmas

  Jenny Schwartz

  Four years ago, Gray rejected Yvie's love before she had a chance to offer it. He thought she was too young and he knew he was too reckless for the relationship to work. Now he's back and he has a plan to woo and win his Christmas angel. But Yvie has plans of her own—and risking her heart again isn't part of them.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter One

  “Well, shoot.” Hands on hips, head tilted back, Yvie frowned at the kitten atop the Christmas tree. The little ball of ginger and white fluff had knocked the angel askew and clung in its place, mewing defiance and fear.

  Beside Yvie, a woman in her early thirties scolded her young daughter for opening the kitten’s box. They’d just bought the kitten in the pet shop at the entrance to the mall. Now the daughter was on the verge of tears, about to add her cries to those of the kitten’s.

  Already, a crowd was gathering.

  “Here’s what we’ll do,” Yvie said, trying to live up to the uniform she wore. She was a security guard, temporarily. It was up to her to solve problems and keep people safe—including kittens. “Someone get me a chair.” She was tall and the tree wasn’t that much higher than her. If she stood on tiptoes on a chair…

  Large, gentle hands clamped her shoulders and moved her fractionally aside.

  She froze. Only one man had a touch like that—or rather, only one man had a touch that set her whole body on full alert. She inhaled cautiously. Over the artificial pine scent sprayed on the Christmas tree, she smelled the warm, male scent that was uniquely Gray Weldon’s.

  He stood half behind, half beside her as he stretched up. His hand was tanned, faintly scarred, the sleeve of his coat dragging back, showing the navy blue sweater beneath. He crowded her space, seeking another couple of inches to reach the kitten safely. She tried to shuffle away, but his arm wrapped around her waist, keeping her there, against him.

  “Come here, little guy. No, don’t scamper away.” His breath brushed her ear.

  She doubted the kitten heard the low words over the noise of the mall, but she did. The coaxing tone sent a shiver over her skin.

  “There we go.” Gray brought the kitten down safely and cradled it a moment.

  Her eyes followed the kitten and she turned unthinkingly in the circle of Gray’s arm. She looked up at his face and found him watching her, not the kitten.

  “Hello, Yvie.”

  “Thank you so much. Sophia, thank the nice man.”

  Yvie breathed a prayer of thanks for the interruption of the kitten’s owner.

  “Thank you, mister.”

  “You’re welcome.” Gray had to release Yvie to complete the complicated transfer of kitten into the box. He crouched easily, powerful muscles under complete control.

  She was accustomed to athletic men, so why did his every movement captivate her? Four years ago, he’d taught her that the captivation wasn’t mutual. She’d moved on.

  Speaking of which…she smiled a professional “move along” message to the crowd. The slight drama over, people recalled their purpose for being at the mall. With three days to Christmas, they couldn’t waste shopping time.

  The kitten was restored to its box and Gray straightened from his crouch.

  Yvie turned away and started for the security office. Yes, Gray was an old friend of her brother Paul, of all her brothers, but she and he weren’t friends. Not anymore.

  He fell in step with her in five strides.

  “Thanks for rescuing the kitten.”

  “No problem.”

  “Your good deed for the day. You’ll have great shopping karma for that.”

  Silence. Well, what did she expect? Gray had never done social chatter.

  But he’d talked to her, long discussions about everything and nothing, the state of the world, the best flavor of ice cream, her history studies.

  He’d seduced her with his interest and she hadn’t realized he’d just been filling in time. He’d been between ops, restless the way Paul got when he wasn’t actively working.

  “Can I buy you a coffee?”

  Her nerves jerked, but her body kept moving smoothly. She was proud that there wasn’t a hitch in her pace. “Thanks, but I’m a bit busy.” She indicated her uniform.

  The security firm was her dad’s. He’d started it ten years ago, retiring from the elite police squad he’d captained and going for a lower stress option. Lower stress, ha. He’d built the business into a multimillion dollar enterprise. But at least there was no threat of him being shot.

  “Your shift is over,” Gray said.

  She did stop then, and frowned at him. It was typical of him to know that sort of detail. Reconnaissance. Except she wasn’t an enemy target.

  “Unless you have plans?” He raised an eyebrow.

  “Coffee’ll keep me awake.” It was late afternoon. It was a fair excuse.

  “Hot chocolate. With marshmallows.”

  The smile in his blue eyes was unfair. She found herself smiling back and agreeing.

  “Good.” He followed her back to the office and waited for her to shed the bulky security belt.

  Of course he knew the operations manager Thaddeus, one of her dad’s buddies. Her dad and mom kept an open house and with a large family, they were always entertaining. They knew everyone, and by extension, so did she. Add in four protective older brothers and it was no wonder she’d never rebelled as a kid. It would be too embarrassing to be caught and returned home by a family friend.

  “I saw the kitten rescue,” Thaddeus said. “Teach you that in the army?”

  “Advanced training, special ops,” Gray said.

  Except it was no joke. He was in special ops, as was Paul.

  Yvie stowed away the belt and collected her coat and bag. The bright patchwork satchel mightn’t match her uniform, but she felt naked without it. It held her camera, purse, phone and a dozen other vital items. She thought of reaching for the lipstick, but that might mistakenly suggest she cared what Gray thought of her.

  The waitress brought two hot chocolates, with marshmallows for her and cream for Gray. Yvie picked up a spoon and poked at the pink and white blobs. Dunking them was a good excuse to avoid staring at him.

  He hadn’t changed. Same dark brown hair, angular face and blue eyes.

  Paul Newman eyes, her grandma had said once, and cast a shrewd glance at Yvie.

  He wasn’t handsome, but he was compelling.

  She sighed and put down the spoon. Time to be an adult, get this conversation over and done.

  “I heard you got your Masters,” he said. “Congratulations.”

  “Thanks.” Twenty five was young to have a Master’s Degree. She’d worked for it, though, channeling the same intensity that her brothers gave to their security work. “Did you also hear that I quit the university?”

  “Paul said something about it.”

  She sipped her hot chocolate. She could guess what else Paul had said. No one in the family approved of her decision to quit the university, to step off the academic treadmill. They didn’t approve and they didn’t understand. They all thought she’d wise up and go back. That’s why her dad had given her this temporary job as a security guard.

  Extra guards were always needed at Christmas—for the crowds and because desperate people were tempted to steal.

  She knew that as the boss’s daughter she’d been given an easy post, up near the children’s shops, away from where the teenagers hung out and where the bulk of thefts occurred. Not that anyone actually envied her the post. Nope. The o
ther guards were mostly men and they were glad to steer clear of crying kids, straying kids, distraught parents, and confused grandparents.

  She took another sip of hot chocolate, snaring a melting marshmallow. She deserved it.

  “Paul said you wanted to make your photography a full time job.”

  Between them on the table lay a small, plastic Christmas arrangement. It was green and red and frosted with white. Yvie suspected it was meant to be mistletoe around a candle, but the candle was as fake as Gray’s interest.

  Or maybe his interest was genuine?

  She curled her hands around the warmth of her cup. He probably was interested. All that time he’d spent talking to her, years ago. He undoubtedly saw her as a baby sister. It seemed all the guys did—or all the guys her brothers brought home. She knew other men found her interesting as a woman. Guys who were smart and funny, who she’d met at college and university. Unfortunately, they lacked the dynamism of the men she’d grown up with—men who served their country and community, who fought and protected and took charge without thinking.

  “Photography is my full time job,” she said firmly.

  His gaze flickered to her security guard uniform.

  She shrugged one shoulder. “A bit of extra money never hurt anyone.”

  She knew how lucky she was to be starting life without student loans. Her parents had paid for college and university. But she was on her own now, and although she’d budgeted carefully and knew she could afford her dream, innate caution had led her to take on the security job. Its temporary nature suited her plans. After Christmas, when the family had enjoyed the festivities, then she would tell them what she really intended. No point starting a fight before Christmas.

  Her family weren’t overly protective. They just had one standard for “the boys” who could risk their lives in Afghanistan or any other hellhole, and one for her. She had to stay safe.

  It was her own fault, and she accepted the blame. Until four years ago she’d let herself be protected from life. Gray had shown her the dangers of that fantasy world. In a way, her family should blame him for what she intended to do. In the shock of his rejection, she’d grown up. Each step she’d taken since then, had been a step toward independence.

  “You’ve always loved history,” he said.

  She recalled that other winter, four years past. Sam, her oldest brother, had been getting married. Family and friends were coming in from all over. They’d gone out to dinner, but she’d cried off, tired from all the work being a bridesmaid entailed. She’d curled up in front of the fireplace at her parents’ house and when Gray had knocked at the door, she’d let him in. They’d roasted chestnuts, Gray cutting the cross in them first with a knife drawn from an ankle sheath.

  She grinned now, unwillingly amused. How many other women would have so casually accepted his skill with a knife or the fact he carried one?

  In front of the fire, they’d talked about women’s history, how women from the past had written their stories not with words, but in how they furnished their houses, sewed their clothes, and laid out their gardens. No, be truthful. She’d talked and he’d listened. She’d been bubbling over with the pleasure of finally solving the puzzle that was her mom.

  Her mom had never had a job outside the home in all of Yvie’s life, but no one ever underestimated her mom’s intelligence, organizational ability or raw courage. She’d married a cop and accepted all four boys going into the services. She was the strong center of the family. That was what the house showed: her mom’s strength and how she coped with life.

  Yvie had gone on to write her Master’s thesis on domestic courage, on women during the Great Depression and the Second World War and how their belongings revealed their survival strategies.

  She shook off her memories, realizing by the lukewarm nature of her hot chocolate how long she’d been silent. “Sorry. Never mind my plans. How long are you back for? Will you be spending Christmas State-side?”

  “I’m back for good, Yvie. I’m out of the army and working for myself.”

  “You left the service?” Her mind stuttered. She didn’t believe it. It was part of who the man was: honor, duty, self-discipline.

  “You must know from Paul that the last op went wrong?”

  She nodded. Jim Farleigh, one of the team, had died. He’d been buried down in Florida, near his family. Two others were wounded. Gray, Paul had said, got them out.

  “I decided it was enough.” His mouth firmed into the stern line characteristic of him. He met her eyes directly. “I want a future.”

  Chapter Two

  Gray looked at the woman sitting across the table from him, her lips faintly rimmed in hot chocolate and her eyes wide with surprise, and knew himself for a coward. If he’d truly been of the no guts, no glory crowd, he’d have finish his sentence. “I want a future, Yvie—with you.” But she seemed shocked enough at his decision to leave the army, and he’d have had to be stupid to miss her earlier wariness. She hadn’t wanted to sit down with him, to talk and remember old times.

  He’d been a fool twice over at Sam’s wedding. And that didn’t count his willful blindness in the days, no months, preceding it. He’d gotten into the habit of dropping into the Harrisons’ house. His visits had seemed innocuous. He was friends with all the brothers and lots of guys wandered in and out of the house. The other guys, though, hadn’t spent hours chatting with Yvie. They hadn’t learned how her brown eyes lit with laughter or her wide mouth curled in a secret smile when she made a sly joke. She was smart and funny and…

  He’d told himself she was his friends’ sister, their baby sister. He was just being friendly. He’d never known the warmth of an extended family. He enjoyed the novelty.

  Meantime he reveled in the way Yvie’s eyes sought his in a crowd. How she smiled, for him.

  He lied to himself up until the day of Sam’s wedding. Then he’d seen Yvie in her bridesmaid’s gown, the golden color of a sunset. Curves normally hidden by her casual student’s uniform of comfy sweater and old jeans, were now on display for the world to see. Her hair, no longer confined to a braid, whisped around her face and hung down her back to her waist. At least it covered some of her bare back.

  His fingers tightened on the edge of the table. Four years later and he could remember the feel of her skin as they danced. She’d been sexy and pliable and—as the night vanished into shadows and slow music—he’d lost his head and danced her out of the room into a quiet alcove.

  “I can’t believe you’ve quit the army. Wow. That’s even more unlikely than me leaving the university. I thought it was your life.”

  Her comment brought him back to the here and now. “So did I.” The army had given him his first sense of belonging. It had found a way to use his computer hacking skills and the special forces training he’d pitted his body against. The army had given his life structure.

  But he wanted more. He wanted emotion and passion and Yvie.

  She looked at him over the ridiculous plastic Christmas arrangement on the table. “Are you okay?”

  And that was typical Yvie, cutting to the heart of the matter. Caring. That last op had been a nightmare.

  “Yeah. I’d been thinking of leaving for a while.” Thinking and planning. “I’ve set up as a consultant. I’ll be using my mad hacking skills to defend businesses rather than countries.”

  “Saving the world, one mouse-click at a time.” Her mouth curved at the old shared joke.

  “Something like that.” He realized he was fidgeting with his empty hot chocolate mug and pushed it aside. “Yvie—”

  “I’d better get going, let you carry on with your shopping.” She made a production of gathering up her bag, scarf and coat.

  “I’ll drive you home.”

  She froze, then finished tugging on her coat. “I’m fine.”

  “Thaddeus said you caught the bus here.”

  “That man! What is it with retired cops? Do they grow an extra set of eyes, on extendable stalks?
”

  He stood up, curious that she’d avoided answering him. “What’s wrong with your car?” His instinct for evasion flared into outright suspicion at Yvie’s swift, guilty look. “Did you have an accident?”

  “No.” A huff of exasperation. “I sold my car. Someone offered me a good price, and since I’ve been thinking of changing it anyway…I’ll get Dad or one of the boys to help me buy something new after Christmas.”

  “You should have kept the one you had. You could have worked out a trade-in deal.”

  “Well, I didn’t—and catching the bus is fine. Thanks for the hot chocolate. I’ll see you around.”

  His jaw tightened. He was out of line, telling Yvie what she should have done, but he still didn’t appreciate the brush off.

  The false cheeriness of the mall’s Christmas music grated on his ears and he hated the enclosed feeling of too many people. With a couple of steps, Yvie had put a granny with a shopping trolley between them. He skirted the obstacle and closed the distance between them. “I’m driving you home.”

  “You’re persistent.”

  She had no idea.

  “But I promise not to tell the boys you let me catch a bus by myself.” She mocked his concern.

  “This isn’t about your brothers. It’s about you and me.” A kid running past bumped Yvie. Gray steadied her automatically, then kept his hand on elbow. “Besides, my car has a heater.”

  “You tempter. Okay, a lift would be great.” But she pulled her arm away.

  I should have caught the bus. There was an intimacy about being shut away with a man in a car, and the cab of Gray’s new pick-up was smaller than the average car. She was aware of the flex of his thigh muscles as he changed gear, of his hand on the stick, so close to her knee.

  She would have caught the bus except she’d heard the determination in his voice. Whatever the reason, he hadn’t been willing to let it go.

  “So, do you have plans for Christmas?” It was a safe question. Impersonal.