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But Scarlett O’Neill of all people! Part of his contract means he knows who everyone is - or at least those who believed at some stage of their lives. And she did, for a few years at least.
Until her life changed and he couldn’t help her. Santa isn’t all about spreading Christmas cheer. It’s about breaking the hearts of too many kids who ask for the impossible.
He closes the locket and looks over at the remains of his sleigh. Who is he kidding? He has a job to do. A job that leaves little to no time for a relationship. And it’s not like it’s an easy job at that. He’s lost count of the number of times someone has tried to kill him. It’s nothing new.
No. The best thing he can do for Scarlett is keep away from her. As much as he wants to be with her, he’ll just have to resist - for her safety more than anything.
It’s a few days from Christmas and someone is clearly trying to take him out. Someone he needs to find and kill before they get to him. That’s all that matters.
4
Scarlett stares atthe same paragraph of text, the words still refusing to sink in, no matter how many times she reads them. She must be on the same page for the last ten minutes at least. She’s surprised Nick didn’t notice.
She lowers the book and walks over to the window. Through the snow, she can see his red silhouette near the trees. She doubts he’ll be able to find out much from the crash site until the snow stops. The wreckage is no doubt buried under a few feet of snow by now. But having a break from him is a strangely welcome relief.
Not that being in the same room as him is a bad thing. Far from it - and that’s the problem. They’d been together in the living room for about an hour before he left the cottage, and for that hour, she’d not read one single word of her book. Not one.
The whole time was spent stealing sneaky looks at him, before trying to focus on her book again. Which had been a total fail. Instead of reading, her mind had inserted Nick into some interesting scenes in her head. Mainly him naked on top of her, his impressive body against hers as he slides in to her pussy.
It was so wrong to have those thoughts, but she couldn’t help herself. And it’s not like he had been doing anything to distract her. He’d been stretched out on her couch, his legs hanging over the end. He’s far too tall for the couch, but the cottage only has one bedroom.
When she stayed here with her grandparents she slept on a camp bed. It’s still here in the store room, but would be much smaller than the couch. Maybe she should have offered him the bedroom? At least that way he would have been out of sight and out of mind.
She’d really tried not to stare at him, but she’d challenge anyone not to look at him. His red trousers, black braces, and white top is probably one of the sexiest outfits she’s seen on a guy. Then you add Nick himself to the mix, and it’s no wonder her book wasn’t holding her attention.
She checks her watch and curses to herself. It’s barely lunchtime. At this rate it’s going to be a long, frustrating day. At least if he’s out of the house for a while she can get a break from him. Having him here, feeling the way she does, it’s like she can’t breathe properly.
This is ridiculous! She goes back to her chair and focuses on her book again. Thinking like a hormonal teenager is just getting her all worked up.
Thinking about him is getting her all worked up.
Planning in detail how he’d walk over to her, all masculine and alpha male. How he’d strip her before she could argue... which she wouldn’t, then make her orgasm more than she’s ever done before.
She doesn't have thoughts like this. Years with her ex and she hadn’t had one naughty dream, or even a sexy thought about him. She’d never imagined him touching her the way Nick does in her mind. Never wanted him to take charge the way Nick is in her thoughts.
It’s the wine. This is what she gets for going for the cheap stuff.
