She accompanied that question with a bat of her eyelashes.

  Ross stepped closer, dropping his hands onto her hips. Even through the padding of her pants, sweater, somebody’s hoodie, somebody else’s jacket and her heavy coat, she felt the possessive weight of it.

  “I’m sure we’ll think of something.”

  She gazed up at him, licking her lips and smiling. “I already have thought of something.”

  “Oh?”

  She leaned up on tiptoes, brushing her lips against his jawline and whispered, “Close your eyes.”

  He did. Immediately.

  “Count to twenty.”

  “Uh…why?” One eye opened and she immediately frowned. He closed it again. “Sorry. Counting. One.”

  She stepped away. “No peeking. Keep counting.”

  “Two.”

  A smile crossed his face, as if he were picturing her stripping out of her clothes, laying herself out naked on the security desk. Hmm. That could be kind of interesting. Though they couldn’t possibly be seen through the drifts or the still-falling snow, it sounded extremely daring.

  “Three.”

  She shook her head and tiptoed backward toward the closed stairwell door. He was saying four as she carefully pulled it open and five as it swung closed behind her. Hopefully, by the time he reached twenty, she’d be back up on the sixth floor.

  Hide-and-seek in a six-story office building. Sounded like a good way to kill some time.

  Especially if she made sure she was naked by the time he found her.

  10

  Then

  New York, December 24, 2005

  AS MUCH AS LUCY WOULD have liked to stay in Ross’s little house and learn everything there was to know about making love, she had to work on Christmas Eve. The photographer for whom she was interning had families coming in for holiday portraits and she needed to be there with bells on.

  Literally. Jingle bells. They were attached to the curled-up toes of her silly elf shoes and she tinkled with every step.

  One day, when she was a world-famous photographer, she’d laugh about this. But not now. It was just too ridiculous and embarrassing. So much for wanting to seem like a cool, collected, mature woman during her first-ever “morning after.” Ross was going to look at her and think he’d spent the night with a teenager.

  “Please tell me you’ll wear that outfit tonight,” Ross said, not attempting to hide his amusement when she emerged from the bathroom early Saturday morning.

  “Ha ha.”

  “I mean it. You’re totally hot. Hermie would never have left the North Pole to become a dentist if you were around.”

  “Dork.”

  “Elf.” He grabbed her by the hips and pulled her close, laughing as her bobbing red feather poked him in the eye. He was still laughing when he pressed his mouth against hers for a deep, good morning kiss.

  Lucy wobbled on her feet a little. Somehow, she suspected Ross’s kiss—or even just the memory of his kiss—would always make her wobble.

  “Are you ready?”

  “Don’t I look ready?” she said with a disgusted sigh. Then she added, “You’re sure you don’t mind driving me all the way back up to the city?”

  “I told you, I have errands to run.”

  They’d spent time this morning wrapping and packing up his holiday gifts to his family. But she suspected there had to be shipping stores somewhere closer than Manhattan.

  “I could take the train.”

  “Forget it,” he said, ending the discussion.

  The traffic heading into the city wasn’t as bad as it would have been on a weekday. Most cars were heading out—obviously people who’d been stuck working right up until the twenty-third leaving for holiday weekends with family.

  They reached the studio about a half hour early, and Lucy, who had a key, led him inside. “You really don’t have to stay,” she told him as she turned on the lights.

  “I’m staying,” he insisted, immediately stepping to a front window to glance back out at the street.

  She knew why. Ross didn’t trust Jude not to come here and harass her. Not that either of them really thought he’d try anything violent in broad daylight, while she was at work. But she wouldn’t put it past him to come in and try to talk to her about why she should let last night’s ugly incident go.

  She wouldn’t. In fact, this morning, with Ross’s encouragement, she’d already called and spoken to someone at the police precinct near her apartment.

  “Are you usually here alone in the mornings?” Ross asked, when, after ten minutes, nobody else had arrived.

  “My boss is always late.” Rolling her eyes, she added, “He’s the irresponsible, creative genius type.”

  “So I see,” he said as he followed her into the studio, where a holiday scene had been laid out. A large sleigh with velvet cushions stood in a corner, in front of a snowy backdrop. Surrounding it were mounds of white fluff that looked like snow. Woodland creatures, decorated trees, candy canes and icicles finished the scenario. “This is cute.”

  “Thanks,” she said, pleased at the compliment, since she was the one who’d designed the whimsical scene. Her employer had never done more than drop a snowy screen behind a stool before she’d come onboard, and he’d already complimented her on the increased amount of traffic, telling her she had a knack for this kind of thing.

  Funny, really, since she never intended to do it again. Surprisingly, though, as she stood looking at the results of her creativity, she felt a pang of sadness at the thought. She’d put a lot of effort into this and had actually enjoyed doing it.

  Forget it. Paris fashion beats North Pole kiddieland any day.

  Right. Definitely. Even if she did love hearing the squeals of delight of some of the littlest children who came in for holiday sittings, she would almost certainly love the squeals of millionaires as they eyed the latest fashions on the catwalk.

  Hearing her cell phone ring, Lucy retrieved it, recognizing the studio owner’s name. “Uh-oh,” she mumbled, hoping this didn’t mean the man would be later than usual.

  A few seconds into the conversation, she realized it was worse than that. “You’re not coming in today at all?”

  “I’m sorry, it can’t be helped! I fell last night and hurt my knee. I can’t walk.”

  Huh. Considering the older man liked to dig into the spiked eggnog by noon, she had to wonder how he’d fallen.

  “We only have a few appointments—you can handle them.”

  Lucy sputtered. She was an intern—an unpaid one at that. And he seriously wanted her to do his job, on Christmas Eve?

  “I know this is going above and beyond,” he said. “But I’d be so grateful. I will absolutely compensate you for your time.”

  She could just imagine what he’d consider fair compensation. Considering she had worked like a slave for three months without earning a penny, she’d be lucky to make a hundred bucks.

  But hell, she was here. She was a photographer. And even if she didn’t ever want to take the kinds of photographs he took, it was her chance to work professionally. So she agreed.

  After she disconnected, and explained the situation, Ross offered to stay and help her. Lucy appreciated it, but knew he had things to do. Insisting that he go mail his packages, she added, “I’ll check the book, but I think there are only appointments between ten and one. If you can get back by then and greet people as they come in, I’d really appreciate it.”

  Then she’d be finished for the day, and they could go do…whatever two lovers, who were strangers a day ago, one of whom didn’t do Christmas, did on Christmas.

  She could hardly wait.

  “You’re on,” he promised as he headed toward the door. Before exiting, he said, “Keep this locked until ten, okay?”

  She nodded. “I swear. Don’t worry.”

  He gave her one of those devastating smiles that lit up his green eyes. “Can’t help it, Lucy.”

  The way he said it, the warmth in his expression, made her smile for several minutes after he’d gone. But eventually, she had to set up for work.

  Given the freedom to experiment, she decided to try out a few ideas, as long as the paying customers were willing. So by the time the first was scheduled to arrive, she’d already played around with some lighting effects, as well as a couple of her boss’s specialty lenses.

  Ross arrived back right on time, and with his help, she spent the next couple of hours enjoying the heck out of her job. For the first time, she wasn’t just signing people in, collecting checks, selling overpriced packages, and trying to make cranky, wet little kids laugh, while nodding at every single idea her boss had. She was creating, trying new positions and lighting and special effects. She could feel the energy as she worked, and suspected these images would turn out to be something special.

  By the time she’d finished with the last customer, it was after two. Ross had been a huge help, and once they were alone in the front office, she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. “Thank you so much—what a fun day!”

  “It was,” he told her, laughing as he dropped his hands to her hips and squeezed her tighter. “You were fantastic. I don’t know that I’ve ever seen anyone as great with kids as you are.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

  “I would,” he insisted. “You were really amazing. You should specialize in this.”

  “Fat chance,” she snorted. “I have other plans. Big plans.”

  “Like?”

  They began to clean up, getting ready to shut the studio down for the next few days. And while they did, Lucy told him about her upcoming study abroad trip. About her plans to photograph her way around the world. About the bright, exotic future she envisioned for herself, which had nothing to do with Santas or reindeer or chubby-cheeked infants.

  He broke in with a few questions, but for the most part, just nodded, agreeing that her future sounded wonderful. But when all was said and done, he still murmured, “I still say you’d be great doing this, too.”

  “Not happening,” she told him, knowing he didn’t truly understand. How could he? She hadn’t come right out and told him that her need to escape to somewhere far away had a lot in common with her need to avoid Christmas and all the happy family trappings that came with it.

  Lucy had loved photography from the time she was twelve and her parents had given her a “real” camera. She’d been the family photojournalist from that moment on, recording every event and capturing every wonderful smile.

  But then the family and the smiles had disappeared. Their loss had been almost more than she could bear. So going out into the world and seeing exotic places and people through the lens of her camera sounded ideal to her, now that she could no longer see the people she’d always loved. Exciting, of course…but more, it sounded a lot less painful. Her heart wasn’t going to be broken if a shot didn’t land on the pages of a magazine. Not caring as much about her subjects was the smart choice, the right choice. The perfect way to live her life.

  Ross’s voice suddenly jolted her out of the moment of melancholy. “So, little girl, have you been good all year?”

  Spinning around, she saw him sitting on the sleigh, patting his lap suggestively, like the world’s sexiest Santa.

  “Hmm,” she said, sauntering over. “That depends on your definition of good.”

  He pulled her down on top of him. “After last night, you are my definition of good,” he told her. “They should just put your picture on the G page in Webster’s.”

  “Are you sure I’m not a little bit bad?”

  He nuzzled her neck. “Only in the very best way.”

  Feeling soft and warm all over, she dropped her head back, inviting him further, loving the feel of his unshaven cheek against her skin. When he pressed his mouth to the hollow of her throat, she sighed. And when he moved lower, to tease the V-neck of her blouse, she leaned back even further. So far, she fell off his lap, onto a mountain of white, fluffy fake snow.

  “Ow,” she said, even as she laughed at herself.

  He leaped off the seat and knelt beside her. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “You’d better let me check you all over and make sure you’re not hurt.”

  Hearing the naughty tone, she feigned a deep sigh and sagged back into the fluff, which cushioned her like a giant feather bed. “Maybe you should. I do feel a little weak.”

  His eyes gleaming, Ross did as he’d threatened. Slowly, gently, he caressed her neck, brushed his thumbs over her collarbones, cupped her shoulders. As if he couldn’t be certain using just his hands, he began kissing his way down her body as well. Every time she sighed, or flinched, he’d look up at her and ask, “Did that hurt?”

  “Definitely not,” she mumbled, rising up to meet his mouth.

  He didn’t tease her for long. Neither of them could stand that. As if he couldn’t wait to be with her again—though it had only been hours since they’d left his bed—Ross unbuttoned her blouse, pulling it free of her flouncy skirt. He kissed his way to her breasts, bathing the sensitive tips through her bra.

  “Mmm,” she groaned, wrapping her fingers in his thick hair.

  She loved that he was so into her breasts, loved the way he slipped the bra strap down and plumped each one with his hand before sucking deeply on her nipples. Each strong pull of his mouth sent a jolt of want through her body, and her tights felt even more restrictive than usual.

  “Luce?” he mumbled as he pulled her skirt up around her waist and cupped her thigh.

  “Hmm?”

  “Since tomorrow’s Christmas, does that mean you don’t need this costume anymore?”

  “I guess so,” she murmured.

  “Good.”

  He didn’t explain what that meant, he simply showed her. Rising onto his knees, Ross reached for the crotch of her tights and carefully yanked. They tore open, exposing her sex completely, since she’d been wearing nothing underneath.

  “Good God,” he muttered, sitting back on his heels to look at her.

  Seeing that shocked delight in his face gave her such a feeling of feminine power. She deliberately spread her legs, revealing more of herself, loving the way his hand shook as he lifted it to rub his jaw.

  It wasn’t shaking when he reached out to touch her, though. She hissed as his long, warm fingers stroked her, delving into the slick crevice between her thighs. She was wet and ready, wanting him desperately.

  Fortunately, Ross had brought a condom, and she laid back in the fluff, watching him push his jeans out of the way and don the protection. She lifted a leg invitingly, knowing he’d like the feel of the silky fabric of the tights against his bare hip.

  She imagined he’d like it in other places, too. But his hips and that amazingly tight male butt were a good start. Without a word, she pulled him down to her, inviting him into her warmth.

  She was still new enough at this to gasp when he entered her, but Ross kissed away the sound. His warm tongue made love to her mouth as he pressed further into her body, until they were fully joined. Lucy wrapped her legs around him and rolled her hips up in welcome.

  He lengthened his strokes, filling and stretching and pleasing her so much she cried out at how good it felt. He was so thick and hard inside her, and she was used to this enough to want him harder, faster. Deeper.

  “More,” she demanded. “You’re being so careful…you can stop. I want it all, Ross. Give it to me.”

  He groaned. Then, as if he’d just been awaiting the invitation, pulled out and slammed back into her. Hard, deep. Unbelievably good.

  “Oh, yeah. More.”

  “You’re sure.”

  “Absolutely,” she insisted. “Give me everything you’ve got.”

  He didn’t reply with words. Instead, to her surprise, Ross pulled out of her and reached for her hips. His face a study in need and hunger, he rolled her over onto her tummy, then wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her up onto her knees. Lucy shivered, more excited than she’d ever been in her life.

  She was wet and hot and ready, and when he thrust into her from behind, she threw her head back and screamed a little.

  Still buried deep inside her, he grabbed her tights again. It took just one more tug and he’d ripped them completely in half from waist to thigh, baring her bottom entirely. Filling his hands with her hips, he drove into her again. Heat to heat, skin to skin.

  Lucy just about lost her mind. She loved it sweet and slow and tender. But oh, did she ever love it hot and wild and wicked. In fact, she realized, she loved each and every thing Ross Marshall did to her.

  Especially that. And, oh, that.

  They strained and writhed, gave and took, and soon, a stunning orgasm tore through her. As if he’d just been waiting for her to reach that point, Ross immediately buried his face in her hair, kept his arms wrapped tightly around her waist and let himself go over the edge, too.

  They collapsed together on the fluff. He rolled onto his side, tugging her with him, spooning her from behind. Lucy had a hard time catching her breath, but oh, God, was it worth it.

  Finally, when their breathing had calmed down a bit, Ross said, “So, since you’re finished with work, was that the official start of the holiday?”

  “If so,” she said, sounding vehement, “then merry Christmas to us!”

  He hugged her closer. “And to us a good night.”

  THEY HAD A HELL OF A good night. An amazing night, as far as Ross was concerned.

  After he and Lucy had cleaned up the studio and left, they hadn’t headed right back for Brooklyn. Instead they’d tooled around the city a little bit. He’d even managed to convince her to go up to Rockefeller Center and go ice skating. Sure, they’d been blade-to-blade with a thousand other people who had the same idea, but it was worth it.

  They’d walked past every decorated window on Park and Fifth Avenues, had gone down as far as Macy’s and jostled a place in line to see those, too. Lucy grumbled a lot, but beneath the complaints he’d heard something that tugged at his heart. A sweetness, an excitement, a longing she hadn’t verbalized, but was there all the same.