Unwrapping Mr. Roth

by Holley Trent

  “Come in.” She wrapped her hands around Gillian’s and drew her into the sitting area. “I’m Eldora Roth. It’s a pleasure to have you here. I’ve been waiting to meet you—the one who can see through all our charms.”

  “Word carries fast around here, huh?” Gillian cut her gaze toward Nick.

  He busied himself at the sideboard where he poured himself a drink. It was early for it, probably, but he didn’t think anyone would blame him, given the past few…well, centuries he’d endured.

  “Agnes contacted me before she sent you back to speak with Nicholas,” Mother said. “At the restaurant, I mean.” Releasing Gillian’s hands, she fell gracefully onto a chaise and then indicated the settee behind Gillian.

  Gillian sat.

  “What did Agnes tell you?” Gillian asked.

  Mother narrowed her eyes and stared up at the ceiling for a moment. A creature as old as her often needed time to pull the right memories. “She said your gaze wasn’t tracking correctly and that you weren’t looking at her where you should have been. I think at first, she thought you just didn’t want to make eye contact, but then you seemed proof to the magic she spins that keeps people calm and patient.”

  “I was having a long day. I was cranky.”

  Mother shrugged. “The fact that you were out of sorts meant something was wrong. There’s a reason why worker elves always seem so happy. It’s because of people like Agnes.”

  “Handy trick. I could use her around my preschoolers.”

  Mother laughed. “Indeed, you could. I’m certain Nicholas has told you that he had to make himself available to meet with you. He needed to see for himself.”

  “I’m finding it hard to believe that people like me are so rare.”

  “Well, you are, dear. I wouldn’t go as far as to say one in a million, but I’m certain Nicholas sees it that way. There aren’t so many magic-proof people who could catch his gaze. He didn’t want to go look, and I had to convince him not to waste the opportunity.”

  Nick sighed and took a long sip of gin. Mother had always had a knack for touching on the exact points he would have her avoid.

  “And you’re quite young, aren’t you? You could bear children?”

  “Mother.” Nick set down his drink and glared at the ancient nymph.

  Mother was completely unaffected, though Gillian wasn’t. Her cheeks were cherry red and eyes wild.

  Mother folded her hands primly atop her lap. “I had to ask. They don’t age as we do, so it’s hard for me to discern.”

  Gillian locked her wide, dark gaze on Nick. “How old are you, Nick?”

  “It doesn’t matter, pet.”

  “I think it does.”

  “It really doesn’t,” Mother said. “As his mate, you’ll age as he does.”

  “I’m not his mate.”

  “Nicholas, you’ve been playing coy?” Mother wagged a finger at him. “Obfuscating isn’t like you.”

  Nick carried a drink in both hands and downed the first one before sitting next to Gillian. “I wasn’t being coy. I told her we would marry. I believe she thought I was being unduly forward.”

  “So you brought her here for me to do your dirty work?”

  “You have more finesse with these things, Mother. Speaking plainly gets me in trouble with her more often than not.”

  “Gods, Nicholas.” Mother groaned. “All right. Let’s sort it out.” She drummed her long, graceful fingers against the chair arms and clucked her tongue for a few seconds. “I suppose the easiest way to state this is that there is no king here without a queen. Nicholas must marry, but my daughters have made that difficult. Not only does he have to be married to take the throne, but he has to marry someone who’s not impacted by his magic.”

  “So, why not just marry an elf?” Gillian asked. “Or a nymph?”

  “That would have been too simple, especially given how easy it is for magic folk to marry. And Gillian, you don’t have to like him,” Mother said. “You’d just do it as a favor. Even if you are technically his mate.”

  That had certainly shocked the hell out of Nick, but it had been clear from the moment he first saw Gillian. She was The One. She had the glow that told elves whom they’d found—their matches. It’d only taken him seventeen hundred years. But that meant nothing if she didn’t see him as the same.

  “I’m sorry, but marriage isn’t a favor,” Gillian said. “People are supposed to love each other, and in the two days I’ve known him, I’ve barely tolerated him.”

  He ground his teeth. “I told you she wouldn’t do it, Mother. She’s too modern.”

  “Have some faith, Nicholas. She’s obviously a caring person. Our domain is only being threatened by three different factions because we’re without a king. And then there’s Kori and the girls locked down in that tiny suite for days on end. We’ll find another way to secure their safety so they can have a taste of freedom.”

  “Oh, that’s low,” Gillian said with a scoff.

  Mother shrugged. “I’ve had to learn to think creatively to solve problems, and I imagine you’ll do the same once you marry him.”

  “I don’t see myself agreeing to that. Sorry. No offense, or anything. I mean, your son is hot, even when he’s being all snarly. I’d date him once or twice if it weren’t for the whole I work for him thing, but we’re talking about commitment.”

  “We’re talking about a favor,” she said softly. “I wouldn’t ask if there was anyone else.”

  “There has to be someone else.”

  “Are you volunteering to find her?” Nick asked. “If so, I’ll assign you some guards and give you leave to do so.”

  And he’d reject whomever she brought back.

  “I don’t even know how I’d go about starting such a search. You’d be the better person to go look.”

  “I did. And I didn’t find anyone until I stopped looking.”

  “You mean me?”

  “Don’t sound so surprised, pet. You’ve got so many psychics and seers in your family tree that you can’t swing a cat without hitting one, and yet you’re stunned to find yourself in the favor of the elf king.” He looked to his mother. “I don’t understand humans. Do they not know their own history?”

  “I would imagine that that those old seers didn’t want their daughters kidnapped any more than our nymphs did. They certainly didn’t go around flaunting them.”

  Gillian’s cheeks—red before—had gone nearly as pale as Mother’s.

  Nick gave her hand a squeeze, and surprisingly, she didn’t pull away from him. Maybe she was too stunned, or perhaps she was starting to come around.

  He wouldn’t hold his breath that it was the latter.

  “A favor, Gillian,” Mother said softly. “Will you do it for Kori and the girls? It’s hardly a fate worse than death.”

  Gillian wrapped her fingers around a tendril of her hair and twirled. “It’s a hell of a favor.”

  “You could be queen.”

  “That wasn’t exactly an item on my bucket list.”

  Mother grinned. “Then at the very least, it’d make a good story for you to tell your friends.

  “Yeah, all two of them.” Gillian pulled her gaze away from Mother and looked to Nick. “The marriage is fully reversible, right?”

  “Yes, pet,” he said flatly. “Perfectly reversible.”

  Too bad for her, though, that she had to get him to agree.

  What elf would give up his true mate? A foolish one.

  Of all the things Nick was, foolish wasn’t anywhere on the list.

  CHAPTER SIX

  “This is fully reversible, right?” Gillian asked Nick yet again later that day in the Florida children’s group home they were visiting. She leaned over the back of his Santa chair and whispered, “If we get divorced, or whatever you elves do, you still get to keep the throne, right? Reassure me.”

  Their joining might have been the quickest ceremony ever—some repeated words and a walk around a chalk-drawn circle in El
dora’s chambers—but judging by the way the lights had suddenly brightened in the palace as soon as they were done, Gillian was guessing it was the real deal.

  That had scared the snot out of her. It’d taken her three shots of absinthe to calm down.

  “Yes, Gilly,” he said through clenched teeth. “It’s reversible, but not without some doing. We’re bound by magic. Frankly, I think you should just take advantage of the fringe benefits.”

  “Such as what?”

  “Your half of my bed, Mrs. Roth,” he muttered.

  Her sex gave a hell yes clench, but Gillian wasn’t going to be swayed by a body part ruled by hormones rather than logic. “I’m not changing my name. We don’t even have legal paperwork.”

  “Sure we do. Perhaps you should consult the records of your county courthouse.”

  She rolled her eyes. “You don’t pay me enough for this.”

  “As of today, I don’t pay you at all. Being on my payroll would be kind of inappropriate, don’t you think? Besides, what’s mine is yours and vice versa. You don’t need a paycheck.”

  “No way. You’re still gonna pay me, Santa. I’ve got bills.”

  “Your bills are mine, which means I made them go away.”

  She gaped. “You don’t have to do that. I’m used to paying my own way.”

  “It’s already done.”

  “What?”

  He rolled his eyes as the group home’s activities coordinator glanced over at the staging area.

  “Oh, God. What does she want now?” Gillian whispered.

  Obviously they were in accord in their impressions of the woman.

  Tricia giggled nervously, and turned away as if she’d changed her mind mid-route.

  “I think you scared her off with the way you questioned her last time,” Gillian said.

  Nick raised his shoulders in one of those graceful shrugs. “Inviting the tots’ parents was a bad idea. She had to know that.”

  “You’ve done a lot of these?”

  “Yes. They tend to be rather tense for the children. They’re less open than they would have been if their parents weren’t here. Many of them hope to go a holiday without seeing their parents. Too often, it’s the adults who decide what’s best for them, and those adults are often tone deaf about what the children need.”

  Huh. She was always so stunned by how intelligent he was. She wasn’t sure why she’d assumed he wasn’t. Maybe his prettiness confused her.

  “You like kids, huh?” she asked.

  “Of course I do. I wouldn’t have this job if I didn’t. Why does that surprise you?”

  She shrugged and busied herself with tidying up the stacks of gifts behind Nick’s chair. She wanted so badly to believe that Nick was a horrible person so she didn’t have to like him. Not liking him was becoming more and more difficult.

  She straightened up, smoothed the wrinkles from her skirt, and tried to put on a smile for Tricia as she approached again.

  Tricia’s smile was twitchy—suspicious.

  “Sooo, I’ve been talking to the social workers…” Tricia started.

  When she didn’t continue, Nick prompted, “And?”

  “And, yes, well… They seem to think perhaps we should hold onto the gifts until after the parents leave. There might be less confusion that way.” She chuckled again.

  “Why?” Gillian asked tartly.

  Nick cut his gaze up at her and raised one dark blond brow. “Oh, Mrs. Claus,” he said dryly, “you’re too sweet for your own good.”

  No one had ever accused Gillian of being naïve. Clearing her throat, she bent and whispered into his ear, “What exactly do you have in those gift boxes you think their parents would take?”

  “Doesn’t matter,” he whispered back. “People will sell anything if they’re desperate, even the stack of Roald Dahl books little Aaron over there is getting.” Nick canted his head in the direction of a brown-haired boy sitting alone near the anemic Christmas tree. “He has good taste in reading material, don’t you think? He’s probably worn out the library copies by now.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Gillian…”

  “Oh. You’re Santa.”

  “That’s right, pet.” He gave her cheek a caress and tucked one of her escaping girls into her bonnet.

  She leaned into the touch, and tried not to hate herself for it.

  Tricia poked her head into their little huddle. “So, will that be okay? If it’s all right, we’ll just make a big deal about the gifts being locked up until Christmas day. If you’d like, you can tell them what’s inside.”

  “Fine,” Nick said blandly.

  “Yay!”

  Tricia went away, and Nick rolled his eyes at her back.

  “You’re a mess, you know that?” Gillian whispered to him, freeing some hair that had been trapped inside his collar and smoothing it over his shoulders.

  “I’m quite aware,” he said, and squeezed her hand tenderly.

  The next couple of hours zipped past at a rapid clip. The kids were so amazed by the little secrets Nick shared about their gifts. Their eyes went wide and bright with surprise and their jaws dropped. Before they walked away, however, Nick reminded each one, “Remember, you can’t tell anyone what you’re getting, or your box will be empty on Christmas morning.”

  The kids thought it was magical, but Gillian suspected if anyone were capable of following through on that threat, it would be Nick.

  During the stream of kids up to the podium, Gillian didn’t have much to do but stand around observing the guests. She noticed that after Tricia had made her little announcement about the gifts, half of the parents in attendance grabbed their free turkeys and ducked out. About half the ones remaining were genuinely interested in their kids. The others were genuinely interested in the buffet table.

  She was starting to feel a little bit of Nick’s blue mood. She couldn’t wait to get back to her preschool kids in the morning. They’d be like a palate cleanser after dealing with the depressed adolescent elves.

  After Tricia thanked them profusely for their time and attempted to coordinate a date for the following year, Nick and Gillian packed up their props and started hustling toward the front door. It was past eight on the east coast, and she had to be up early the next morning to teach Zumba. Also, she had a huge pile of construction paper circles to cut out for preschool. They were going to make snowman ornaments.

  Nick looped an arm around her waist and pulled her close. “Would you like to get something to eat before I take you home?”

  If he didn’t start taking it easy on the cologne, she’d find herself prostrating to him on sight and waiting to be told to rise.

  “Eat?” she asked breathily.

  “Yes. We haven’t had dinner, and I know this little Cuban place. We could call it a date. Not that I know from personal experience, but I hear it goes with the whole being married thing.”

  Gillian’s brain seemed to sputter to a halt at that m-word.

  Married. They were married. She was married to the king of the freakin’ elves. Which made her the queen of the freakin’ elves.

  “Um…Nick, I—”

  “Hey, I hate to interrupt y’all,” the guy who Nick had been glowering at said. “I see you’re on the way out the door.”

  “Funny, you don’t look sorry,” Gillian muttered.

  He’d stepped right into their path, effectively blocking them unless they wanted to physically scoot him out of the way.

  “Merry Christmas. How can I help you?” Nick asked, sounding unconvincingly jolly, at least to Gillian. He had her wrist clamped inside his grip behind his back, so she may have been a bit biased in that assessment. He probably sounded perfectly festive to the guy who wasn’t resistant to glamour.

  The man shoved his hands into his sweatshirt pockets and looked Nick straight in the eyes. Gillian didn’t know how he could manage it. She could hardly do it, and she was married to the guy. Maybe it was because he was seeing the c
heerful guy with the red suit and not a pissed-off elf.

  “Y’all got any more gifts? I’ve got other kids at home, you see, and I ain’t worked since—”

  He froze there between one word and the next with his mouth open and a gesticulating hand raised.

  Nick unhanded Gillian and sighed as he straightened the bodice of her ugly dress. “He’s lying.”

  She looked down at his fingers smoothing her collar and refastening a button that must have come loose. She furrowed her brow. “Are you grooming me?”

  “It’s an elf compulsion.”

  “Fixing my buttons is an elf tic?”

  “No, pet. Purposeful touch. I imagine you’ll either get used to it or stop noticing I’m doing it.”

  She doubted that. Every time the man touched her she felt like there was a rocket ready to launch from her libido, but she didn’t want him to stop. He was so careful, and meticulous. And the way he looked at her while tending to those small needs was probably the sweetest thing she’d ever seen from a man she’d been involved with.

  But they weren’t involved. Couldn’t be. She was just a fill-in until after the holiday, and couldn’t get her hopes up for more than that. If she did, she’d be disappointed. She couldn’t let herself want him or what he offered. She wanted respect from earning it—not marrying into it.

  She grabbed his wrists, stilling his hands. “What’s with the frozen guy?”

  Nick pushed a swath of his hair behind one pointed ear and made a growly noise. “I stomped that guy into the ground last year. I’m surprised to see him.”

  “You kicked his ass? Why?”

  “See that little girl over there?” Nick pointed to a dark-skinned child who was wearing a sparkly sweater and a pair of jeans that were a smidge too short.

  “Yes?”

  “Before the court took her out of his home, he used to make her run his drugs.”

  “So, you cornered him in an alley and kicked his ass?”

  “Not quite, but I’ve done that before, too.” Nick entwined the fingers of his right hand through those of her left, led her around the frozen crook, and out the door. On the sidewalk he said, “I’ve got some cold-natured, humidity-craving elves who live around here. One of them kept seeing the little girl out and about when she was supposed to be in school. One day he followed her to see if she was well and, I imagine that you can guess what he saw.”