The Irishman's Christmas Gamble (Wager of Hearts #2.5)

by Nancy Herkness

  His embrace tightened and she let him shelter her, from the bitter river wind, from the chattering teenagers, from the feelings threatening to drown her. It had been a long time since she’d felt protected by another human being.

  “Liam Keller? Aren’t you Liam Keller, the new coach for the New York Challenge?” An excited but refined male voice shattered the moment of stillness.

  Liam’s hold loosened but he didn’t release her. Instead he turned and tucked her against his side as he faced a dark-haired man wearing a ski jacket and red scarf, and holding a microphone. Behind the reporter a scruffy cameraman carried a video cam marked “WNYN News”.

  The reporter held out his hand, “I’m Mark Singh with WNYN. I’m doing a local color piece on New Yorkers enjoying the snowfall, and I’d love to include you in it. Would you give me a couple of minutes of your time?”

  Liam shook his hand and gave Frankie a rueful smile. “Sure thing, Mark.”

  “Great! So tell us what brings you here?”

  She could feel Liam gather himself before he flashed his famous smile and said, “I’m enjoying one of the simple pleasures of my new home city.” A mild obscenity sounded from the hill behind them, making Liam chuckle. “And learning some American colloquialisms.”

  “You know this is called ‘Suicide Hill’? Have you been down it yet?” Mark asked.

  “That we have, and a fine, fast ride it was.” Frankie nearly laughed as Liam struck the perfect balance between his Irish accent and being understood by an American audience. “We dodged all the trees and thanked God for the hay bales at the bottom.”

  “And you, ma’am, what did you think of the hill?” Mark thrust the mic at Frankie.

  Liam’s grip on her waist tightened, but Frankie had faced plenty of television cameras in her day. “I was glad I had an elite level athlete with great reflexes at the helm. There are no traffic rules on that slope.”

  “Sounds like you’re from Ireland too,” Mark said.

  “Liam and I are friends from way back,” she said with a nod.

  Mark turned to the camera. “And that was Liam Keller, newly hired coach of the New York Challenge. Now we know how he spends his time when he’s not on the soccer pitch.”

  The red recording light on the camera winked out, and Mark said, “I’m a soccer fan myself. Good luck with your new team.”

  Liam dug into his jeans pocket for his wallet, pulling a business card out of it. “Drop me an email, and I’ll make sure you get good seats.”

  “That’s a deal,” Mark said, tucking the card in his coat’s inner pocket. “Don’t break anything. New Yorkers go a little crazy in the snow.”

  The reporter wandered off, trailing his cameraman. Liam stood watching, his smile still in place, until Mark was out of sight.

  “Jaysus, you can’t escape the media anywhere,” he muttered.

  “That’s why the Bellwether Club exists.”

  “But you can’t go sledding there.” He shrugged off his irritation and nudged the sled with his foot. “Ready for another run?”

  “It’s my turn to steer.”

  “I thought you were happy to have an elite athlete driving for you.”

  “The first time down.”

  “All right then.” He grinned. “But I don’t think you want me to be lying on top of you, so we’ll do it sitting, with you in the front in full control.”

  He was wrong about her not wanting him on top of her, but it was a thought she shouldn’t be having.

  He pulled the sled to the lip of the slope and held it while Frankie seated herself with her feet braced against the steering bar. He sat behind her, bringing his long legs up on either side of her and bending them so his knees nearly reached her shoulders. It was like having a railing made of denim-covered muscle.

  “I’m going to give us a shove so brace yourself,” he said, his voice coming from beside her right ear so the warmth of his breath feathered over her skin.

  The sled slid back a few inches before jerking forward with a powerful lurch and hurtling down the slope. Liam leaned into her, so his chest was solid against her back and his arms were wrapped around her waist. But she had no time to enjoy the feel of him enveloping her, as the wind brought tears to her eyes and scoured her cheeks with cold.

  The tree trunks and fellow sledders came up fast so she had to focus on weaving among them, the tree trunks more easily than the sledders because they didn’t suddenly veer in unexpected directions. But the speed! The speed was delicious, and the risk made her blood fizz with exhilaration.

  The hay bales came at them, and Liam threw himself sideways, taking her with him. For a moment, she lay on top of him, laughing. “Again!” she cried.

  “As often as you want.”

  While they slogged up the hill with the sled, Frankie felt something in her open up, like a door allowing a sliver of light into a dark room. She reached for Liam’s gloved hand. “Thank you for bringing me.”

  His fingers curled around hers as though he held a precious artifact. “You’re the reason I came.”

  Half a dozen downward plunges later, Liam was lying under her and steering along the edge of the slope when a pair of teenaged boys, who were headed back up the hill, stepped out in front of them. Liam cursed a blue streak as he tried to wrench the sled away from the kids. Suddenly, the boys separated and lifted their sled up over their heads, making an arch for Liam and Frankie to pass under. As their sled whooshed through the opening, Liam gave them a piece of his mind in Gaelic. The boys cheered and Frankie laughed.

  When they toppled off the sled at the bottom of the slope, Liam was still muttering about stupid, feckless teenagers.

  “Come on, those kids gave us the perfect finish,” Frankie said. “A triumphal arch.” She looked up the hill but couldn’t find the daring pair in the crowd.

  “Are you saying you’re done?”

  “It seems the right note to end on. That and the fact that my fingers are going numb.”

  “Let’s get you into the heat of the limo.” As they walked up the hill, he called the driver, so the car was waiting when they arrived at the crest.

  Liam wrestled the sled back into the car, making Frankie chuckle as she bent to get in too. “I can’t get used to a sled in a limo,” she said.

  “Wait until you see it with your Christmas tree tied on the top.” He took one of her hands and peeled the glove off. “Yup, your fingers are red with cold. Give me your other hand too.” He sandwiched her hands between his big palms, sharing the warmth of his skin with her. It felt strangely safe to have her hands trapped in his.

  “I don’t have any decorations for a tree.”

  “That’s easy to fix.”

  She pulled her hands out from his. “When I need Christmas cheer I just go downstairs.”

  “Remember what happened to Scrooge.”

  “I give everyone who works for me a Christmas turkey.”

  He laughed, his cold-reddened cheeks creasing. “What’s the ceiling height on your elevator? About seven feet?”

  “I don’t need a tree that big.”

  “You could put a twenty-foot tree in that apartment of yours.”

  “And it would take a small army with ladders to hang ornaments on it.”

  He slung his arm around her shoulders and gave her a little shake. “Did you have fun sledding?”

  “You’re now going to use specious logic on me. Since I enjoyed the sledding, I will enjoy the Christmas tree.”

  “And there you have it.” He pulled her against his side. “Give it up, Frankie. You know I’m as fiercely stubborn as you are.”

  She laughed because she couldn’t deny it. Of course, their biggest arguments had always been about her walking home late after work at the chocolatier. Liam had insisted that she needed an escort, and she’d told him she was a grown woman and could take care of herself.

  And she could, until the night her boss had agreed to let her develop her own line of chocolates. She’d floated
through the gray, dimly lit streets, her mind on flavors and shapes and textures. Pure joy had flowed through her, the kind that made you forget everything but the moment. The kind that made anything seem possible. The kind she was feeling right now, with Liam’s strong arm around her.

  But that was the night she’d nearly been raped. If Liam hadn’t come to her rescue, God knows if she’d even still be alive.

  In the years since, she’d allowed herself to feel triumph or satisfaction or gratification, but never again that kind of blind happiness. It made you stupid and vulnerable, and she couldn’t afford either.

  Chapter Five

  The snow-dusted Christmas trees leaned against temporary fencing set up on a parking lot. Couples in bright hats and puffy jackets, some with children in tow, strolled through the fragrant outdoor aisles in search of the perfect pine.

  A ho-ho-ho-ing Santa Claus greeted Frankie and Liam on the sidewalk in front of the cashier’s shed. “And what do you want for Christmas, little lady?” he asked.

  That stymied Frankie. She could buy whatever she wanted, so there wasn’t anything left to put on her list. “World peace,” she said.

  “That’s a tall order,” Santa said. “But I’ll do my best.”

  As Santa went on to the next customer, Liam said, “Such an altruist you are.”

  “It’s better for the chocolate business if people aren’t shooting at each other.”

  “Is there nothing you want?”

  She waved her hand in dismissal. “I’ve got all the jets and diamonds I can use.”

  “I keep forgetting that you could buy a small country, if you chose. For now, we’ll settle for a tree.”

  She noticed that he had stiffened and the teasing light had vanished from his face. He had a problem with her money? That seemed ironic, since their youthful dreams had always been about being rich.

  But Liam was already walking down the rows of trees propped against the wooden fence. Frankie watched as he occasionally grabbed a fir and stood it upright for inspection before letting it drop back again.

  “What’s wrong with that one?” she asked after the seventh tree had been rejected.

  “Not fat enough. Maybe they have one that hasn’t been opened up yet.” He waved at one of the men working at the lot. “Hey, do you have a seven-footer that’s got some girth?”

  The fellow strolled up. “I might have one still netted…hey, aren’t you Liam Keller? Man, you are the best!” He raised his voice. “Yo, Pete, it’s Liam Keller.”

  “What? You’re puttin’ me—” A short, chubby man in an orange ski jacket came to a halt in front of them with his mouth hanging open. “Liam effing Keller.”

  “Nice to meet you, Pete,” Liam said with a half-smile. “I take it you’re a soccer fan.”

  “I’m a big fan of yours,” Pete said, finding his voice and shaking Liam’s hand. “When you scored that goal in the final against Germany….” He shook his head in wonder. “Okay, Rich, get this man the best tree on the lot. You want seven feet? You got eight.”

  Frankie trailed the trio to a pile of newly delivered trees behind the cashier’s shed, listening to them relive various moments of glory in Liam’s career. She was surprised at his celebrity here in New York. If he’d been a baseball player, she would have expected the recognition, but soccer wasn’t so popular in the States.

  Rich, Pete, and Liam cut open several trees before they agreed that this was what they were looking for. “What do you think, Frankie?” Liam asked, walking around the tree as Pete held it.

  “I’ve never seen a better one.”

  “I like you,” Rich said, giving her a thumbs-up. “Let’s get it on your car.” When he saw the limo, he whistled. “Mr. Keller knows how to do things in style.”

  Once the tree was secured, Frankie was pressed into service to take pictures with Rich’s and Pete’s phones of the two of them with Liam and the limo. Then Liam asked Pete to take a picture of him and Frankie together with Liam’s phone. Frankie caught herself smoothing her hair like a teenager and stopped as Liam put his arm around her shoulders. “Smile, my pretty bird,” he said.

  That made her laugh just as Pete took the shot. “I haven’t been called a bird in donkey’s years.”

  “About time someone did it then,” Liam said, folding himself into the limousine beside her.

  “Ha!” But she felt a little glow of pleasure that he thought of her as a girl. Which was ridiculous for a woman of her years. “Your fame has preceded you to New York, I see. Before long you’ll be on the cover of People Magazine.”

  “I hear I have a good shot at Sexiest Man Alive this year,” he said, but his attention was on his phone where he was swiping away.

  “I’d smack you for your conceit but it’s probably true.”

  He raised his head, his blue eyes hot and amused. “That’s twice now.”

  “Twice?”

  “That you’ve commented on my incredible good looks. It’s a good sign.”

  “It’s just a fact.”

  He lifted an eyebrow and went back to his phone, scrolling and tapping until he made a final grand flourish. “There. Now we’re headed for the proper store to buy decorations for your tree. And we can go back to talking about my handsomeness.”

  She punched him in the arm, surprising herself but making him chuckle. “Seriously, Liam, you’re bloody famous.”

  “Which can be bloody inconvenient.” He sighed. “I’m not complaining, mind you. I just didn’t expect it so soon here. The truth is that I need all the fans and media coverage I can get when it comes to putting soccer on the map in the States.”

  “I’m going to introduce you to a friend of mine. He plays the wrong kind of football, but he’s got powerful connections in the professional sports world.”

  Liam frowned. “And who might this footballer be?”

  “Luke Archer. He’s the quarterback for—”

  “I know who Luke Archer is. The question is: How do you know him?”

  “He’s a member of the Bellwether Club, of course.” Frankie was amused by his fit of jealousy. She’d come to know Luke well because he was one of the three crazy gamblers from her club who’d made a bet on true love. She was rooting for all of them to win their wager of hearts, but she couldn’t share their secret, even with Liam.

  “You keep impressive company.” Liam didn’t look happy about that.

  “I’m almost invisible to my members. As long as things are going smoothly, they don’t even know I’m there.”

  “That’s been your choice all along.”

  “It’s easier that way. You don’t build a billion-dollar company from the ground up without making a few enemies.”

  His eyes turned glacial, but he said nothing. Not like the old days, when he would have demanded she give him their names, so he could warn them off. “I have my own connections,” he said.

  Pride. He’d always had it in spades. Sometimes that was all that had kept him from giving up, so she couldn’t fault him for it. “I imagine you do. All over the world, in fact.”

  “Thanks for the offer of an introduction, though.” The ice melted and the gleam of humor reappeared. “You wouldn’t by any chance know J.K. Rowling personally, would you?”

  “Can’t help you with that one. You’re a Harry Potter fan?”

  “No, but I know someone who is.” He turned to look out the window but not before she caught the look of discomfort that crossed his face. “Here we are.”

  Liam hustled her across the sidewalk and through the door before she could read the store’s sign. As she stepped inside, she had the sense of being inside a kaleidoscope, with brilliant bursts of translucent color surrounding her.

  “Welcome to Glass Dreams.” A young man in jeans and a black tee shirt stepped out of the swirl of color. “If you have any questions, just ask.”

  Liam pointed upward. “These would go with your apartment.”

  Frankie tilted her head back. Globes of blown glass in bri
lliant colors and patterns hung from multihued silk ribbons. Some had swirls and stripes of colored glass applied to the outside. Some had sculptural shapes inside them. Each one was a work of art in its own right.

  “How did you know about this place?” she asked.

  That same odd shadow flitted over his face. “I was Christmas shopping in the neighborhood and noticed it. The colors catch your eye from the outside.”

  “They’re brilliant.” She ran a quick calculation in her head based on the size of the tree and the density of the branches and spoke to the salesperson. “I’ll need about seventy of these. Do you have ornament boxes?”

  The young man’s eyes lit up before he nodded and disappeared into a back room.

  “Point to the ones you want and I’ll unhook them,” Liam said.

  “You have to help choose them too. What do you think of doing the whole tree in different shades of red?”

  “No fun. Let’s just pick the ones we like the best.” He pointed to one that had green and white swirls. “That one reminds me of my first soccer team’s colors.”

  Frankie nodded and Liam took it down.

  A black orb with gold speckles swung near her eye level. “Those are the colors of my Black-and-Tan candy bar wrapper.”

  The young man appeared beside her, a large box with nests of tissue paper resting in his arms. Liam laid the two ornaments in it.

  “This one for the Irish rain,” Frankie said, pointing to a sphere with silver dripping down its sides.

  “Now you’re getting into the spirit of it.” Liam unhooked a globe spangled with red, white, and blue. “For our new country, the land of opportunity.”

  The young man fetched fresh boxes as they filled them. When they were finished, the number of silk ribbons dangling with empty ends was noticeable in the small boutique. “No problem,” the young man said. “We’ve got plenty more in the stockroom.”

  As he began to tally the bill, he looked up at Frankie. “I’m giving you a volume discount.”

  “I appreciate the Christmas spirit, but charge me full price,” Frankie said. “Your glassblowers need it more than I do.”