He didn’t.

  “Dang it all,” said the guard. He cast her a quick look. “Do you mind looking by yourself? I should run down and make sure that driver’s all right. If your stuff’s not here, check the break room, back down the hall, fourth door on the left.”

  “Of course,” she said, then watched the elderly man hurry away. She quickly scanned the office area. No luck. She wasn’t going to go snooping through Stella’s desk drawers or file cabinet, even if they weren’t locked. Her things wouldn’t fit, anyway.

  She next spent several minutes searching the break room. It was piled with boxes of decorations, and containers of unopened food. Lucy looked through every bag and box, to be sure nobody had tucked her things in there for safekeeping.

  Growing frustrated—and worrying somebody might have picked up the camera and lenses and given themselves an early Christmas present—she opened a free-standing cabinet and at last, struck pay dirt. “Yes!” she exclaimed, spying the familiar bag and case.

  So relieved she felt like crying, she scooped them up, hurried toward the elevator and pushed the call button. She waited. And waited. And waited. Nothing.

  Apparently the guard needed to again enter the code on the keypad so she could get down. Wondering if he could still be outside after all this time, she went to the front window and looked down toward the parking lot.

  What she saw surprised her. An ambulance, its lights flashing, was parked beside the two vehicles involved in the fender-bender. She hadn’t realized the crash had been so serious, but apparently the driver had been hurt. They were putting him on a gurney and wheeling him over to the ambulance.

  Suddenly that gurney was pushed under a streetlight, and she had a better view of the person on it. Even through the snow and the darkness she could make out the grizzled gray hair, not to mention the uniform.

  It wasn’t the driver of the other car. It was the guard.

  “Oh, God!” she muttered, wondering what had happened.

  He’d gone out to help the accident victim—had he slipped and fallen? Or, maybe he’d been trying to help dig the vehicle out of a snowbank. Considering his age, and knowing even the healthiest of men could be affected when they tried to shovel too-heavy snow, she prayed he hadn’t had a heart attack.

  Then she began to wonder something else.

  What if she was trapped in this building?

  Her heart started thudding as she replayed everything in her mind. The conscientious way the man had carefully locked the door this afternoon, even though people were still leaving. And the way he’d obviously kept the elevator turned off tonight, despite knowing she was up here.

  Would he really… “No,” she muttered, certain he wouldn’t have locked her in when he went to help the other driver.

  There was only one way to be sure. Remembering how Ross had beat her to the lobby today, she found a door marked Stairs and headed through it. Six flights down was not fun, but it was better than sitting in somebody’s office all night.

  Reaching the entrance, she held her breath and pushed the nearest door. It didn’t budge. Neither did the one beside it, or the next. She really was locked in here.

  “Every building has an emergency exit,” she reminded herself. She just had to find it. How difficult could that be?

  Not difficult at all.

  At least, she didn’t think so…until the power went out.

  6

  Then

  New York, December 23, 2005

  AS THEY WALKED THE BUSY streets of the city, Ross glanced at his watch and saw it was almost four o’clock. He began to do some mental calculations. What time did the shipping place close? How many people were lined up there already? How long would it take to get back to his place and pick up the wrapped presents?

  Eventually he just started to wonder how much money he had in his checking account. He needed to know that, since he suspected he wasn’t going to make it to the mailing store today to send off gifts to his family. He had lost track of time with Lucy; plus, he hadn’t even picked up something for his nephew yet. So it looked like he’d be paying a king’s ransom to send it tomorrow and arrange for a Christmas Day delivery. If there was such a thing.

  For some reason, though, that didn’t bother him as much as he’d have expected. It seemed worth the price since it had let him spend more time with Lucy Fleming. After the unpleasant scene with her ex, followed by that amazing kiss in the elevator, he hadn’t been about to say nice meeting you and walk away. Errands could wait. Plus, if worse came to worst, he could always send the family e-gift cards tomorrow. Having twenty-five bucks to spend at Amazon would make even his bratty youngest sister squeal; she was really into those teen romance books.

  With a fallback plan in place, he let himself forget about everything else—missing the holidays with his family for the first time in his life. The job he was starting next week. The tense phone call he’d had with his father last week. It was sure to be repeated on Christmas Day, when talk would shift from turkey and Mom’s great stuffing to the same-old question: When are you going to give up that vagabond lifestyle and come back home to work for the company where you belong?

  Gee. He could hardly wait. Not.

  So an afternoon spent with a beautiful young woman whose gold-tinted brown eyes actually sparkled as she looked in delight at the softly falling snow sounded like a great idea to him. The best one he’d had in ages—the last being when, after graduating from Illinois State, he’d decided to come to New York for a while rather than going home to work for Elite Construction. He didn’t regret that decision. Especially today. Today, he was very happy to be right where he was.

  “Do you want me to carry that?” he asked as they snaked up the street, weaving around street vendors and harried shoppers.

  Lucy glanced down at the rumpled box containing her broken gift from her brother. She was still clutching it against her chest. Every once in a while, a distinctive tinkle of broken glass came from within. Each one made her wince.

  His hands reflexively curled every time he saw her pain. He so should’ve laid-out her jerk of an ex. “Are you okay?” he asked, stopping in the middle of a sidewalk, earning glares from a dozen people who streamed past them.

  She nodded. “I’m fine, really. Thanks for the offer, but I’d rather hold onto this for a while.”

  She’d probably like to find a quiet place where she could open her gift, but that wasn’t going to happen here.

  Taking her arm as they were nearly barreled into by a power broker yammering into his cell phone, he led her down Broadway. Manhattan at Christmastime was a world of mad colors, sounds, and crowds, and this area felt like the pulsing center of everything. It might not have all the high-end shop windows up on Park or Fifth, with their fancy displays that dripped jewels and overpriced designer clothes. But it had a million little electronics stores with huge Sale signs in their windows, kitschy tourist shops, street performers, barkers, camera crews and vendors selling everything from scarves to hot dogs.

  It also had so much life. Walking one block up Broadway brought words from a half-dozen languages to his ears. While the city often got a bad rap for being unfriendly, Ross had never heard so many Merry Christmases. Even Lucy, who’d sworn she was a Scrooge about the holidays, seemed caught up in it.

  “This is the worst place in the world to be today, you do realize that, right?” she said, laughing as they wove through a crowd of Japanese tourists loaded for bear with shopping bags.

  They’d just headed down into a subway station, Ross having suddenly realized exactly where he wanted to go. “Nah. Maybe the second worst. Just wait till we get to our destination—that’s number one.”

  “Uh-oh. Dare I ask?”

  Grinning, he remained silent as they crammed into the subway car. Despite her pleas for clues, he didn’t say anything, not until they were actually across the street from the store he most wanted to visit. Then he pointed. “We’re here.”

  Her jaw unhinged. “You’ve got to be kidding! You seriously want to go into the biggest toy store in the universe today?”

  “Come on, it’ll be fun.”

  She took a step back. “It’ll be insane. There will be a gazillion kids in there.”

  “Nah. Just their frenzied parents.”

  “Who are worse than the kids!”

  “You’ll like this, I promise. Come on, Miss Cranky Ass.” She gaped.

  “Look, I need to get a present for my nephew. I know he’d love this walking, roaring dinosaur toy I’ve seen commercials for. My sister told me he’s spent the last month with his arms hidden inside his shirt, waving his little hands and roaring at all his preschool classmates.”

  “Velociraptor?”

  “Yup.”

  “Okay, at least he’s got good taste in dinosaurs. They’re my favorite, too.”

  “I always preferred the T-rex, myself.”

  “Not bad,” she said with a shrug. “So I guess that means we’re a couple of carnivores.”

  He nodded, liking the banter, especially liking that the bad mood her ex had caused appeared to have completely disappeared. “I guess so. Though, I don’t suspect it would take a whole pack of you to bring me to my knees.” No, he suspected Lucy would be quite capable of that all on her own.

  He didn’t elaborate, letting her figure out what he meant. When she lowered her lashes and looked away, he figured she had.

  What could he say? He was affected by her, had been at first sight. The feelings had grown every minute they’d spent together. Not that she was probably ready to hear that from a guy she’d met a few hours ago. Nor, honestly, was he ready to say it. Knowing she was amazing, fantastic—and that he wanted her, badly—was one thing. Admitting it this soon was another.

  So he went back to safer ground. “Anyway, that store’s probably the only place I’m going to find the dino-toy I’m looking for today. It walks, it roars, he’ll love it!”

  “Preschool-age appropriate?” she asked, sounding dubious.

  “Hell, no.” He grinned. “But that’s for his parents to deal with. I’m just the cool uncle who buys it.”

  Considering the present might be late, he wanted to make it a good one. No internet gift card could ever satisfy a four-year-old, and since Ross was the boy’s godfather, and his only uncle, he had to do right by him.

  “So, what do you say?”

  “I dunno…”

  “We’re talking about going into FAO Schwarz, not Mount Doom and the fires of Mordor.”

  She rolled her eyes. “At least there are no screaming little ones on Mount Doom, unless you count the Hobbits.”

  He liked that she got the reference. He wasn’t a total geek but couldn’t deny being a LOTR fan. “None in there, either. They’re all home being extra-good, hoping Santa will notice.”

  “How about I wait outside?” she offered, looking horrified by the idea of going in, but also a bit saddened by it.

  Lucy was obviously serious about that not-liking-Christmas thing. Though, he wondered if it was the holiday she didn’t like, or the memories that were attached to it. Given the few things she’d said about her parents, and the happy childhood she’d had before she’d lost them, he suspected that might be it.

  Well, bad memories never truly went away, but they could certainly be smacked into the background by good ones.

  “Your call,” he replied, tsking. “But remember, you don’t have to shop. Don’t you think you’d have fun watching the crazed parents fighting over the last Suzy Pees Herself doll, or the My Kid Ain’t Gonna Be Gay Monster Truck playset?”

  Lucy laughed out loud, as he’d hoped she would. “When you put it that way, how could I possibly refuse?”

  “You can’t. Anyone with an ounce of schadenfreude in their soul—which I suspect you have, at least when it comes to Christmas and oddly-penised exes—would race me to the door.”

  Mischief danced on her face and a dimple appeared in her cheek as she offered a self-deprecating grin. She didn’t deny it. That was something else he liked about her. Most other women he knew kept up that I-love-puppies-and-kitties-and-everyone front, at least at the beginning of a relationship. Lucy hadn’t bothered. Hell, she freely admitted she hated Christmas, and had been fantasizing about cutting off a guy’s dick when they’d met. Talk about not putting on some kind of nice-girl act. Was it any wonder he already liked her so much?

  “Okay, Mount Doom, here we come,” she said, taking his hand.

  It was cold out—very cold—yet neither of them wore gloves. His were tucked in his pocket, and he knew she had some, too, since she’d worn them when they’d first left the coffee shop. But neither of them had put them on once they’d left her ex’s place…once she’d taken his hand. Her fingers were icy cold, and he suspected his were too. But it was worth it.

  Slowly making their way through the crowds outside, they ventured into the hell that was called a toy store the day before Christmas Eve. The moment they entered, they were assaulted with heat and noise and color. Any kid would have thought they’d entered wonderland—the whole place was set up to inspire thoughts of childhood fantasy. Well, if your fantasy included being pressed jaw-to-jaw with strangers. Oh, and getting into the spirit of the season by elbowing each other to get closer to the front of the long lines at the cashier stations.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me!” she said when she realized it was worse than she’d predicted. Not a square foot of floor space seemed to be unoccupied. The merriment from outside hadn’t worked its way in here. These people were shopping like they were on a mission: Nobody gets between me and my Bratz dolls.

  “I think we’ve just entered shark-infested waters,” she said, raising her voice to be heard over the loud music and the general thrum of too many people packed in too small a space.

  “Stick close to me, minnow.”

  “Gotcha, big white. But please tell me this dinosaur you’re looking for isn’t the hottest toy of the season.”

  “Nah, that’s the Suzy Pees Herself and Drives a Monster Truck doll.”

  “My kind of girl. Uh, other than the peeing herself part.”

  “Whew!”

  Finally, after one too many stomps on her foot, Lucy reminded him she wasn’t the one shopping. She ducked into a corner and waved him off. Every time he caught sight of her, watching the hysteria that surrounded her, he noted the expression on her face—amusement, yes. But also, he suspected, relief that she didn’t have to actually be a part of this.

  Maybe one day she’d want to. One day when she didn’t have just her brother, and a single broken gift to look forward to for the upcoming holiday weekend.

  And me.

  Ross was reaching around a glowering man—who was arguing with a sharp-tongued woman over what was apparently the last Barbie doll in Manhattan—when that realization struck him. He was here, alone, with plans to do nothing more than eat Chinese food and watch National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation this weekend. And Lucy was going to be here alone, too.

  His mind didn’t go where it might have gone a year or two ago, when he’d been more focused on what happened at the end of a date with a girl than during it. He didn’t immediately picture the two of them naked under the mistletoe.

  Well, it wasn’t the only thing he pictured when he thought about spending Christmas with her. But mainly, he thought about seeing her smile, hearing her laugh, touching her soft skin and that amazing hair. Even if they spent the weekend pretending Christmas didn’t exist, he really wanted to spend it with her.

  After some hunting, Ross found the Robo-Raptor toy he’d been seeking. The thing was expensive, but, considering it would likely be late, he wasn’t going to quibble over the cost.

  Grabbing it, he made his way back to Lucy, finding her not too far from where he’d left her. She stood by herself, having found another quiet corner, and was gazing at a display in the games area. A huge Candyland display, with nearly life-size gingerbread men game pieces and tons of pink fluff that looked like cotton candy.

  Lucy’s expression was definitely wistful. As he watched from several feet away, she reached out and touched a large fairy-type doll—he couldn’t remember the name, it had been a long time since his board game days. Her hand shook slightly, but the touch on the pale blue hair was tender. Sweet. As if she were reaching out and stroking the gossamer wings of a beautiful memory that flitted in her subconscious. Having noticed the hint of moisture in her eyes, he suspected she was.

  As he approached, he noticed her reach up and swipe at her face with her fingertips, confirming that moisture had begun to drip. Ross dropped a hand on her shoulder. “You okay?”

  She nodded. Her voice low, she explained, “This is so pretty. I loved this game as a kid.”

  “I was more of a Chutes and Ladders fan, myself.”

  She barely smiled, and he regretted making light of it when something was on her mind.

  As if knowing he was curious, she admitted, “I used to beg my mother to play with me all the time. She ran the business with my Dad, and had more time at home than a lot of moms, so I assumed that meant she was mine 24/7.”

  “I think every kid feels that about their mom.”

  “Well, I was pretty relentless, and eventually we had to start negotiating. ‘Just let me finish this paperwork, and I promise we’ll play one game of Candyland.’”

  “Kinda like how my parents negotiated with me—eat one more green bean and you can have ice cream after dinner.”

  She nodded. “Exactly. I outgrew the game, of course, but one day when I was older, it occurred to me that every time we had played, I would always get the Queen Frostine card within the first couple of hands. So I always won.”

  He glanced at the board on display, seeing how close that particular character was to the winning space, and smiled slightly. “Quickly.”

  She laughed. “Exactly. I was a world champion Candylander. My mom was a world champion cheater for fixing the deck so I’d get that card and win the game super-fast every time.”

  “Did you confront her about it?”