Mistletoe Magic (3 page)

His lips quivered and his eyes lit as he insisted, “I can’t see you home dressed like this. I might get arrested.”

What a blunder! Flushing, she realized Louise must have asked Rafe to see her home safely while Melissa told Gretta the dragon story. And yet, she thought suspiciously, wasn’t the photographer’s expression speculative, sort of like a dragon contemplating its next tasty morsel?

“Don’t worry about it.” Melissa backed up nervously. No man had ever looked at her in quite that way before, and she wasn’t sure she liked it. “You don’t have to take me home.”

“Of course I do if I want to make sure you get there safely,” he said, advancing on her. “This city is dangerous at night.”

Rafe was the one who looked dangerous, Melissa thought, noting his slow smile and bemused expression, the invitation in his dark eyes. She’d probably be safer going home alone.

“How are you planning to get home anyway? By flying?” His bedroom eyes roamed over her wings as Rafe moved closer, practically forcing Melissa to back into the closet. “You’re such a cute little fairy. Dainty wings, dainty feet, dainty mouth…”

His face only inches away, Melissa was sure he was going to kiss her. Whirling around, she found her jacket and bag and pushed by him. “I’ve got to get going.” She tried to keep her voice steady, unlike the unexpected thundering of her heart. She couldn’t believe the man had the nerve to try to make a pass at her! If he weren’t a friend of her boss, she’d tell Rafe Damon a thing or two.

Before she could get her jacket on, he reached out and touched the wire and net wings. “How is this costume put together anyway? Are the wings attached or do they come off first?”

That did it. Did Rafe Damon think his blatant come-on was sexy or something? “Stuff it, Mr. Damon. I’m leaving
now
.”

Struggling into her jacket, she stormed out of the building, ignoring his earnest, “Melissa, wait a minute, please!”

Melissa couldn’t believe the man had made her lose her temper so quickly. She’d been raised to think the best of people, to stay out of arguments, and not to say anything if it weren’t something nice. She’d learned her parents’ philosophy so well they had called her their “little angel,” although her best friend had given her the disgusting nickname of “Goody Two-Shoes.”

Already feeling guilty and highly resentful that Rafe Damon had so easily made her cross her principles, Melissa huffed her way over to Christopher Street, where she flagged down a taxi she really couldn’t afford.

Chapter Two

Catching the eight-by-ten prints as they fell from the rotating drum of the dryer, Rafe carefully laid the black-and-white glossies of Gretta and her tooth fairy on the counter. He examined them closely.

His daughter was a real imp, he thought proudly, smiling at her various expressions. She’d really hammed it up, alternately smiling, frowning, and sticking out her tongue. In contrast, the tooth fairy was mostly aloof in front of the camera, seeming to have her mind on other things. But there was one shot in which she’d looked straight into the lens, and the expression in her eyes made his blood sizzle.

Whew!

Melissa Ryan. Louise had told him that was the tooth fairy’s real name. Staring down at the photo in his hand, Rafe cursed softly as he vainly tried to control his masculine reaction to her fragile, innocent beauty. The other night he’d been unable to stop himself from teasing her unmercifully until she’d lost her temper. Then, when she’d run out onto the street, he’d felt guilty.

To be truthful, what he’d really wanted to do was take Melissa in his arms to kiss her again.

Rafe hit the counter with the flat of his hand. That was the problem! He wanted to kiss her even now, but, dammit, she was too young for him. Yet he couldn’t help being attracted to the golden-haired, blue-eyed doll who’d accidentally landed in bed with him. For the past two nights he’d had a rough time sleeping; he couldn’t eradicate her magical image from his mind.

Rafe had never thought of himself as one of those men who tried to recapture his youth by courting some pretty young thing. But wasn’t that precisely what his mind—not to mention his body—was telling him to do? How ridiculous. He was a thirty-two-year-old man lusting after a younger woman who was probably right out of college. How old could Melissa be? Twenty-two? Ten years made a big difference, especially when two kids were involved.

Still, Rafe regretted scaring Melissa away as he had. His actions had been uncharacteristic. He’d probably come on to her so strong because he’d had a hard day and one drink too many to relax. That or frustration must be warping his hormones. Maybe he ought to start visiting singles bars to find a woman his own age. Rafe tried not to cringe in distaste. He’d tried that scene a few times after he’d gotten over the betrayal of his divorce, but while he’d come away from the short-lived encounters physically gratified, he’d been left emotionally empty.

When friends had fixed him up on blind dates, he hadn’t been any happier. Besides, not many women seemed to be in the market for a ready-made family—at least not the women he’d met.

Why couldn’t he meet a mature, charming, affectionate woman who had a good sense of humor and liked children? Rafe wondered. Was that so much to ask? Although they weren’t part of his requirements, it wouldn’t hurt if she had golden hair and blue eyes and was small enough to look up at him…

A bang at the door brought him out of his reverie. “What’s up?” he shouted, thinking it was Louise.

“It’s me. Hux. You developing?”

Guiltily, Rafe gathered the photos into a neat pile and turned them upside down on the counter. “I’m finished. Come on in.”

“Hey, you old son-of-a-gun,” Hux greeted him with enthusiasm, clapping him on the back. “Long time, no see!”

“Don’t worry, you’ll see me plenty at Haldan-Northrop tomorrow,” Rafe said, referring to the photo layout of Santa’s Workshop he’d been contracted to do.

“Yeah, but what’s life coming to when you can’t find time to make arrangements with me personally? Now you send Louise to do your dirty work.”

“I thought you liked Louise.”

“Hey, pal, I love your mother. I have since you brought me home for Christmas vacation the year my parents were in Switzerland,” Hux said, referring to their college days.

“With the holidays coming up, I’ve got too many bookings to attend to all the preliminary work.”

“Ah, success.” Hux perched his lean, well-tanned body on a stool next to Rafe’s work counter and stretched out his long legs. “Does anything smell sweeter?”

“You tell me.”

“How about a woman’s perfume? That’s why I stopped by. I want you to come to Limelight with me tonight. The ladies who frequent the place are nothing short of spectacular.”

“Hux, don’t you think a nightclub in a former church seems a little…tacky?”

“Nah, not when it’s done in good taste, which it is. All the beautiful people agree.”

And he was one of them. With a decent amount of money, a classy style, and fair good looks, Huxley Benton was considered quite a catch. A perennial bachelor, he planned to stay that way, and Rafe had no doubts that he would. His friend enjoyed the single life to the fullest, and he couldn’t imagine Hux tied down to one woman or to kids, whom the pseudocynic professed to hate.

“I’m going to pass on this one,” Rafe told him firmly. “I need my beauty rest so I can do a great job for you tomorrow.”

“Okay, if that’s the way you want— Hey, what’s this?” Hux had elbowed the short stack of photos, then had lifted one to look at it. His eyes lit with recognition and he whistled. “Wow. That sugarplum fairy is some doll, huh? Do I know how to pick them or what?”

Rafe bristled at his friend’s wolfish tone and grabbed the photo out of Hux’s hand. It was the one with
the
expression.

Hux merely picked up another of the prints and inspected it more closely. “You know, the kid’s got something.”

“Forget it. She’s too young for you.”

Hux looked puzzled, then shrugged. “Hey, you know I don’t mix business with pleasure. I’m interested professionally. I want you to do some test shots for me. Maybe I could use her at the store in some future promotions.”

Rafe had been prepared to deal with Melissa Ryan at Santa’s Workshop for the photo layout, but working with her alone? That’s all he needed.

“Listen, Hux, you’d better get someone else. I’ve already got so many appointments booked—”

“Rafe, you owe me one. Remember the Baby Bountiful ads I threw your way last month? Do me this favor and we’re square.”

With a deep sigh, knowing his tenacious friend wouldn’t give up until he did, Rafe agreed, smiling to himself as he remembered Melissa’s charms. “All right. I know when to say uncle.”

Hux took the print back out of Rafe’s hand and smiled wolfishly, showing perfect white teeth as he studied it. “Look at that expression! This little pink sugarplum fairy’s got something all right. And I want you to get it for me.” He winked one green eye. “In photographs, that is.”

Rafe looked forward to seeing Melissa Ryan in spite of his reservations. When he got her alone in his studio—well, a little flirtation couldn’t hurt anything, could it?

“How come you’re not excited about this photo session?” Arlene asked Melissa as they changed into their costumes. “Our picture might be in
The New York Times
!”

“Maybe I’m coming down with the flu,” Melissa told the black woman, sniffling for effect as she slid her feet into pink satin slippers.

“’Tis the season.”

Actually, she was in a funky mood this morning, but it had nothing to do with her health. She’d spent another restless night wondering how long it would be before she’d get to sleep. What in the world was wrong with her?

“I’m ready to go down to the Workshop. Are you coming?” she asked Arlene.

“You kidding? Does this face look like it’s ready? If I’m gonna be in pictures, I gotta prepare, honey.”

Melissa shook her head at Arlene’s dramatics as she left the women’s dressing room.

“Ho-ho-ho!” The booming voice was followed by a jolly red-clothed body. “If it isn’t my favorite sugarplum fairy. And what do you want for Christmas, little one?”

“Why, Santa!” Melissa looked up past the white beard to Clarence’s rosy cheeks and nose. She hoped the color was merely makeup. “Umm, how about…financial stability and romance?”

“Granted!” he said in character, then switched to his real self. “I’d do anything I could to make your wishes come true, Melissa. It’s not often someone comes to the aid of an old reprobate.”

“Oh, Clarence, I didn’t do anything but give you some advice.”

“That in itself is precious, my dear girl. I need this job desperately, and you convinced the others to give me a second chance before ratting on me. Terry told me,” he said, referring to Melissa’s neighbor and their mutual friend who played the green elf. “You’re a ray of sunshine in a cold, cruel city. A jewel amidst paste. A rose among the thorns.” Bowing sharply from the waist, he took her hand and kissed it, reminding Melissa of Terry’s claim that Clarence fancied himself a leading man. “Consider me in your debt.”

Embarrassed by his effusive thanks, Melissa blushed. Had a few sincere words meant so much to the man? She’d always thought Clarence’s antics were a humorous facade, anyway—a bid for attention from a lonely old man—but she’d never taken him seriously.

“Don’t be silly. A simple thank you will do.”

“Hardly, my girl, hardly. Hmm. You yearn for financial stability? With your looks, you should be able to get ads, perhaps commercials.”

“I’m not a model or an actress. I’m a teacher.”

“Don’t worry. I can help you find an agent who won’t hold that against you.”

“An agent? Where?” asked Terry, catching up to them just as they stepped on the escalator that would take them down to Santa’s Workshop. He leaned over and used a loud stage whisper to inform Melissa, “No self-respecting agent would let Clarence in his office these days.”

“Bah humbug!”

Melissa snorted at Clarence’s out-of-character line and at the resulting bickering. Those two were always picking on each other, but she wasn’t worried that the verbal battle would erupt into a physical one. She knew Terry and Clarence had been good friends for a couple of years, ever since they were extras in a fast-food-chain commercial.

Melissa realized she felt comfortable with these two men because their good-natured banter reminded her of Andy and Luke. A wave of nostalgia hit her when she thought that this would be the second Christmas in a row she wouldn’t be able to spend with her two younger brothers. And who knew where Andy would be next year after he graduated from college? There weren’t many jobs for industrial engineers in Pennsylvania these days. Her good mood plunged downward with the descent of the escalator.

But Melissa didn’t have time to feel sad. A minute later she stepped off the escalator and into Haldan-Northrop’s magical Christmas kingdom.

Santa’s Workshop was aglow with light even though it was early morning. Toys were creatively displayed in elegant groupings around giant papier-mâché representations. There was the doll house with its new and antique dolls, the polar bear with its stuffed toys, the locomotive with its train sets, and the rocking horse with its smaller counterparts.