Her Mistletoe Husband (15 page)

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Authors: Renee Roszel

BOOK: Her Mistletoe Husband
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“I'll go with you.” Lucy reached for her purse. “I want to visit the ladies room.”
Jack circled the table to help her from her chair. Before Elissa knew it, Helen joined Lucy, and Damien said something about calling the baby-sitter. When Elissa started to get up to go with her sisters, Helen placed a firm hand on her shoulder. “We'll be back in a few minutes. You entertain Alex.”
They were suddenly alone. A nervous wreck, Elissa stared out the plate-glass window as she took a sip of her water.
“I'm sorry about yesterday afternoon,” Alex said, startling her so badly she sloshed water on her wool jacket.
She peered at him. “You should be.” Her heart thudded so loudly at the reminder the noise almost drowned out her words. “I've never been so insulted.” Grabbing her napkin, she swiped at her lapel.
He cocked his head, his eyes narrowing. It was evident that he didn't believe her. They both knew how she'd behaved out there, on her back, in the snow—giving him back as good as she got. The word to describe it was not “insulted.”
She swallowed, shifting farther away from him.
“Have you heard from your lawyer?”
She stilled. “No.” She'd been growing more and more alarmed all day. Why hadn't Dr. Grayson called? She'd left messages on his voice mail for two days. Her mood plummeted to deeper, blacker depths. There was no reason for him to avoid calling, unless—unless.
“Look. Elissa—”
“I know. It's only business. You're not stealing my inn. I've heard it all before.” She made herself face him, if for no other reason than to send the message that she wasn't a coward, and to assure him that she had
not
given up hope. “If you don't mind. I'd appreciate it if you'd drop the subject. It's been a nice evening for everyone, and I don't want it spoiled.”
He watched her solemnly. His eyes seemed eerily brilliant in the muted light. She transferred her gaze to his chin so she wouldn't be affected by his stare.
His jaw worked and she wondered what was going through his mind. Could he be uneasy about something, too? Unable to stop herself, she lifted her glance to his. A shadow of uncertainty glimmered there, confusing her.
“What's your problem?” she asked, suspicious and hopeful. “Starting to have the guilts?”
“The what?”
“Guilts,” she repeated. “You know. About trying to throw me out of
my
inn.”
His nostrils flared at her emphasis on my. “No,” he said, but so softly, she wasn't sure he meant it. “I never feel guilty.”
She laughed, a caustic sound foreign to her ears. “That talent must come in handy when you steal a person's livelihood.”
He broke eye contact and muttered something.
She frowned. What had he said? The instant he'd spoken, Lucy and Helen came back, their chatter covering his remark. Still, with a terrible suddenness, Elissa knew in her heart, and she shuddered, experiencing an absurd sense of loss.
He'd said, “Good, Elissa—hate me.”
CHAPTER TEN
MISSY, don't plan on having no hapy new year. You ain't gonna have one.
T
HE LAST THREATENING letter Elissa received kept popping into her mind. It seemed to be so long ago, and so far removed from reality, she wouldn't allow herself to worry about it. This was New Year's Eve, a time to celebrate. Even though Alex had been with her every second, she'd managed to have fun at dinner.
The rest of the evening the family enjoyed the inn's fireplace and warm conversation. A vague odor from the recent fire lingered in the parlor, and the boarded-up window reminded them of the near tragedy. Yet, the fact that they were all well, and together, was enough to put the recent emergency from their minds.
Hirk and Jule Boggs baby-sat the twins while the others had been out to dinner. Jule had insisted that Milhouse, their two-year-old, loved the company. So, the Boggs family had been invited to stay for the remainder of the evening to ring in the New Year, as if they were one big, happy family—except for Alex, Elissa's emotional albatross. Even so, she managed to ignore him most of the time. Interestingly he looked at her less frequently that evening, and when their eyes did meet, he dragged his gaze away as readily as she.
She supposed it was because, when he'd discovered he couldn't seduce her, his male pride had been hurt. A smug sense of satisfaction outweighed her depression for a moment. She had a feeling Alex didn't experience failure often, and was happy to give him a big, bitter gulp. Forcing the memory of his kiss from her mind, she tried to catch the thread of conversation.
Lucy's laughter drew her gaze to the couch where she, Jack and Jule were sitting. Hirk stood behind his wife, his hands placed lovingly on her shoulders. “Oh, Helen and Elissa, did I tell you I heard from Stadler?”
“My favorite subject,” Jack muttered.
Lucy took her husband's hand and squeezed. “He sent us an early Christmas card.”
“The man sent you a Christmas card?” Damien asked from the chair opposite Elissa. His chuckle was disbelieving. “He's such an ass.”
Jack grinned. “And he keeps proving it over and over.”
“What's he doing these days?” Helen sat crosslegged on the rug beside Damien's chair. Milhouse, Gilly and Glory were huddled in a cluster before the fire, giggling and coloring in Christmas coloring books. “Did he marry that little Sareena?”
“No.” Lucy shook her head. “It seems she got smart at the last minute. But Stadler
is
married. To the daughter of the president of Hillside College, in Joplin. And by coincidence, Stadler is now the director of the drama department there.” The note of mockery in her voice was evident. “From his note, I don't think he's very happy. It seems that the new Mrs. Stadler Tinsley leads him around by the nose.”
“That's good enough for him.” Jack entwined his fingers with his wife's. “The way he treated you, Luce, he deserves to live under a woman's thumb.”
“Karma.” Helen nodded. “I think he's learned to regret dumping our Lucy.”
“Somebody dumped Lucy?” Alex asked, dubious. Elissa glanced at him as he lounged against the mantel, looking tall and sexy in black trousers and a matching cashmere pullover. He glanced from Lucy to Jack. “This Stadler guy sounds like the world's prize fool.”
Jack grinned, lifting his wife's hand and kissing her knuckles. “Thank goodness for fools.”
“Someday, I'm going to have to hear the whole story that goes with that remark.” Alex's grin was directed at the couple; unfortunately Elissa felt its effect—searing through her body like wildfire.
Angry with herself, she tugged her gaze away. As she did, she noticed the mantel clock. Abruptly she stood, relieved to have something to do. “It's almost midnight. Time we started making some noise.” She passed a completely disinterested look toward Alex—at least she wished it were completely disinterested—and noticed his grimace of curiosity. His handsome face was stirring even in a scowl, making her heart tumble over itself at the sight. She whirled away, heading for the parlor door. “Pots and pans, everybody, the New Year awaits!”
While Elissa, Jule and Jack grabbed kitchen utensils, Helen, Damien and Hirk bundled up the children.
“What's going on?” Alex asked as Elissa breezed by him toward the front of the inn.
She thrust a wire whisk and metal colander, in his direction. “We're ringing in the new year. Join us if you must.”
He turned the wire whisk in his hand, as though he'd never seen one before. “I'm afraid to ask what you expect me to do with this.”
She fought a contrary grin at his doubtful tone. “I thought you were never afraid, Mr. D'Amour.”
He muttered something that sounded like, “You've changed all that,” but Elissa wasn't sticking around to get him to repeat himself. She didn't like being drawn to him, and wanted the feeling to go away.
Trying not to care if he followed her or if he dropped through a hole in the earth, she hurried outside to the front porch. Squatting beside Glory, she placed a saucepan on the floorboards and handed her a wooden spoon. “Okay, sweetie, you bang on that as loud as you can and shout, ‘Happy New Year'.”
Glory lifted her spoon to start, but Elissa caught it, laughing. “Wait until your daddy says to.” She let go. “Okay?”
“'kay.” Glory bobbed her head, her eyes big and expectant.
Jack had given Milhouse a pot almost as tall as he, and a plastic spatula. “Okay, champ. Get ready.”
Milhouse turned huge, brown eyes up to the adults, his expression as serious as a doctor just before open heart surgery. Elissa had to smile at the child. Though she felt partial to her nieces, she had to admit that Milhouse was a good-looking, bright little boy. She hoped her nieces would grow up to know him well. She had a feeling he would be special in their lives.
Elissa heard jingling and noticed that Gilly held two sets of measuring spoons. Apparently unable to wait, she waved them around, making a delicate noise, giggling delightedly with the new game.
“Okay, everybody.” Damien drew her attention. “Let's count it down. Ten, nine...”
As Elissa joined in, holding her soup pan and ice-cream scoop high, she couldn't help but surreptitiously seek out Alex's location. He lounged against a nearby porch support, watching Gilly's solo on the measuring spoons. She was startled to note that he held the wire whisk and colander up, poised for action. It had never occurred to her that he might actually join in the celebration.
“Seven, six, five...”
She felt an electric sparkle dance through her at the sight as he grinned at Gilly, jingling and dancing around like a tiny, winter nymph.
His eyes shone in the reflected porch light, his deep chuckle rich with vitality. There was an energy, an air of enjoying life, about him that bothered her. She didn't want to see that side of him, a side the woman in her longed to know, to touch, to kiss, to love...
“Three, two, one...
Happy New Year!”
everyone shouted, banging and hooting to the high heavens.
As the cacophony intensified, Elissa saw a pint-size body flash by in front of her. She looked down in time to see Gilly run to Alex and grab his trouserleg. Her spoons were nowhere to be seen, and she was sobbing, her eyes wide with fright. It was clear she had no idea that her little jangling recital would escalate into a deaf ening, scary experience.
Elissa made a move to reach the child, halting in midstride when Alex gave her a quelling look. Laying aside his utensils, he scooped the wailing twin into his arms.
The noise died down, for only Milhouse and Glory were still at it, unaware that Gilly was upset. In a high-pitched, shuddery sob, she cried, “Unka Alex! ‘fraid! Unka Alex! 'fraid!” Curling her chubby arms around his neck, she buried her face against his throat, her crying muffled in the thickness of his parka.
“Oh, dear,” Helen said, “I didn't think...”
She started toward her daughter, but Damien took her arm. “No, let's go on and celebrate. Alex is doing fine, and Gilly needs to learn a little noise isn't going to hurt her.”
Elissa watched Alex as he held the child, patting her back, crooning to her. He certainly seemed more comfortable with toddlers than he had a week ago. The others began to bang their implements again, only with less abandon, in deference to Gilly's fears.
After a minute, Elissa watched as the twin lifted her face away from Alex's throat and stared at him. Her eyes swam with tears. He grinned at her and said something too softly for Elissa to hear. Gilly nodded, her death grip on his neck easing.
At last, to Elissa's amazement, Gilly allowed herself to be lowered to the floor. Alex kneeled beside her and held out the wire whisk. When she took it, he picked up the colander and nodded, obviously giving her the signal to hit it. She did, tentatively at first. Then, when Alex said more loudly, “Happy New Year, Gilly.” She grinned, and gave the colander a good whack.
After a few more solid blows, Gilly turned to grin up at her mother and dad. She continued to whack the strainer and started shouting nonsensical things, just to make noise.
Elissa found herself smiling and renewing her efforts at ringing in the new year with raucous enthusiasm. She banged her frustrations out on that poor soup pan until the ice-cream scoop handle broke off, sending the metal scoop flying into the snow.
“Well, Elissa,” Jack said, chuckling as the noise died away, “working out our hostilities, are we?”
She was experiencing a bizarre variety of emotions, but no matter how disconcerted she felt, Jack always rated a smile. “I was pretending it was your head, smarty-pants.”
“On that charming note, I think we should go inside,” Helen said with a laugh. “Somebody start a pot of decaf while Damien and I get the girls to bed.”
“Wait a minute,” Jack said. “I'm not moving until I get my New Year's Kiss.”
“I thought you'd never ask.” Lucy smiled and went into his arms.
As they kissed, Elissa diverted her gaze, only to catch Damien taking his wife against him, kissing her possessively. Biting her lip, Elissa shifted to look out at the night The clear, black sky was a striking backdrop for a golden sliver of moon.
She heard a throat being cleared nearby and feared it
wasn't
Hirk Boggs. He was no doubt kissing Jule not far away. Unable to help it, she glanced at Alex. He watched her with a brow raised. His eyes glittered, but his expression gave away nothing of his thoughts.
She tried to assess his features. Was he as uncomfortable being one half of the only couple out here not kissing? Despite his closed expression, she sensed heat in him, a heat he was willing her to feel. What did he think he was, a hypnotist? Did he think she would rush into his arms if he wanted her to? Or was her own longing tricking her into thinking she saw desire in his eyes?
She swallowed hard, wishing she weren't the only Crosby sister who didn't have a love of her own, someone to drag her into his arms and sweep her away to paradise with his hot, lusty love. But if Alex D'armour thought he would ever kiss her again, he was loonier than-than-well, than she'd been when she'd let him kiss her out there in the snow.
Shifting away, she squatted down. “Okay, who's going to kiss Aunt Elissa. Happy New Year?” Her voice was strangely squeaky, and she cleared her throat, as Gilly and Glory rushed at her. But Milhouse won, grasping her by the neck and planting a juicy, baby kiss on her nose. She laughed, kissing him back. “Well, well, it looks like I have myself a new boyfriend.” Patting his rosy cheek, she accepted hugs and kisses from her nieces, and her mood lifted.
Rallying the children, she got them to gather up their utensils and herded them to the kitchen. After the squealing toddlers had done their chore, the others came back inside. Hirk and Jule hugged everybody good-night and left for home with Milhouse. Damien and Helen took the girls upstairs to tuck them into bed, while Lucy and Jack prepared coffee and sandwiches.
Elissa gathered up dirty cups and plates from the den. On one last trip to check for dishes, she felt Alex's presence. Turning around, she feigned nonchalance, but her pulse doubled its beat. “What?”
His grin was melancholy. “I wanted to wish you a Happy New Year.” He shrugged. “Now that we're into the new year, I guess you were right. The letters were a hoax. I'm glad.”
Stunned by his declaration, she hardly knew how to respond. It was curious, though, that the mere suggestion that he believed the letters to be a hoax lifted a great weight off her. Only now did she face how frightened she had been—how she'd been on edge all evening.
She inhaled in an effort to look serene. “Apology accepted.” Her quick scanning of the room was due to nervousness at his quiet nearness rather than to any assumption that she'd missed a dish.
He seemed to hesitate, and she couldn't imagine what he was thinking. He didn't seem any more comfortable to be standing there than she. Needing to fill the awkward quiet, she asked, “Something else?”

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