Mistletoe Magic (2 page)

“You’re here! I was so afraid you might change your mind,” Louise Damon said in enthusiastic greeting before stepping back to let Melissa into the entryway. “Come in. Let me take your things.”

Melissa dutifully handed over the bag containing her street clothes and shoes before struggling with the jacket. In the dark area to the right she could make out a love seat, two chairs, and a reception desk, but Louise quickly took the garment from her and swept through a door that led to a long inner hallway. Melissa skipped a step to catch up with the taller woman. “Is she asleep?”

“I certainly hope so. Rafe lets Gretta stay up past nine only on special occasions. There’s a mirror over there if you want to check your hair or something.” Louise pointed to a long oval attached to the wall, then busied herself hanging Melissa’s jacket in the closet under the stairway. “By the way, Rafe is my son. He’s a well-known photographer,” she added proudly.

With a frown of concentration, Melissa carefully reformed the bent wire of her wings, which had been crushed beneath her down jacket. She fluffed her golden curls, but a quick glance at her makeup showed her she didn’t need to fool with it. All was intact, including the carefully penciled liner and generous smear of glossy pink lipstick that accentuated her cupid’s bow lips.

Then she turned her attention to Louise, noting the elegant way the burgundy and black caftan flowed around the older woman when she moved. “Do you live upstairs?”

“No. My quarters are on this floor in back of the studio and darkroom. I wanted my own space even after my husband died. I value my privacy. Rafe and the children live upstairs. Actually, the attic was done over for Gretta and Hank, so each of us has our privacy when we want it.”

“All this space is a real luxury for Manhattan,” Melissa said, thinking of the rambling house she grew up in and the contrast it provided to her cramped sixth-floor walk-up.

“We like it.” Louise began to climb the first set of stairs and motioned for Melissa to follow. “Shh. I don’t want to warn Gretta. I just hope we don’t run into my vocal son. I was going to tell Rafe about hiring you after Gretta was tucked in for the night, but he disappeared. Rafe had a long day and yawned all through dinner, so perhaps he’s in bed too.”

“I’ll tiptoe all the way,” Melissa promised.

Creeping along silently, she had only a glimpse of the softly lit second-floor space that combined the living and dining rooms.

“I’ll wait here,” Louise whispered, pressing a large coin into Melissa’s small hand. “Gretta’s bedroom is on the right at the top of the stairs.”

Melissa headed up the carpeted steps and approached the door on tiptoes, then checked the coin she’d leave under Gretta’s pillow. The shiny silver dollar winked at her as it reflected the soft stairway light. A bubble of excited laughter caught in her throat as she pictured the sleepy little girl’s pleasure when Gretta wakened to hear a story told by her very own tooth fairy.

Turning the knob slowly, Melissa winced when it clicked, then gritted her teeth when the door creaked open. She peered into the dark room, willing her eyes to adjust. A white-canopied bed dimly glowed with ghostly intensity against its shadowed surroundings. When she noted the form curled in it, Melissa was assured the little girl was unaware of her presence.

Clutching the silver dollar, she half-blindly maneuvered around the bed, biting her lip when her floating tulle skirt caught on the canopy post. Carefully, she removed the material, squinting hard at the lump under the covers as it moved, turned, and finally settled down with a muffled sigh. Barely able to make out the shape, Melissa frowned. The form seemed large for a toothless six-year-old. Gretta must be big for her age.

Stifling an excited giggle, she moved forward, ears attuned to the soft sounds issuing from beneath the covers as well as to the slightly irregular beat of her own heart. Was Gretta dreaming? she wondered. Very carefully, she reached out and leaned over the still form to slip her closed fist under the pillow, there to relinquish her precious treasure and search for the tooth. It was at that moment that the lump in the bed stirred once more, capturing Melissa’s delicate form with a solid, warm grip.

“Mmm, let me thank you properly for rescuing me,” a low, sleepy voice appreciatively crooned a hairsbreadth from her lips. Strong arms tightened and her tiny feet flipped up from the floor, throwing her hard against a very male chest.

“Oh!” Melissa’s cry of surprise was muffled by a warm, seductive mouth, and her thoughts became muddled by the unexpected yet tingling embrace. It happened so fast she didn’t think to resist at first.

Strong hands pulled her closer, making the flesh of her arms and back throb. Insistent lips caressed her own until they quivered and parted at the silent demand. Breathing in the heady scent of spice, Melissa was magically enticed by the seductive assault.

Then, gasping for air, she came out of her enchanted trance, suddenly horrified that she was kissing a complete stranger and enjoying it. What in the world had come over her? Her body tingled naughtily everywhere it touched his. When she struggled to free herself, flailing her arms and legs in protest, the tingling sensation intensified. She struggled more vigorously and managed to pull her lips free. Her rhinestone tiara dropped off her head and her fist came in contact with a solid object, then something flew to the floor with a loud crash.

“What the—” a deep voice growled beneath her.

“Please, let go of me!” she gasped from her perch atop him.

And then the door burst open and light flooded the room. Inanely, Melissa stared at her rhinestone tiara, which had fallen on a decidedly masculine brow.

“Daddy!” two young voices exclaimed.

“What happened?” Louise shouted, gasping as she reached the top of the stairs. “Oh, good heavens!”

Five pairs of eyes widened as the tableau froze for one interminable moment. Rafe Damon was the first to find his voice. “Who are you?” he demanded of the lovely creature who assaulted his senses.

Her face turned the same becoming shade of pink as her dress. “I’m, uhh—”

“The tooth fairy!” Gretta yelled, running to the bed. “Gran said she’d come! Let go of her, Daddy! You’re crushing her wings!”

The little girl hopped onto the bed and frowned at her father, who still cradled the human bundle in his arms. With a guilty start, Rafe pushed the tooth fairy away from his throbbing body and sat straight up. He scowled as the tiara flipped off his head, bounced off his chest, and landed on the bed as the golden-haired young woman slipped to the floor with a jarring thunk.

“Sorry,” he croaked, almost strangling on the word as he realized what had just transpired. One minute he’d been dreaming, the next hotly embracing a strange young woman.

“What are you doing in Gretta’s bed?” Louise asked faintly, looking from Rafe to Melissa, then back to Rafe.

Rafe rose quickly. He pulled his robe tighter, cinching the belt around his waist. “Gretta was afraid she’d have another nightmare, so I said I’d stay with her until she fell asleep.” He raked his fingers through his dark hair. “But I guess I fell asleep instead. I was the one who had a nightmare and thought she…uh, rescued me,” he muttered a little sheepishly.

“Gretta was in my room,” Hank announced. “We were playing video games with my computer.”

“Hank! You weren’t supposed to tell!” Gretta shouted at her older brother, getting to her pajama-covered feet and jumping up and down in the middle of her bed.

Rafe glanced down at the pink confection and into her cornflower-blue eyes. At his blatant perusal, she frowned and blinked fiercely, but didn’t look away.

“I believe this is yours.”

Rescuing the tiara from the threat of being trampled under his daughter’s feet, Rafe held it out. The lovely creature took the crown and fixed it in her soft curls. When her wavering smile dimpled her cheek, he felt an unwanted flush of heat sear him. Good Lord, what was wrong with him? She had to be in her early twenties, certainly too young for a man with two kids.

“Daddy, stop hogging my tooth fairy!” Gretta demanded. “I wanna play with her.”

Melissa tore her gaze away from the man’s dark eyes with heavy lids—sexy bedroom eyes, she thought uneasily—and turned to the girl, who was dressed in dark green one-piece pajamas. She was still standing in the middle of the canopied bed, her arms crossed over her chest. With her waist-length dark hair and long bangs crowding her puckered brows, she looked like an angry little elf.

“All right, sweetheart.” Rafe leaned over and kissed his daughter, then ruffled her bangs. “We’ll leave you and the tooth fairy alone.”

“Good.”

“I never had a tooth fairy,” Hank grumbled disgustedly as he was ushered out the door. “I had a deprived childhood.”

Hiding her smile behind her hand, Melissa guessed the boy, who was a smaller version of his father, must be all of eleven or twelve. Obviously, he was resenting the attention his little sister was getting.

“Are you a
real
tooth fairy?” Gretta asked in an excited whisper once the room was cleared.

Melissa’s lips twitched. “What do you think?”

Gretta smiled broadly, showing off her newest space where she’d lost the tooth. “I think we should pretend.” She used the bed as a trampoline once more. “You can be my very own tooth fairy for tonight. What can you do besides leave money under my pillow?”

“I can tell you a story if you get ready to go to sleep.”

Gretta trampolined down to her knees and scrambled under her covers. “About a fairy princess?”

“About a dragon!” Melissa said fiercely, inspired by the bedroom walls, which were painted like scenery in the pages of a storybook. “One who lost a tooth.”

“Yea! Was it a big dragon?”

“A big, cranky dragon who hated any kind of changes. When he lost his tooth, he wanted it back, no matter what.”

Melissa went on to tell Gretta about how unreasonable the dragon was and the tricks he played on the villagers until he found his tooth. Of course she made the heroine a beautiful little girl with dark hair and dark eyes who charmed the dragon so nicely that he gave her his tooth as a vase for her flowers.

“Was the little girl’s name Gretta?”

“I don’t know. The dragon didn’t tell me her name,” Melissa said, tucking the blanket under Gretta’s chin. “Now it’s time for you to get some sleep.”

“But I’m not sleepy. Besides, you can’t go yet. Daddy has to take our picture first, or else how am I gonna prove you were here when I tell my friends ’bout you?”

Noting the stubborn tilt to her chin, Melissa quickly acquiesced. Gretta raced out of the room to inform her father they were going down to the studio to have pictures taken. Seemingly over any embarrassment he might have felt at their accidental embrace, Rafe readily gave in to his daughter’s request. Louise came along to watch, but Hank refused to be any part of the project. He insisted he had some homework he’d forgotten about earlier, but Melissa could tell it was an excuse.

While Rafe Damon snapped pictures of her and Gretta, Melissa studied him surreptitiously, keeping her manner aloof. His dark bedroom eyes, which seemed to follow her every movement and analyze her every expression, certainly went with his attire. His black robe with a rolled white collar over white-on-white, pin-striped pajama bottoms enhanced his dark good looks—olive skin, black hair with a natural wave, and more dark hair sprinkled over the expanse of chest peeking through the robe’s V neck. And his body was pretty sexy, even if it was only five-seven or so. Actually, his reasonable height was appealing to a woman who often wore three-inch heels to give herself credibility.

He was attractive, Melissa reluctantly admitted, trying not to let his bold stare get to her. It unsettled her, made her feel as though he’d like to do more than take her in his arms and kiss her again—exactly the type of man she made a point to avoid.

“That’s it,” Rafe finally said, to Melissa’s relief. He turned off the photofloods and, looking at Gretta, added, “Bed for you, young lady.”

“Do I gotta?”

“Yes, you gotta!” But the fierce scowl he aimed at his daughter was softened by a crooked smile that sent gooseflesh crawling all over Melissa’s body. “Now, scoot.”

Gretta held up her arms and Rafe stooped so she could give him a big hug and kiss. “G’night, Daddy.” Then she went scampering away with her grandmother following.

“I’ll see that she gets tucked in,” Louise said. “And, Melissa, thank you for coming. You were wonderful and Gretta was as thrilled as I’d hoped.” The older woman slipped the agreed amount of money into the tooth fairy’s hand and whispered, “Sorry about the mix-up.”

“I enjoyed it,” Melissa admitted, then, because she didn’t want Louise—or Rafe, whose eyes now bored into her back—to think she meant the unexpected embrace, she quickly added, “I mean playing the tooth fairy for Gretta.” But Louise was already gone. At the amused male chuckle behind her, Melissa realized she was once more alone with the photographer, a situation not to her liking. She cleared her throat uneasily. “I’ll just get my things.”

As she started toward the closet, Rafe’s words stopped her cold. “Don’t rush off. It will take me only a minute to get out of my pajamas.”

Shocked at his blatant suggestion, Melissa whirled around. “Don’t you dare take them off!”