Mistletoe and Magic (15 page)

She craned her neck to point to the copper spires shadowing the quickly darkening sky. “Just over there.”

“The Pulaski Hotel?” Confusion clouded his gorgeous eyes. “But…” He looked beyond her and to the left, toward where she’d indicated. “You were going in the wrong direction.”

“Yeah, I…umm…made a wrong turn.” No way did she intend to correct any of his misconceptions. Her destination and how she got there were nobody’s business.

“Ah.” Understanding bloomed on his face. “You’re new to the city then?”

“Just arrived.” She shrugged the sliding backpack up on her shoulders. “Well, two hours ago anyway.”

He looked around where they stood on the busy sidewalk, gestured at the few people rushing by, then at her side where one would normally assume a significant other might hover. “You are alone?”

She sighed. Another explanation she didn’t want to share. “Long story.”

“Why don’t you tell me about it while Hunter and I escort you to your hotel?”

Alarmed, she scanned the nearly empty street and growing darkness. Talk about stupid. She’d just told a total stranger she was alone in a strange city. If this were a horror movie, she’d be Serial Killer Victim Number One. She held up her gloved hands and took a step back, out of arms’ reach. “Oh, you don’t have to do that. I’m fine, really.”

“It’s no trouble.”

“I’ll be fine on my own.”

“I insist. It isn’t safe for a lady to be alone after dark. And I know Hunter may seem like a lunk, but he is, usually, a fierce protector.” He shot a disgruntled look at the dog, and the beast lowered his head, as if in shame.

A smile twitched Polina’s lips, and she relaxed. He didn’t seem like a serial killer. Not that serial killers had a certain look, but he dressed in expensive clothes and…God, he smelled great! Like lime and sea breezes. When would she ever get another chance to walk beside someone so…clean?

“I’m actually heading in the same direction,” he continued. “And since you were already turned topsy-turvy before Hunter knocked you down, the least I can do is see you safely to your destination. I am Rhys, by the way. Rhys Linsey. See?” He reached inside his coat and pulled out an ID tag on a retracting coil that showed his name and photo beneath a logo for a well-known international banking organization. “Originally from the north of London, transplanted to Poland a few months ago.”

That explained his very British accent. “Polina Kominski.” She held out her hand to him, a gesture of friendship. “From…the United States.”

“Welcome to Krakow.” He took her hand and lifted it to his lips, placing a kiss on the soft brown leather.

Why hadn’t she taken off her gloves? She’d give up a lung to know what his mouth felt like against her bare skin.

“Come on.” Placing her hand on the sleeve of his cashmere coat, he allowed the dog with the goofy canine smile and guilty conscience to take the lead. “Tell me, Miss Kominski, what brings you here?”

Not Miss Kominski. Even her mother had never answered to that name, legal as it might have been. “Please call me Polina.”

“Polina.” Her name sounded like a purr when it flowed from his lips. “Why have you come to Krakow alone?”

How much to share with this stranger? As little as possible. While they crossed the street, she briefly explained her mother’s last wish that she come to Poland for Christmas. He offered condolences on her loss before giving her a little more info about himself. Rhys was an investment banker who’d transferred to Krakow to set up new operations, and he’d been in the city since July.

“Does your wife like the city?”

He chuckled. “No wife, no girlfriend. I, too, am alone here. Some might call it fate that we have found each other, Polina.”

Oh, cripes. She hadn’t expected someone so intelligent- and successful-looking to fall for that crap. “More like coincidence,” she stated.

“You don’t believe in fate?”

“My mother…” She swallowed the bitterness rising in her throat. “…was…a bit of a bohemian. She believed in magic and destiny and…”

“And so you don’t.” He made the statement without rancor or censure. “Do you know they call Krakow the ‘Magic City’?”

Polina surrendered to the sarcasm brewing on her tongue. “Of course they do.”

His chuckles, rich and throaty, spun her insides like a Tilt-a-Whirl. Outside the Pulaski Hotel, he stopped and took her hand again. “I would like to show you around the city, if you’d allow me, Polina.”

While her heartbeat galloped against her ribs, she deftly pulled out of his grasp. “Thanks, but no. I…umm…my mother has me on a strict schedule. See, she wrote out a list for me—stuff I have to do.”

He held up an index finger near her nose. “Ah, but if you have tasks to complete, wouldn’t it make sense to have a guide who knows the city?”

Yes. But not someone like him. “No, really, I appreciate it, but—”

“No buts. I insist. I’ll meet you here in the lobby tomorrow. How does ten o’clock sound? Is that late enough for you? I want to make certain you’re well rested and you’ve adjusted to the time difference.”

Like she had any hope of sleeping with thoughts of Rhys Linsey and magic littering her head. “Ten should be fine,” she managed to say. For some reason, she couldn’t breathe. She had to get away from him. She had no right to walk beside someone so polite, so sophisticated, so
normal
.

“Wonderful.” His smile lit up the night. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

Not if she could help it. “Right. Goodnight.”

Before he could continue their discussion, she dove into the revolving door and pushed her way into the hotel lobby. Her chest felt tight, and she ducked behind a tall ivory pillar until her breathing returned to normal. Around her, well-dressed people checked in at the gleaming mahogany counter. Massive sprays of flowers on pedestals interspersed throughout the lobby soaked the air with perfume, tickling her nose. Piano music played, a classical piece she didn’t recognize. God, what would it be like to walk into a fancy place like this and never question whether you belonged? Never have the staff look at you as if you were a cockroach?

Once she’d regained control, she exited the hotel. Back out on the street, she spotted Rhys’s broad back as he strode down the quiet street, the giant wolfhound loping beside him. When he disappeared into the night, Polina strode across the street to the hostel where her room waited. Forget dinner. She’d lost her appetite. With luck, she could grab a quick shower in the communal bathroom before hitting the dormitory bed she’d been assigned.

Last time, Mom
.

Chapter 2

Strolling away from Polina and her hotel, Rhys felt someone’s gaze watching his back. He had to fight the urge to turn around to see if Polina had returned to the sidewalk. When the stoplight at the next intersection turned red, he took advantage of the enforced pause to kneel and rub the wolfhound between the ears. “
Pozdrawiam
, Hunter.” Who would’ve guessed he’d have to thank this lumbering dunderhead dog for an early Christmas gift?

Hunter’s obvious affection-at-first-sight had only confirmed what the sudden adrenaline coursing through Rhys’s veins had indicated. Polina Kominski was someone special.

Two blocks later, they rounded the last corner. Stefan and his son, Cyryl, waited at the bottom of the marble steps of the bank’s main entrance. The ten-year-old boy sped forward, arms outstretched wide to accommodate his dog’s extra-large girth. “Hunter!”

Emitting a happy yip, the wolfhound yanked hard, attempting to reach the boy. Rhys wouldn’t be taken in by the dog’s exuberance and kept a tight grip on the leash until he was close enough to hand control over to Stefan, his friend and business associate.

“
Pozdrawiam
, Rhys.” Stefan took the leash while Cyryl knelt to hug the dog.

“Actually,” Rhys replied with a grin. “I might owe you the thanks, Stefan.”

Stefan arched a shaggy gray brow. “Oh?”

“I think your dog just introduced me to my future wife.”

“Really?”

Really. Yes, he knew how ridiculous that statement sounded. Under normal circumstances, if someone else had just made that announcement, he’d be the guy laughing loudest. But if Stefan intended to make him feel foolish, he’d failed miserably. Rhys hadn’t lied when he’d told Polina he thought fate had brought them together.

All his life, he had relied on gut instinct to guide his decisions. That certain tingle on the back of the neck, a spark in his blood, or the sudden flip of his stomach as if he rode a roller coaster were all signs that he stood on the edge of something new and amazing. Something life-changing. Through that constant faith in himself, he would sense the right moment for anything, which allowed him to gamble almost recklessly, a distinct benefit in his career. Knowing when to buy and when to trade any commodity made
him
a hot commodity at work. He’d never lost. Oh, sure, he’d come close a few times, but that subtle shift in the air always led him to the precipice then rocketed him off to soar into the stratosphere. Now, that very same magic had surrounded his meeting with Polina. Whether she wished to believe it or not.

“Who is she?” Stefan asked.

“Polina Kominski, a tourist from America.”

“America? You couldn’t find a local girl?”

Rhys shrugged. Where she came from didn’t matter. What mattered was where they went from here. Together.

The minute he saw her, sprawled on the sidewalk with Hunter’s paws pinning her, Rhys knew. It was as if he’d been struck by lightning. Every sense jolted to full alert, attuned to her sweet face, her baby blue eyes and strawberry blond hair. “She came around the corner by Jarek’s Bakery, and Hunter knocked her down. The thing is, she was walking toward Hunter’s bark,
away
from her original destination.”

Stefan’s face took on a skeptical scowl. “And?”

“And what? You know what that means.” So did he.

Despite her statement to the contrary, Polina must believe in magic to turn
away
from the direction of her hotel and walk toward the sound of a barking dog. That fact alone would have charmed Rhys into wanting to spend time with her. Not everyone knew the Old World superstitions, much less paid them heed. But he knew—not from personal experience, but because his company had provided him with, among all the financial information, a book that explained most of the local customs. Stefan’s wife, Agata, had filled in the blanks for him.

According to legend, when a woman walked in the direction of a dog’s bark at Christmastime, she would then meet up with her future husband. How fortunate for him that he’d opted to let Stefan stay with Cyryl while he chased Hunter when the wolfhound had escaped his leash.
Fate
. No one could fight destiny.

“Rhys.” Stefan sighed dramatically, as if explaining quantum physics to Cyryl—in ancient Sanskrit. “You know that particular legend pertains to Christmas Eve. The woman who leaves a home after Christmas Eve dinner and follows a dog’s bark will meet her future husband along the way.”

Rhys dismissed the doubts with a wave of his hand. “Yes, but, since neither Polina nor I are Polish natives, I think we can allow for some leeway in the legend.”

Stefan doubled over with laughter. “If you say so, friend. God help you, I don’t know who I feel sorrier for—you or your new
ukochana
. Tell me, did she feel the thunderbolt the way you did?”

No. But she was in mourning, jetlagged, and probably too numb to notice the electricity between them. She’d told him her visit to Poland was her mother’s deathbed request—to spend the holidays in Krakow. So she’d be here for Christmas.

He turned his attention to Stefan again. “Your wife’s still hosting
Wigilia
this year?”

“Did someone revoke your invitation?” Stefan retorted.

“Nope. Just checking.” Rhys couldn’t fight the smile playing over his lips. He wondered if Polina knew the tradition of the extra plate at
Wigilia
, Christmas Eve. As expected, he’d spend the holiday with Stefan and his family. Agata would, as tradition dictated, set an extra place at the
Wigilia
table, in anticipation of an unexpected guest. Thanks to Rhys, Polina would be that unexpected guest, heralding good fortune to Stefan and Agata for the coming year.

Polina Kominski. He couldn’t wait to see her again.

Which explained why he wound up outside the hotel at nine-thirty the following morning. Since it was too soon to have the front desk ring her room, he settled in an overstuffed wing chair in the lobby. He managed to sit for all of thirty seconds before he popped up to pace the marble floor. Just thinking about seeing her again had him twitchy. He turned to stare out the bank of windows that opened onto the street. That’s when he spotted her. On the sidewalk outside the hotel, walking away from him. How she had managed to elude him, he couldn’t fathom, and he didn’t waste time trying to figure out her Houdini act. He shoved his way around the revolving doors and popped up directly in front of her.

On a high-pitched gasp, she jumped back. “Rhys.”

With a wide grin, he stepped closer to her. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were trying to run away before I got here this morning.”

A rush of pink bloomed in her cheeks. While the cold air might have caused the color, he believed the blush came from guilt that he’d caught her making her escape.

She narrowed her eyes. “What are you doing here so early?”

“Would you believe me if I said I camped out here in the lobby all night?”

Her laughter tickled his spine. “No.”

God, he loved a challenge. How would it feel to wake up with this woman every day? Like coming home. Every day, every night. He stared at her face as, in his mind, days turned to months, months to years. He could picture her smiling while they shared meals, laughing at the antics of their children, turning to him for solace in times of grief, consoling him when he sought comfort from her. Theirs would be a love story to share—to be told to their children and their grandchildren—starting now.