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I know I have to stop. I know this must seem insane to Natalie.
We don’t know each other, and now I’m confronting her boyfriend like I have a right to her.
But I do. Forever.
Even if she doesn’t know it yet.
I do have a goddamn right.
My whole body sears with possessiveness, with the carnal compulsion to make this woman mine.
He doesn’t get to touch her, this man, this nobody.
She. Belongs. To. Me.
All of this must be radiating from me, making my body expand as I let out savage breaths. The young man is cringing away from me, hands raised.
“Nick, he’s my brother.”
Natalie steps between us, staring up at me with hard eyes, with more certainty than I’ve seen in her all day.
It makes me think about what an incredible mother she’s going to make, the way she instantly stands up for her family, how loyal and perfect she is. It makes me think of the future we’re going to share.
Even if it makes no sense. Even if it should be impossible.
“Oh.” I laugh gruffly, taking a step back. “I didn’t… shit, kid. I’m sorry.”
Kenny looks up at me, still a little shaken up. “I-It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”
Natalie narrows her eyes. She’s about to ask me why I reacted like that, what the hell has got into me, or something. I can see the question shimmering in her eyes, trying to burst free, but then I turn and stride away.
“Hey,” she calls after me.
I don’t listen, stalking down the hallway, fists clenched as I tell myself I have to be strong. I can’t let these thoughts consume me, these crazy and ridiculous thoughts of claiming her and being with her forever.
Just because it’s Christmas it doesn’t mean I have to start believing in magic.
But as my footsteps echo all around me – louder now because the place is empty apart from a few employees – my thoughts flood with vignettes of Natalie and our family, our future.
Stop it, stop it, I snarl in my mind.
I can’t, though, not when I see her sitting in a snow white armchair with our baby cradled in her arms, smiling down at the little bundle with all the love in the world bursting from her expression. In the fantasy, she looks ready to face anything – together with me.
Then she looks up at me and smiles, and I let the dream disintegrate before it gets the better of me.
I wander back to Santa’s Wonderland, dropping into my chair and looking across at the food court.
They were sitting there all day, the bikers, with their leather jackets and tattoos, not even trying to hide what they were doing. A couple of them looked over at me throughout the day, through the business of the crowd, as though they wanted to start something.
But I guess they wouldn’t stoop to coming to blows with a mall Santa.
Which is good. Which is exactly what I want.
It’s the whole reason I’m here, to begin with.
So why can’t I stop thinking about Natalie?
Chapter Four
Natalie
I sleep even worse than usual, unable to stop thinking about the way Saint Nick charged in here and glared at Kenny like he was going to tear him to pieces.
Don’t touch her.
There was so much fire blazing from him, his strong jaw tense, his eyes flaring. For a second I thought he was going to grab me and kiss me, crush his lips against mine and make me feel every twitching movement. It was like he wanted to burn me up with his gaze.
Why didn’t he want Kenny to touch me before he learned he was my little brother?
My dreams are filled with Nick.
One second he’s looming over my bed, the Santa outfit stripped down to the waist to reveal his ripped torso, to reveal the gifts of his pecs and the hard outline of his abs.
And next, I see him standing next to a fire, posing for a photograph as Christmas lights flicker all around as our children gather close. I see him enveloping us all in his broad arms, hugging us close, feel his breath on my skin as my dreams torture and tantalize me.
I wake to Kenny softly shaking me, staring down with a pensive expression.
“Wakey, wakey, sis,” he says.
I sit up, yawning. Kenny comes and wakes me up before the rest of the staff members arrive, giving me a chance to tuck away my makeshift bed and pretend I’m not living in a freaking mall. Softly, I hear Christmas music coming down the corridor, as though beckoning from a happier land.
“You’ve got a visitor,” Kenny says.
“What do you mean?”
“That Santa guy. He saw me on the way in and said he wanted to speak with you.”
I look around. “So where is he?”
“Waiting outside. I said I needed to make sure you wanted to speak with him first. You know after he went all crazy and weird yesterday.”
