Mistletoe Magic (14 page)

“Don’t we have enough food already?” Melissa asked.

He looked at the kitchen table, generously spread with danishes, fruit, sausages, and toast. “I’ll eat two of these omelets, okay? And go ahead and look for the coffee cake. I’m hungry. How about mixing the orange juice so we can add same champagne to it? Bubbly brew makes any meal romantic.” He gave her a meaningful glance along with his slow smile.

She laughed, the happy sound reverberating against the walls like so many tiny Christmas bells. At least that’s how her voice sounded to Rafe. And Melissa looked absolutely ravishing as she stood there in his kitchen clad in nothing but his dark blue terry robe and the earrings he’d given her last night. The gaping front of the garment revealed part of one rounded breast while the side slit exposed a pretty leg to mid-thigh. Warmth rose within him, prompting him to say gruffly, “Come here, little fairy.”

She backed away from him, laughing. “You’re going to burn your omelet!”

“Oh, right.” Reluctantly he turned back to his cooking and scooped the omelet onto a plate. By that time Melissa was adding water to the frozen orange juice. She said mischievously, “You should pay attention to your work or you might end up like the elf that got into trouble with Santa Claus.”

“What elf?” he asked, setting the plate on the table and heading for the refrigerator to get the champagne.

“Well, it was like this,” Melissa began, opening her eyes wide. “Once upon a time, there was a very naughty elf. He always wanted to do what pleased him and he didn’t care about anyone else. Instead of making toys for Christmas, he constantly thought about romance.”

“What’s so bad about that?”

“He fell in love with a beautiful ballerina doll and neglected his job to spend hours trying to cast a spell that would make her come alive. Finally he succeeded in finding the right combination of magical words that turned the doll into a living, breathing woman. And then,”—Melissa paused for emphasis as she handed Rafe the orange juice—“the ballerina became totally mad for her elf.”

“Sounds wonderful to me.”

“But their love affair made him neglect his work even more. He didn’t finish his projects on time and he also packaged the wrong toys for the wrong kids for Christmas.”

“Aw. Couldn’t they understand the circumstances?”

Melissa shook her head seriously, although he thought the corners of her mouth were turning up. “No, the kids couldn’t understand it and neither could Santa. He had to fire the elf and what’s worse…”

“Yes?”

“The ballerina was
insatiable
. At first the elf liked her attentions, but then he began to worry. She wouldn’t let him out of her sight! When he ran away to get some rest, she chased him down the road, she tracked him through the forest, and she followed him across the meadow. Finally she tackled him and knocked him down in a field of daisies. The lovely ballerina couldn’t get enough of that elf and, boy, was he tired! Would you like to hear the details? About what she made him do?”

“Now, wait just a minute. I thought this was one of your kids’ stories. It seems a little racy for eight-year-olds. Are you trying to turn me on? I can’t be responsible for what I might do.”

Melissa merely smiled. “They rolled around in the flowers and she removed her ballet slippers and her dancing skirt. Then she took off his little green Jacket and his little green pants—”

“That’s enough!” he cried, interrupting her and putting down the champagne bottle to give chase. Squealing with delight, she ran around the table, Rafe close behind. He caught her in his arms easily, leaning her back over the wooden tabletop, one of his hands finding its way inside the robe to cover a breast.

“Rafe! I’m lying on a plate!” she exclaimed, squirming beneath him. But her nipple pressed invitingly against his palm.

“Good! I’ve always wanted to have a sugarplum fairy for Christmas brunch.” Rafe covered her mouth with a kiss.

“Good heavens! What’s going on up here? Oh!” Louise exclaimed, stopping to stare as she came in the door. “Excuse me!”

Melissa tried to pull the front of the robe back together as Rafe discreetly removed his hand. Both were breathing a little heavily as he released his hold and helped her to stand.

“I didn’t mean to intrude,” Louise apologized, smiling. “I was coming up for breakfast, but I’ll make some coffee downstairs.”

Feeling embarrassed, Melissa looked hesitantly at Rafe. “We have plenty of food,” she offered.

“We certainly do,” he agreed, his serious expression changing to a broad grin. “Come on and join us, Louise. We were, um…laughing at a joke.”

“I can go back down.”

“Nonsense,” Rafe told his mother, pulling out a chair. “Sit. I’ve made enough food for ten people. And we’ve got enough bubbly for a crowd too. Come on and toast the jolly season with champagne and orange juice.”

“Well, if you insist.”

Soon they were all laughing and talking as they ate. Once over her initial discomfort, Melissa thought Louise seemed to be warmly accepting and was happy the woman said nothing about her unusual attire. If anything, Louise acted genuinely pleased to see her. Was his mother giving her unspoken blessing to their relationship?

“So, did you and Charles have fun at the party last night?” Rafe asked Louise.

“Charles was charming as usual,” she told him. “And the party was very amusing. I didn’t get home until 4 a.m.”

“I wondered why you got up so late today,” Rafe teased, neglecting to add that he himself had been up for only an hour. “Was anyone there I know?”

“Oh, yes. Jack and Diane asked about you. Shirley said to give you season’s greetings. And, of course, Hux was there parading around with an outrageously thin redhead—probably a model. He was showing everyone how to do some torrid Caribbean dances and wishing them ‘Bah humbug.’ You know Hux.”

“He always likes to be the wild one at a party,” Rafe explained to Melissa as he poured her more champagne and orange juice.

“And he enjoys being a professional cynic,” said Louise, laughing. “He was telling everyone about the trouble he had with some neighbors in his apartment building this year. It seems Hux put out a ‘Bah humbug’ sign and decorated it with yellow and purple lights.”

“The other tenants didn’t like it?” Rafe asked.

“Hardly. They demanded he remove the sign. Hux said he was surprised. His neighbors are never personally concerned with him and they probably wouldn’t move a finger if he was being attacked or robbed. Why should they care about his silly sign? It didn’t hurt anyone.”

“I guess some people are sentimental about holidays,” Melissa offered, remembering her theory about Hux. She was sure he acted cynical and repressed his sentimental feelings because he had no one with whom to share a good old-fashioned Christmas. He probably put up the sign to get someone to notice him. Looking at Louise and then back at Rafe, she was happy she had some loving companions with whom to celebrate.

And what fun they could plan for the next few days! Perhaps they might even celebrate all week. As soon as Louise left for her quarters to prepare for dinner with Charles’s family, Rafe and Melissa excitedly discussed their plans.

“Tomorrow, let’s go to the photography show at the Museum of Modern Art,” suggested Rafe, placing an arm around her.

“And out to dinner afterward,” Melissa said, leaning toward him.

“And let’s go dancing after dinner.”

“That would be wonderful.”

“We’ve got to make up for lost time. Ahem.” Rafe lowered his lashes sexily. “I hope we don’t get arrested. I don’t know if I can stop myself from removing your clothes on the dance floor.”

Melissa laughed as he nuzzled her chin, his fragrant breath smelling of champagne. “As long as we’re together, I’ll risk jail.”

“And we can still go out of town if you want. I’ve got a shoot on Friday, but it won’t take long. How about driving up the coast like I suggested before? You really
are
on vacation this week, right?”

She could tell he was being careful. She’d been hurt the last time he’d mentioned leaving town—but that had been because he’d seemed so close-minded about her work situation. Pleased Rafe was being sensitive now, she hastened to assure him, “I’m absolutely free.”

“Wonderful,” he said, drawing her closer.

Then the phone rang. Glancing toward the instrument on the kitchen wall, he grumbled, “Who can that be?” As he rose to answer it, he turned back to Melissa. “Say, what time is it? Two o’clock?” Eyes suddenly alight with expectancy, he reached for the receiver, explaining, “It must be the kids!”

“Hello? Hank? Merry Christmas! How are you doing?…Put Gretta on, will you?…Huh?” Melissa watched his smiling face grow serious. “Wait a minute…slow down. What happened?” Scowling, he asked abruptly, “Is your mother there? I want to talk to her. Don’t worry, Hank, everything will be all right.”

Although she couldn’t hear the other side of the conversation, Melissa gathered that something had gone wrong with the children or their trip. Filled with concern, she hoped neither Gretta nor Hank was hurt.

“Nicole?” Rafe said, pausing as the other person spoke. “It’s an emergency? Why? Doesn’t your employer have any respect for your family responsibilities?” His dark eyes seemed to snap with anger. “What about the kids’ feelings?…Well, okay, I guess I understand. What flight will they be on?…Put Hank back on, will you?…Son, I’ll see you and Gretta tomorrow. And don’t worry, we’ll have fun here anyway. I’ll try to get tickets for a show for Friday. And you’ve got lots of nice presents here, you know.”

Were the children actually coming home? And were the tickets for Friday of
this
week? What about the other plans she and Rafe had just been making? Melissa quickly decided to withhold her questions until she knew exactly what was going an. After hanging up Rafe looked so dejected she rose to comfort him.

Holding her loosely against him, he said, “This changes everything. You must have heard—the kids are coming home tomorrow night. There’s an emergency with Nicole’s sales job and she has to travel for a week. She sounded upset, although I’m always suspicious about her emergencies. Now we won’t be able to go to the photography show and we certainly can’t go out of town.”

“I’ll be happy to help you take the kids somewhere,” Melissa suggested.

He seemed hesitant. “Thanks, but in circumstances like these, it’s better if I deal with them alone. They’re very upset. When they get home they’ll have to talk it out with me. Let’s not make any definite plans for going out together now. Why don’t I call you?”

She was silent as he looked down at her. “I’m sorry. I’m sure you understand I’ve got to make it up to them. I want my kids to have good memories of family and Christmas when they grow up.”

“I understand.”

Rafe released her to search for the newspaper that listed the times and prices of the Ice Capades, then called to ask about the availability of tickets for Friday. Since he didn’t ask Melissa if she wanted to go, she knew she might not hear from him until the weekend.

When he got out a pile of catalogs to look at computer modems, Melissa went to the bedroom to dress, all the while sadly wondering if she’d have any more holiday time with Rafe at all. When would he call her? She’d said she understood his devotion to his children and she’d been telling the truth. But why couldn’t he include her in outings with them? And couldn’t she and Rafe continue with a few outings of their own, alone? He didn’t need every minute with his kids, did he? Wasn’t he willing to fit her in somewhere?

“Melissa,” Rafe said as he entered the bedroom to find her zipping up her pink tulle fairy dress. “What do you want to do tonight? Shall we go out? Would you like to stop at your place and change clothes first?”

“I’d like more comfortable clothing,” she admitted as he put his arms around her. “But there’s not much to do on Christmas Day.”

“We’ll either find an open restaurant or I’ll make you a fabulous dinner.”

“Sounds good.” She nestled her head against his chest, willing herself to forget her disappointment about the abrupt cancellation of their holiday plans. At least they would have this one night together. And she’d feel guilty if she let herself actually be resentful of two children.

Chapter Eight

“What’s a wicket stepmother?” Gretta asked, startling Melissa as she was tucking the girl into bed. Though Gretta looked at her with wide innocent eyes, the question was loaded.

“A wicked stepmother?”

“Uh huh. Hank said he didn’t want no wicket stepmother, but Daddy might get one anyhow. Hank wouldn’t tell me what it was.” Gretta frowned, making her dark brows draw together. “He told me to read the fairy-tale book you bought me for Christmas, but I don’t read so good yet.”

Trying to keep her voice light, Melissa said, “When a father gets remarried after his wife dies or after a divorce, his new wife is called a stepmother. She’s like a second mother to his children. In fairy tales sometimes the stepmother is mean and nasty and makes the kids miserable. That’s why she’s called a wicked stepmother. But that’s only a story, sweetie. Lots of stepmothers love their husbands’ children very much, just like they’re their own.”

“Well, I don’t want a wicked stepmother either.” Gretta’s dark eyes filled with tears. “You don’t think Daddy will get one, do you?”