Secret Santa

by Fern Michaels

  What the heck was wrong with her? Was Claire so self-centered that she couldn’t assess a situation that wasn’t connected to her or her legal life? Yes, she was, she thought, as Kelly told her about Paddy’s first giggle.

  “I would’ve loved to hear that. I’m coming back to Ireland, though I’m not sure when. I’ll make sure to come for a visit. Stay in touch, okay?” Claire said. Kelly promised she would. When Claire punched the END button, she felt sad. Seeing the scrap of paper with Kelly’s address, she read it to Quinn. “Are you familiar with the area?”

  Quinn looked in the rearview mirror, adjusted it before answering. “It’s Dublin’s worst possible area. Drugs, prostitutes, murders. You name it, it happens there.”

  “I can’t leave without seeing her, Quinn. She’s a young woman, and I think she’s in need of a friend and maybe some financial help.” Claire really didn’t know what to do.

  “You’ll miss your flight, you do realize that?”

  “Yes, yes I do. Never mind. Let’s just get to the airport. I’ll figure out a way to help Kelly and Paddy.”

  “I have an idea,” he said, a grin showing his white teeth in the darkened car.

  “Let’s hear it.”

  “How would you like to play Santa Claus?”

  “Well for starters, I would need a sleigh, along with eight reindeer, about a hundred extra pounds, a white beard, and a red suit, but I’m game. I’m all ears.”

  “It’ll take a bit of work, but I think I can make sure that Kelly and Paddy have a Merry Christmas.”

  “Go on,” Claire prompted.

  For the next half hour Quinn explained what he would do as soon as they arrived in the States. It took Claire a minute or two before his words registered. “What do you mean, when we arrive in the States?”

  “I’m going home, too. A bit earlier than planned, but with such a sexy traveling companion, I couldn’t resist.”

  Claire was at a loss for words. “But . . . why? You have all those cars, and your uncle is here. He’s not well, Quinn. Someone needs to keep an eye on him.”

  “Marty and Tilly are highly qualified. Not only is Tilly an amazing chef, when she lived in China, she was also a doctor—an internist, I think.”

  “You’re not joking, are you?”

  “I wouldn’t joke about that.”

  Claire realized she hardly knew Quinn Connor, yet she knew she could trust him, knew he was a man of his word. Plus, he was a really good kisser, and beyond good-looking. And an attorney, too. She couldn’t have handpicked a more suitable match for herself, but she’d keep those thoughts to herself. At least for now. When Colleen and Megan heard about him, the matchmaking would never end. She’d keep him a secret for a while.

  “Does Donald know this?”

  “I think he has an idea, but as long as she prepares gourmet meals, he doesn’t really give too much thought to anything else she does. Or Marty. Though Marty’s been working for my uncle since I was a boy, so there’s a story there. And they’re really good friends even though Marty works for him. He’s very well-off, and doesn’t need to work, but he seems to believe Donald couldn’t get along without him.”

  “Then Marty and Donald must be about the same age,” Claire stated.

  “Marty’s in his early seventies. And Tilly just turned sixty-seven. She made sure to remind me that I missed her birthday this year.”

  “She hardly looks a day over fifty.”

  “She’s a very intelligent woman. She’s never told anyone why she left China, but it can’t be good. Whatever her reason, I’m glad we have her. And so is Marty. They’ve been more than friends for a number of years.”

  “I guessed as much. They make a cute couple.”

  Quinn reached across the bucket seat and placed his hand on her upper thigh. “I know someone else who would make a cute couple, too.”

  Claire grinned.

  “Who would that be?”

  “That’s for me to know and you to find out,” Quinn said, then squeezed her thigh, sending shocks of desire through her.

  And Claire would find out.

  Chapter Seven

  They arrived at JFK on time. Claire had never been so happy to get off an airplane in her entire life. The return flight home was much longer, and they’d had seats in coach by the toilets. Between the passengers’ coming and going, not to mention the smell that seeped out every time the door opened, Claire never slept a wink. By now it’d been close to forty-eight hours since she’d had any real sleep. Her eyes were gritty, her teeth felt like she hadn’t brushed them since they’d come in, and on top of everything else, she felt like she was coming down with a cold.

  Once they passed through Customs and retrieved their luggage, Quinn made a phone call. Twenty minutes later, they were picked up in a black Lincoln and whisked off to a private airport.

  “Where are we going?” she asked, though truly she didn’t care. As long as it was away from that terrible smell.

  “I thought you wanted to spend the holidays with your family,” Quinn said. “I am making it my personal mission to see that you arrive safely. I’ve chartered a private jet to take you to Colorado.”

  “Tell me you’re kidding.”

  “I would, but I’m not.”

  “I don’t know what to say, other than thank you.” Claire was too tired to think straight. All she wanted to do was sleep. If Quinn wanted to hire a private jet to take her home, it was fine with her. As long as she could sleep, and the plane didn’t smell like urine, she was good. She didn’t even think about being afraid. And she hadn’t been afraid on the return flight from Ireland. Quinn had entertained her, they’d watched two movies, shared the goodies Tilly sent, and talked about everything and nothing. By the time they landed on American soil, Claire felt as though she’d known him her entire life. Quinn told her about his law practice. He was a defense lawyer but devoted much of his time to the down and out. She wanted to ask him how he managed to earn a living, but she knew he’d inherited half of his father’s fortune when he’d died. Quinn Connor was a very rich man but Claire didn’t care. She liked him, maybe a bit more than liked, but again, she would keep those thoughts to herself. For now, she was content to let him take charge of her life even if it was only for a few hours.

  “You don’t mind if I come along for the ride?” he asked, as they climbed aboard the luxurious Beechcraft Super King Air B200.

  “Not at all, but I can’t promise to keep my eyes open much longer,” Claire said, then immediately yawned. “I am tired.”

  Quinn helped her get settled in her seat, showed her all the fancy buttons, and as soon as they were at a safe altitude, he explained to her how her seat reclined. He removed a soft pillow from the overhead bin, along with an equally soft blanket that smelled like Downy fabric softener. “You sure know how to make a girl happy.”

  He sat in the seat facing her. “You ain’t seen nothing yet.”

  It wasn’t long after takeoff that Claire fell into a sound, restful sleep. When she awoke, she was surprised to learn she’d been asleep for almost five hours. Her eyes didn’t feel gritty, but her mouth felt horrible. Quinn was sipping a cup of coffee and reading The Wall Street Journal. He must have sensed her watching him because he tore his gaze from the paper, and when he looked at her, Claire truly felt her heart skip a beat. She smiled at him.

  “Have a nice nap?”

  “Beyond. That coffee smells luscious.”

  “I knew you’d want a cup, so I made sure to save some for you.” Quinn had to stoop as he walked to the small galley at the back of the aircraft, but when he returned with a cup of strong black coffee in a real china cup, Claire felt as though she’d died and gone to heaven. She sipped the hot brew, relishing every drop. When she finished, Quinn poured her a second cup, this time bringing her a wrapped blueberry muffin and a paper plate with a knife and fork. “Sorry about the paper plate. Jack forgot to pack the good china plates.”

  “Hey, this is the most luxurious
plane I’ve ever seen. And you know what?” she asked as she opened the cellophane-wrapped muffin. “I’m not even remotely nervous, or afraid. If I could travel in a plane like this, I don’t think I’d be nearly as fearful. Is that crazy or what?” she asked, then took a bite of her muffin.

  “Not at all. Now do you want to hear about Kelly and Paddy’s surprise? While you were sleeping, I made a few phone calls. It seems that Kelly’s husband died in a motorcycle crash right after she learned she was pregnant. Her mother barely gets by, but Kelly didn’t have much choice after her husband died, so she moved in with her. It’s public housing, which isn’t so bad, but the area is Dublin’s worst. Apparently, Kelly works as a full-time housekeeper for a well-to-do family. They bought her and Paddy’s tickets to New York.”

  “How do you know all this?”

  “First, and foremost, I am an attorney with contacts across the globe. Secondly, I have access to the Internet and a telephone. Now does that answer your question?”

  He grinned, and once again, Claire felt her heart skip a beat or two. “Has anyone ever told you what an amazing man you are?” She couldn’t help it. This guy was almost too good to be true. And like him, she, too, had her contacts. As soon as she was able, she just might have a look-see into his past, just to make sure there wasn’t anything . . . what, she thought? Bad? A juvenile record? An unwanted child? No, she would not do this. She trusted him, and she trusted her gut instinct as well. Quinn Connor was the man she thought he was. Decent, giving, and kind. Not to mention good-looking, brilliant, and, yes, she might as well add rich to his long list of growing attributes. And he was an excellent kisser. If his skills in the bedroom were anything like the rest of him, then Claire knew making love with Quinn Connor would be life-changing.

  “Claire?”

  She jerked herself out of her reverie. “Sorry, I was fantasizing.”

  “About me? Us?” he asked, all traces of humor gone.

  Claire wasn’t sure how to answer him. Did she tell him the truth? Or was she willing to be just another woman in a string of many? Someone to toy with until he grew tired of her? Was all of his kindness and concern for others nothing but an act? No, no, no! She had to stop second-guessing herself. She had feelings for this man. Real feelings that had nothing to do with his looks, his financial status, or the number of cars he owned. She just clicked with him, pure and simple.

  “Claire, did I say something to upset you?” Again, he was serious.

  She shook her head. “No, I’m just not sure why the sudden change of mood. One minute you’re teasing me, and when I tell you I am fantasizing, you’re suddenly serious. Did I say something to upset you?”

  “No, you didn’t. So tell me what you’re thinking? Please,” he added, a trace of his earlier humor in his words.

  “I’m thirty-four years old, Quinn, not some young cutesy girl that you can discard as soon as you tire of me.” There, she’d said it. Now all she had to do was wait for him to explain that he really liked her, and yes they were going to enjoy one another, but that’s as far as he was willing to go.

  What the hell happened to her? The Claire that needed no one. The Claire that was self-reliant and independent? The woman who vowed to remain footloose and fancy-free? She didn’t know. Maybe she’d left that woman behind when she’d crossed the Atlantic. Whatever it was, she wasn’t Super Claire anymore and didn’t want to be.

  More than anything, Claire O’Brien wanted to be loved. And she would accept nothing less. And that was the old dynamic Claire talking. She grinned.

  “Want to tell me what’s so funny because right now, I don’t seem to see the humor in what you just said. And for the record, Claire, I’m almost forty years old. I am not looking for some ‘young cutesy girl’ to have a fling with. I thought we had something. Was I mistaken? Am I moving too fast? Tell me, I want to know.”

  The old stubborn Claire was up and running, putting her foot in her mouth. The new, softer Claire was glowing inside just knowing that Quinn might have more than lust on his mind.

  “I was fantasizing about sleeping with you, when you asked why I was grinning. Then I decided that you’re way too handsome, way too accomplished, and way too rich to want . . .”

  “—what?”

  “A relationship.” There it was out. She barely knew the man, and she wanted a commitment from him. Sort of.

  “Do you think I make a habit of traipsing across the globe to help damsels in distress? Is that the kind of man you want to be with?”

  “No and yes,” Claire replied.

  “I suppose I have to ask if that was answered in the order in which the questions were asked?”

  Claire smiled, she couldn’t help it. She needed to learn to stop putting words in the mouths of everyone she came in contact with. It was truly a bad habit, one she wanted to rid herself of, but it wasn’t going to be easy.

  “Now you’re laughing at me,” Quinn commented, but he, too, had a slight grin on his face and a twinkle in his eyes.

  “I would never laugh at you, Quinn, but I promise I will laugh with you.”

  “I like that answer. And let me say something before we land, because something tells me it might be a while before we’re alone again. But before I say anything else, I just want you to know that Kelly and Paddy, and, of course, her mother now have a brand-new home, courtesy of Flynn Financial. That’s the name of my private company. And Kelly will no longer be cleaning other people’s homes to earn a living. A little bird told me she’s always wanted to go to school to become a nurse, and, of course, I made sure that this will happen. I did save that for Christmas Day, though. I thought the house was enough for now. And Paddy. He’ll never have to worry about a college education because that’s been taken care of, too.”

  Claire was truly at a loss for words. And here she thought sending Kate Spade shoes and Uggs was a grand gesture. A house? An education for Kelly and Paddy? No, she didn’t even want to try to top that. Stunned that he’d managed to accomplish all this while she slept, and aboard an airplane! If ever there was a true Santa Claus, it was Quinn Connor.

  “You know what? From now on, I think I’m going to call you Mister Christmas.”

  Chapter Eight

  When they arrived in Denver, Claire called Patrick as soon as they were on their way to the city. “Bet you don’t know where I’m at?” she asked as soon as Patrick picked up the phone.

  “Now, let me guess. Kissing the Blarney Stone? Having a Guinness? No, scratch that, you wouldn’t like that. Too strong for a wimpy kid like you. Let me see, maybe you’re about to jump off the Cliffs of Moher?”

  She laughed. “Wrong on all accounts.” She placed her hand over the phone. Whispering to Quinn, she said, “He thinks I’m still in Ireland.”

  “What did you say?”

  “Oh for crying out loud, Patrick, I’m back in the States. As a matter of fact, I’m about to head out to I-70 tomorrow. Wanna give me a road update?”

  She heard her brother laughing. “Seriously? You’ve been to Ireland and back in two days? I take it the place wasn’t up to your standards?”

  “It’s beautiful there, but I had to leave. I’ll explain it to you when I see you. Tomorrow. I’m spending the night in a hotel tonight. I’ve hardly slept since I last spoke with you. Make sure to tell Stephanie and the girls that I’ll see them tomorrow, okay? And the rest of the gang, too. They’ll all be there right?”

  “Yep.”

  “Good, because I’m bringing a guest along. Someone special that I want to introduce to my family. Okay, I’m about to lose what’s left of my battery. See you tomorrow.” Claire clicked END, then turned her phone off before it rang again. Knowing her brother, he was probably calling the rest of the gang right about now. Since there were so many, Claire knew it would take at least half an hour for the news to spread throughout the O’Brien family. Once the news was out that she was bringing someone for them to meet, her cell phone would never stop ringing. She explained all this to
Quinn. “And that’s why I won’t turn my phone on until we arrive.”

  “And you say they’re in Telluride?” Quinn asked as he exited off the interstate.

  “Yes. Where are we going?” She assumed they would stop at a motel along the way, share some private time together, maybe she’d jump his bones, but apparently he had other plans. He drove down Sheridan Boulevard and pulled into a McDonald’s. “I have a confession to make. I’m addicted to Big Macs. I treat myself once a week, no more, but it’s been almost two weeks since I’ve had one. Do you mind?”

  She busted out laughing. “I learn something new about you by the minute. And for the record, I like a fish sandwich from Mickey D’s myself now and then. Minus the cheese, though. A large fry, extra ketchup, and a large Dr Pepper.”

  “Now that we have that out of the way, let’s go inside. I’m starving.”

  Claire was tired to the bone but in a good way. She’d slept on the plane, and it’d been a good, deep sleep, but she still longed for a bed, a hot bath, and a steaming mug of Earl Grey tea. But for now, she planned to enjoy every minute of her time alone with Quinn.

  Inside, they placed their orders. As soon as the food was ready, they sat by the window overlooking the parking lot. It wasn’t much of a scene outside. It had snowed in Denver two days ago, but now the sun had melted it, and it was nothing more than brown slush. Cars with rust from the salt on the roads were parked haphazardly throughout the lot. Snowdrifts were banked against the curb. A few kids jumped around in the play area, and Christmas tunes could be heard from hidden speakers. A fake tree decorated with empty french fry boxes and the paper boxes they now used in place of the styrofoam ones for the variety of sandwiches they carried hung from the tree. Cookies and the tiny toys that came inside the kids’ meals were strung across the branches. It wasn’t much of a tree, Claire thought, but it was quite appropriate for McDonald’s.

  Silent for a change, they were both focused on eating when Claire suddenly had an epiphany. “This is the first time we’ve been out to dinner together.”