Evernight Publishing
www.evernightpublishing.com
Copyright© 2012 Melissa Hosack
ISBN: 978-1-77130-227-2
Cover Artist: Sour Cherry Designs
Editor: JS Cook
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.
This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
DEDICATION
I would like to dedicate Saving Santa to my readers. Thank you for all of the support shown to me. You guys are the best!
SAVING SANTA
Melissa Hosack
Copyright © 2012
Prologue
I’ve always been a big fan of the Christmas season. As a child, I would stomp through the snow-covered woods near our home to pick out the perfect tree with my father. The two of us would then drag it home where my mother and sister were waiting with warm eggnog, another holiday favorite. Every year, I wrote a letter to Santa, believing in my heart that he would read it with care.
As an adult, my love of the holiday hasn’t diminished. I now live in a big city, so I’ve traded in the fresh pine for a fake tree equipped with built-in twinkly lights. Nowadays, I spike my eggnog, too. I still write that letter to Santa, but I no longer mail it to the North Pole.
With all my gusto for the holidays, nothing prepared me for the couple that stood expectantly outside my apartment door. I’d just finished lugging my tree up from storage when I heard the persistent knock. Dropping the awkward box, I threw open the door with a cheery smile. “Hell…o…” I trailed off in surprise.
In the hallway were a man and woman, both no taller than four feet. They were dressed in attire that would have fit right in with the Christmas setup at the mall. They wore green and red elf costumes made of a fine looking velvet, their outfits completed by little bells on the tips of their shoes and hats.
“Cara Faulk?” the woman inquired in a squeaky yet angelic voice. On my stunned nod, she continued, “I’m Emma. This is Bernie.” When the man didn’t respond, Emma elbowed him in the ribs, finally producing a cordial nod. “We’re…” She glanced at Bernie before turning back to me with a winning smile. “We’re here to congratulate you on your sweepstakes winning! You’re in for a real treat. You’ve won an all-expense paid vacation for the weeks leading up to Christmas.”
“I didn’t enter any sweepstakes,” I said with confusion, looking between the pair.
“Your co-workers entered you,” Emma jumped in quickly. Bernie only nodded his head in silent agreement as Emma added, “They will be so happy to hear you’ve won.”
“Co-workers?” I asked in astonishment. I pictured the two other employees of the small office firm I worked for. Bertha was going through menopause and hated everyone in sight. Markus was too wrapped up in his online RPGs to notice anything other than dragons and orcs. The idea of either of them giving me a thought was hard to imagine.
“Don’t ask so many questions,” Emma said, her high voice sharp with reprimand. “You’re about to embark on the greatest adventure of your life.” Taking my hand, the little brunette stepped into my apartment. “Here. Let me help you pack your bags. Your flight leaves in three hours. There’s no time to lose.”
Dumbfounded, I let a complete stranger lead me through my own apartment to pack for a vacation I was positive I hadn’t been entered for.
Chapter One
It’s hard to feel sane when riding in a private jet that looked like Christmas had just vomited inside of it while at the same time listening to an elf tell you Santa was in dire need of a seducing. “Let me get this straight,” I said slowly. “My fabulous vacation is to the North Pole, where you want me to seduce Santa Claus?”
“Not seduce,” Emma said with horror. “Nothing so extreme. We just want you to marry Santa, that’s all. There’s always supposed to be a Mrs. Claus, you see. A single Santa brings down the Christmas spirit.”
I looked to Bernie for his opinion.
The taciturn elf merely shrugged.
Turning back to Emma, I slowly repeated what she’d spent the last hour explaining to me. “What you’re telling me is that Santa is real. You’re one of his elves. He’s in desperate need of a wife, and you think I’d do a good job?” As she nodded, I asked, “What happened to the last Mrs. Claus?”
“That would be Sasha. She’s the current Santa’s mother.”
“Mother?” I asked, arching my brows in surprise.
Emma gave a huff of impatience. “Yes, his mother,” she confirmed as if it was the simplest concept. “Sasha and her husband Nick served as the Clauses for their sixty year term. The job was then passed down to their son, Chris.” The little elf wrung her hands together nervously as she continued, “Chris has been serving as Santa for four years now and still hasn’t chosen a Mrs. Claus. His parents are starting to get very worried.”
I leaned forward to look out the window as we approached a large structure with tiny buildings dotting the landscape around it. It was already dusk, so the Christmas lights that dominated the surrounding pine trees lit the snow to give the place a magical look. “Aren’t I a little young to be the bride of Santa Claus? You said his father served sixty years. How old does that make Chris? Beautiful airport by the way,” I added as an afterthought.
“The Claus family is immortal,” Emma explained. “They will forever be young and vibrant. And that is no airport. It’s the Claus family estate.”
I ogled the massive structure that by all rights could have been an entire airport…with a roomy hotel. “Cripes. They must be loaded.” I frowned as her young and vibrant description sunk in. “I thought Santa was fat and jolly.”
Bernie rolled his eyes, and I swear I heard him grumble, “Humans.”
Emma chose not to answer. Instead, she pressed her face against the jet’s window so she could admire the scenery as we angled for landing. “He’s just going to love you. I know it.”
“What if I don’t like him?” I asked gently, reminding her it took two to fall in love and raise a stable of reindeer.
Emma waved this off. “Everyone loves Santa.”
* * *
Despite my reluctance to be the next Mrs. Claus, I was wrapped up in the pure beauty of the North Pole. The stars shone above in a way I never got to see in the city. The snow seemed to twinkle like diamonds as it reflected the moonlight. I think the silence might have been the best part. There were no blaring car horns, no pollution. It was crisp and clean.
Emma dragged me forward, her hand looking tiny in mine. “We’ll show you to your room first. Then you’ll be expected to join Chris for dinner. Oh, he’s going to be so delighted.”
As she pulled me toward a large, ornately carved wooden door, I caught my reflection in its window. My cheeks were rosy from the cold air, and snowflakes decorated my dark tresses. My white snowsuit was the final piece that let me know I was truly in a winter wonderland.
“I’m kind of nervous about this whole dinner thing,” I admitted hesitantly. “This is like blind dating for extremists. Last fall, I went to the pound looking for a dog, but couldn’t find one that could convince me to commit. If I can’t commit to a puppy, there’s no way I’m going to commit to a Santa. It’s just not going to happen.”
As I walked further into the room, I gave a squeal of surprised delight as I realized we were trekking through a workshop. Elves sa
t at long tables, busily crafting toys and painting make-up onto porcelain dolls. They all fell silent as I passed, their eyes lifting from their work as they examined me.
“Holy crap!” I squeaked. “This is it! This is Santa’s workshop! It’s real!” I spun around, taking in the merry atmosphere, the cups of steaming cocoa, the mistletoe in the doorways. It was all real.
Emma was giggling at my awe when suddenly she skidded to a halt, giving a gasp of surprise. “He’s here!”
Bernie’s eyebrows shot up expressively, yet he remained silent.
“Who’s here?” I spun to face the direction Emma was looking just in time to see a man turn to face me as well. My heart stopped in my chest, and it took every ounce of self-control to keep from slipping to the floor because my legs had turned to jelly.
Across the room stood the most drop dead gorgeous man I’d ever seen in my life. After a quick perusal, I started at his head and slowly worked my way down.
He had short blond hair, which he wore in spiked points. Jade green eyes complimented a handsome face whose light blond five o’clock shadow did nothing to hide dimples that had my knees trembling.
He wore a black t-shirt so tight I could see the outline of each abdomen muscle as he moved. A pair of faded jeans and black high-tops rounded off an outfit that in no way belonged in Santa’s workshop. “Who’s he?” I asked in wonder.
Emma didn’t get a chance to answer before the man was moving toward us at a brisk pace. It was impossible to ignore the displeased expression that dominated his face or the glare of his green eyes. “Emma!” he boomed in warning.
“Your mother thought it was a wise idea,” the little elf started, but he interrupted her.
“This is none of my mother’s business.” He turned to me with a look of disgust. “You aren’t welcome here. Get back on that jet and go back to whatever hell you came from.”
I took a subconscious step back at the man’s hostility and blinked up at him in shock. He was a good six foot four, handsome, and rude as can be. “I…I…”
“Don’t be mean to Cara,” Emma defended with a glare of her own. “Give her a chance. I have a feeling the two of you will get along swimmingly.”
“Who told you that?” the man asked with a snort, “Cupid?”
“As a matter of fact—”
“Tell Cupid to mind his own damn business. I don’t need a Mrs. Claus. I am running this place just fine on my own. Requiring a Mrs. Claus is an outdated tradition, and you all know it.”
His words drew a gasp from my throat. “Wait. You’re Chris?”
His fiery gaze swept back to me. “Yes. Chris. Chris Kringle. Laugh, and I’ll toss you out in the snow and lock the doors.” He returned his anger to Emma. “Get rid of her. I want her out of my home before dinner tonight.”
Taking offense at the massive attitude I was receiving from Santa Claus, I snapped, “I’m not a dog.”
“No,” he said scornfully. “You’re a woman who would drop her entire life to marry a man she doesn’t know for a chance at immortality. If you think I’d marry someone that shallow, you’re an idiot.”
Those angry eyes swept back to Emma. “Get rid of her. Now.” With that, he turned his back and strode away.
Chapter Two
“But I don’t wanna go to dinner with Santa,” I complained. Even to my own ears, my voice sounded shrill and annoying. “Santa…well, he’s kind of a jerk.”
“His name is Chris,” Emma said tartly as she yanked a brush through a knot in my hair. Ignoring my wince of pain, she then wrapped a fat curling iron around the chunk of hair she’d just combed out. “He’s a very sweet man. Honest.”
“Didn’t seem like it to me,” I said stubbornly. “He yelled at me.” I practically pouted as the memory of his insults came back to me. “He wanted you to kick me out of his house.”
“He doesn’t know what’s good for him,” the little elf said with obstinate conviction.
“You bombarded him,” I pointed out carefully. “You went behind his back with something he obviously feels very strongly about.”
Emma gave me a look in the mirror that clearly stated she didn’t appreciate my opinion on the matter. “Then I suppose you shouldn’t judge him so harshly.” She released my hair from the curling iron and made a sound of approval as it fell softly along my shoulder. Picking up the largest can of hairspray I’d ever seen, she aimed it at my head and let forth an assault that smelled suspiciously like cinnamon.
When the onslaught of compressed Christmas cheer finally ended, I was coughing. “Was that necessary?” I managed to get out as I waved a hand in front of my face to abate the fumes.
“Completely,” she assured. “You have to look perfect for this dinner. When Chris sees how beautiful I’ve made you, he won’t be able to resist your charms.” She gave me a stern look and demanded, “Be charming.”
I frowned at her determination. “Emma, I hate to disappoint you, but I don’t think Chris is in the market for a future Mrs. Claus. You can’t make someone fall in love.”
The tiny fingers of her left hand grabbed my cheeks and squeezed to get my lips to purse. “Nonsense. Cupid assured us Chris would fall head over heels for you. Cupid is never wrong.” Biting the cap off of a tube of pink lip gloss, she dabbed it across my lips before stepping back to admire her handiwork.
“Perfect,” she breathed. Her face had a glow to it that made me feel almost guilty. She was expecting way too much from me. All I’d been hoping to get out of this trip was a few weeks of relaxation, not a fairy tale romance.
I opened my mouth to tell her as much when Emma unceremoniously dumped me out of my chair to my feet. “Now go charm you some Santa,” she ordered. Then she smacked me on the ass and shoved me toward the hallway.
* * *
I’d never been more nervous than I was when approaching the Claus dining hall. Emma had shoved me in its direction and left me to my own devices. Apparently, the elves went home after their hard day’s work to have dinner with their families. The only elves that would still be on the premises were the cooking staff, and even they would be leaving shortly.
Many nights, Chris dined with his parents, but he’d sent them on a vacation in Malibu to distance himself from his mother’s pleas for him to marry. That meant tonight it would be just the two of us at the dinner table. I would be invading his personal space and home life. Fantastic. I might be the only woman in the world who could say she had managed to piss off Santa Claus.
Steeling my nerves, I knocked tentatively at a large oak door before inching inside the massive refectory.
Chris was bent over paperwork, his fork dangling from long fingers as he read. His head lifted at the sound of my entrance, and his jaw dropped. “You’re still here?”
His incredulous tone caused me to falter. I hadn’t been expecting a pleasant reception, but the tension in his jaw as he ground his teeth together made me feel even more like an intruder.
I hesitated in the doorway, uncertain of how to progress. Finally, I just blurted out the thing that would most likely put him more at ease. “I don’t want to marry you.”
His eyebrows rose at my blunt statement. Setting the fork down on his napkin, he studied me with his emerald gaze. “You don’t?”
Shaking my head vigorously, I took a few steps forward. “I don’t.” Wanting him to know the truth of our situation, I proceeded to divulge the entire series of events that had brought me to this point.
“…And then by the time I realized why Emma brought me here, it was too late. They already expected me to happily submit to becoming a holiday figurehead. And I don’t want to be Mrs. Claus,” I practically wailed. “She’s old and has big hips. She eats cookies all day. I’ll vomit if I have to do that. I swear I will.” I knew I was rambling, but if I stopped with my barrage, I feared I might burst into tears. As a girl who totally adored Christmas, I did not want Santa to hate me. “All I wanted was a nice vacation.”
Chris sat staring at m
e in stunned silence from the head of the table, his mouth gaping slightly. “She…” He shook his head and hissed the elf’s name under his breath. “Let me get this straight. Emma tricked you into coming here? Unbelievable.”
At his anger, I slid into one of the free chairs closest to him along the side of the large table. “She just cares about you,” I quickly said in Emma’s defense. “Though her actions might be misguided, she only wants you to be happy.”
“I’d be happy if they would all just leave me alone,” he retorted with feeling.
“I’m sorry,” I said softly and meant it. I could imagine that being Santa Claus had to come with some pressure of its own. Add in being hounded to take a wife, and his life appeared to be downright stressful.
Those alluring eyes stared into mine for a moment before he let out a weary sigh. “I’m sorry Emma deceived you into coming here.” He paused before adding, “You’re welcome to stay for the duration she promised you.” His eyes narrowed almost accusingly. “This is only a vacation, though. There will be no trying to seduce me. I don’t want to find you sunbathing in a bikini or distracting me from my work by smelling like Christmas, as you do right now.”
“Sunbathing in a bikini?” I asked, bursting into a laugh at the thought. “We’re at the North Pole!”
“I’m just covering my bases,” Chris informed me.
The second part of his sentence sunk in as an elf entered the hall to place a second plate of food on the table. I couldn’t stop my wry grin as the elf scurried back into the kitchen. “You find me distracting?”
Chris pushed the second plate of food in my direction. “Shut up and eat before I change my mind,” he grumbled, though I saw the hint of a smile. As an afterthought, he added, “And my mother never had big hips.”
Saving Santa (Romance on the Go) Page 1