Save Me, Santa: A Chirstmas Anthology of Romance & Suspense (3 page)

* * *

Nick didn’t even notice when Zenon pulled his leash free and bounded into Emily’s apartment, chasing Pogo down the hall.

He was frozen to the spot, unable to move. Unable to think. Unable to draw breath.

“I, uh…”

His eyes were glued to the sight of Emily’s lush body, dressed—and he used the term loosely—in the most teasingly adorable nightie he’d ever seen in his life. Bright scarlet in color and trimmed with white silky fluff, it was mouthwateringly short, dangerously low cut, and not quite transparent but filmy thin. Embroidered across the front of her barely-there panties were the words “Santa’s Baby.”

“I’m…”
Speechless
.

His jeans were suddenly way too tight.

“Jeezus, Emily. You look—” He swallowed, trying desperately to get hold of himself. “I, uh, trust I’m not, uh, interrupting. Are you alone?”

Her smile broadened. “Not any more. Please, come in.”

He stepped into the apartment and lifted the bags and bottle he was carrying. “Hope you haven’t eaten. I, um, brought dinner.”

Her eyes sparkled mischievously as she leaned her back against the door and said in husky tones, “Excellent. I brought dessert.”

Surprise shimmered through him. It was like a Christmas fantasy come true. Could he possibly get so lucky?

Anticipation curled through his veins. But he wasn’t about to take any chances on misinterpretation. He took a step toward her. “You promised to call me.” But she hadn’t. Making her actions now all the more puzzling.

One bare shoulder lifted impishly. “I decided you were all wrong for me.”

He smiled at that. “Yeah. Me, too.”

Her cheeks dimpled. “And yet, here you are. Must be Fate.”

He nodded. “Must be. Because there you are. In that amazing outfit.” Her plump breasts were barely covered, the hard beads of her nipples clearly visible below the filmy fabric. He was already salivating. “Or maybe you were expecting company?”

She shook her head, letting her gaze drift appreciatively over his T-shirt, lingering on his jeans. “No. Hoping, maybe…”

He was still clutching the takeout bags and the bottle of wine. He didn’t dare put them down. Not yet. Or he wouldn’t be responsible for his actions.

He took another step toward her, bringing him within touching distance. But he didn’t allow himself to reach out, or lean forward. He just parted his lips and breathed in, filling his senses with the womanly scent of her, feeling the sensual warmth radiating from her body. He could hear the short, staccato intake of her breaths, and saw the pulse stutter at the base of her throat. A few strands of her hair fluttered in his slow exhale.

“I think we should eat,” he murmured, though there was nothing he’d ever wanted more than to take her in his arms and kiss her senseless, then bury himself deep inside her. “Before it gets cold.”

She moved a little, lifting her face, brushing her lips lightly over his. He felt them open a fraction, and the very tip of her tongue slid between the seam of his. He touched it with the blunt end of his tongue, gathering a swift taste of her before she withdrew.
Wine and woman
.

It was one of the most erotic gestures he’d ever experienced.

“What did you bring?” she asked, looking up at him with eyes the color of the Caribbean Sea. Not green, not blue, but somewhere in-between.

He nearly answered “A wallet full of condoms,” but caught himself just in time. Which reminded him. “I have your wallet. Someone found it on the street while we were chasing the dogs.” Which in turn reminded him of what they’d been doing.
Like he needed another visual
. “Don’t let me forget to give it to you.”

“Maybe I will,” she said softly, “so you’ll have an excuse to come back again.”

“I’m hoping I won’t need an excuse,” he said, wanting to kiss her so badly his throat ached.

She smiled and ducked past him, relieving him of the two takeout bags as she went. “This smells wonderful. There’s already a bottle of wine open. I’ll get you a glass and some plates. Make yourself comfortable.”

He doubted that was possible, considering the tightness of his chest… and his jeans.

Just then Zenon and Pogo galloped up, and he managed to halt the pair long enough to take off Zenon’s leash and give them the steak bones before they bounded away again.

“Will they be okay?” he asked.

“Sure.” Emily slanted him a sexy look. “She’s probably just showing him the bedroom.”

He returned a lazy smile and accepted the glass of wine she offered. “Keep this up, little girl, and you’ll end up on Santa’s
Extra
-Naughty list.”

She touched her glass to his. “That a promise, Santa?”

It was no use. He couldn’t wait another second. He threaded his fingers through her hair and tugged her toward him. “Oh, yeah,” he murmured. “You can take that to the North Pole.”

And then he kissed her.

Chapter 5

Emily woke the next morning with Nick’s warm, solid body curved against her back. She felt incredible—her mind was content, her flesh blissfully sated, and any doubts about her out-of-character choices last night gone forever. Nick was a wonderful lover and an even better man. She’d never felt so cherished in all her life.

And he was anything but boring. Big and strong, and all male. Just the presence of his badge and pistol on the nightstand gave her an unbidden thrill. If this was a taste of what it would be like with Nick in her life, well, maybe she’d been wrong about not wanting him in it.

Of course, who knew if he wanted her in his…

“Morning, sweetheart.”

Just the sound of his deep, sleep-roughened greeting sent streaks of arousal singing though her body. His arms tightened around her and she nestled back against him.

“Hi yourself. Sleep well?”

“Like a Yule log. You?”

She gave a happy sigh. “Never better.” She turned in his arms, and put hers around his neck. “Last night was—”

“Never better,” he completed with a kiss.

“Mmmm,” she agreed.

Several minutes later they were interrupted by a high-pitched canine yip and a loud bark.

Nick groaned, breaking their leisurely kiss. “Sounds like someone wants to go out.”

She puffed out a resigned breath. “Have I mentioned how much I hate dogs?”

“Really?” His brows went up and she realized he thought she was serious.

“No! I love dogs. Usually. But they can be a royal pain sometimes,” she said dryly.

He seemed relieved and gave her another kiss. Which was interrupted by a big, wet nose that poked between them, accompanied by a low
growf
. “Hey!”

They looked at each other and started to laugh.

Zenon put his paws on the bed and gave an annoyed bark.

“Oh, all right,” Nick grumbled, released her, and sat up, stabbing his fingers through his attractively disheveled hair. “Go get Pogo while I put on my pants and find the leashes.”

Emily was too busy admiring the view to notice that Zenon continued to whine and growf, until Nick frowned and said, “Jeez, what’s the matter, boy? Where’s Pogo?”

The big terrier barked.

Emily frowned, too, and scanned the room for the smaller white dog. “Pogo?” It wasn’t like her not to be right in the middle of things. “Pogo, come!”

No Pogo.

“What on earth…”

She lifted her robe off the bed post, but Nick had already hopped into his pants, grabbed his gun and badge, and exited the bedroom before she could even slide it on. She could hear him calling Pogo amidst Zenon’s excited barking.

Then she heard him swear roundly.

She ran out into the living room. “What is it?”

He was examining locks on the open door, his expression stormy. “I should be shot, that’s what.”

“Nick?”

He looked up, his face a portrait of self-recrimination. “We forgot to lock the door last night. I’m so sorry, baby. Pogo’s gone.”

* * *

Emily stared at Nick in disbelief. “What do you mean she’s gone? I don’t understand.”

She glanced around, thinking it had to be a joke. Some kind of weird cop humor that wasn’t remotely funny.

But sure enough, her little charge was nowhere to be seen. Zenon was visibly agitated, as though just as upset by his friend’s disappearance as Emily was.

Nick rose from his inspection of the door and stood with his hands fisted on his hips, scowling at the locks. “Was she valuable?”

“No, I don’t think so.” Emily tried to recall what Cindy had told her about Pogo. “Cindy got her from a friend whose mom got sick and couldn’t take care of her any more. Nothing special, as far as I know. I’m not even sure she’s a purebred.”

“Could the woman want her back?”

“Wouldn’t she just ask?”

“You’d think. All right, could Pogo have opened the door herself?”

Emily’s jaw dropped. “Are you kidding me?”

“I had to ask,” he muttered, and glanced around the living room. “Is anything else missing?”

She hugged her robe to her body as she turned in a slow circle and studied the shelves and walls. She shook her head. “I can’t be certain, but… I don’t think so.” She met his gaze. “Nick? What’s going on?”

He looked as perplexed as she felt. “Got me. Come on. Let’s get dressed and go look down on the street. Maybe the dogs surprised a would-be burglar and Pogo simply escaped while the door was open. What do you bet we find her crying down by the front entry?”

Emily nodded and rushed back to the bedroom to change. “I hope you’re right. She hasn’t taken her pill yet this morning.”

Nick appeared in the bedroom door. “Her pill?”

“She had a bad ear infection and she’s supposed to take her pills until they’re all gone. I think there are five or so left.”

She pulled on jeans and a blue turtleneck and noticed Nick was still staring at her. “What?”

“Do you happen to know the name of her vet?”

She blinked. “No. Why?”

“Where are the pills?” he asked.

“On the kitchen counter. What does that have to do with anything?”

But he’d already vanished. After ducking into the bathroom for a two-minute version of her morning routine, she hurried after him. She found him in the kitchen setting down the pill bottle, his mouth pressed into a thin line.

“What’s wrong?”

He shook his head. “Nothing. I’m just being paranoid. Come on, let’s go find Pogo.”

Zenon was already on his leash, so she grabbed Pogo’s and her purse, and they sped down the three flights to the outer entry.

Still no Pogo.

“Find Pogo, boy,” Nick told Zenon, but although the Airedale sniffed like crazy, he never gave an indication of finding Pogo’s scent. On the other hand, scenting wasn’t really his forte.

So they walked up and down the block, asking everyone they met if they’d seen a white dog, either wandering around lost or being carried off. No luck. They combed the surrounding blocks, as well, and came up with nothing.

“I should call all the area vets, in case she was brought in hurt,” Emily reluctantly said when they finally gave up.

“I’ll call animal control and the pounds,” he volunteered. But he looked distracted and antsy. Like he had other things on his mind.

She suddenly realized he’d spent half his morning helping her, and he probably had plans for his day that did not include her, or searching for a lost dog.

“That’s okay,” she said, reluctant to see him go—on many levels. “I can take it from here. I’m sure you have better things to do today. It was really nice of you to help this much.”

“I don’t know about better,” he said. To his credit, he looked torn. “But I did volunteer to do the Santa bit again for the Orphans and Widows Fund.”

She smiled through her worry. “Then you need to go. I can take it from here. Honest. Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me,” he said with a frown. “It’s my fault she’s gone.”

She shook her head. “There were two of us who forgot to lock that door.” Which made her think of last night and why they’d both forgotten. “I guess we were a little distracted.” She nibbled on her lower lip.

He stepped in close to her and touched her cheek, sweeping his fingers back through her hair. “Yeah. No excuse, but a helluva good reason.” He put his lips to her forehead. “Last night was incredible. I’m sorry it ended like this.”

Wow. That sounded final.

The moment stretched.

Well, what had she expected?

Okay…

“Me, too,” she managed, lowering her eyes so as not to give away the disappointment in them. “But don’t worry about it. I’ll find her,” she said, pretending to misinterpret.

“Yeah, I’m sure you will.” He pressed a kiss into her hair as she studied her shoes and fought off the irrational hurt.

Irrational because they’d both made it clear last night that they were all wrong for each other.

She’d known exactly what she was doing, and had proceeded at her own risk. Who would have guessed she’d change her mind so thoroughly by morning?

“Listen, Emily, I—”

No, she really didn’t want to hear his brush-off.

She stepped back from him and pasted on a bright smile. “It’s okay. I know you have to go now. Thanks again, Nick. For everything.” Unable to stop herself, she leaned up and brushed one final, light kiss over his lips. She drew in a last deep inhale of his musky, masculine scent, committing it to her sensory memory—to pull out on the dark, lonely, winter nights to come.

Then, steeling herself, she turned smartly and walked away.

“Emily!” he called after her.

She raised a hand and waved, though she didn’t dare turn around.

The last thing she needed was to hear his excuses.

And the last thing she wanted was for him to see the tears that filled her eyes.

Chapter 6

Nick watched Emily walk away, never more torn in his life. He knew he should let her go. It was pretty clear from her resolute departure that her experience last night must not have been the same as his. Not as profound. Not as life-alteringly good.

Every fiber of his being wanted to run after her and demand she give him a second chance. A second chance to lock that damned door. A second chance to make love to her. A second chance to insinuate himself into her heart so she couldn’t walk away, ever again.