Mistletoe (12 page)

With two of her grandchildren practically wrapped around her legs, and another asleep in her arms, the woman struggled her way through the foyer wearing her usual just-sucked-a-lemon expression. Weighed down by not only the children, but two shopping bags filled with presents from Santa, halfway across the entrance hall, the little boy in her arms began to slip. Before Willoughby could react, Jamie was at her side, pulling the sleeping child from her arms.

“I’ve got him,” Jamie said. As she gently laid the boy against her shoulder, she noticed Lillian's steely-eyed expression. With a sigh, Jamie added, “Don’t worry, Lillian, I’ll give him back. I promise.”

Realizing that the woman was only trying to help, Lillian offered Jamie a weak grin as she placed the bags on the floor.

“I was surprised not to see your husband here tonight, Lillian. I hope he’s not sick,” Jamie said, watching as the staff helped the woman on with her coat.

“No, Charlie’s fine, but when he saw your invitation, and it included children, he decided to sit this one out. His patience with the little ones isn’t what it used to be.”

“That’s too bad.”

“Actually, I prefer it,” she said, fumbling through her coat pockets for her gloves. “This way, I have the darlings all to myself without having to listen to him moan and complain all night long. Be warned, Jamie, when husbands get old, they whine about everything.”

“I’m not sure that really applies to me, Lillian, but thanks for the warning,” Jamie said with a twinkle in her eye.

Realizing her mistake, Lillian's pursed her lips. Yanking on her gloves as she tried to regroup, she said, “Quite a party you threw here tonight, Nash.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t what you were expecting.”

“That’s putting it mildly,” Lillian said with a snort.

With a sigh, Jamie shook her head.

“I'm sorry, if you didn't enjoy yourself, Lillian. Feel free to decline the invitation next year.”

Pausing for a moment, Lillian asked, “So you’re planning on repeating this little Christmas soiree of yours, are you?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Would you like some help?”

Jamie stared back at Lillian Willoughby as if the woman had just grown another head. Leaning in close, she said, “Excuse me?”

If there was one thing that Lillian Willoughby hated to do, it was to admit when she was wrong, but that’s just what she was about to do. She had spent an evening in a home filled with the sounds and the smells of Christmas, and she had thoroughly enjoyed herself. She had read stories to wide-eyed youngsters, played in the snow with her grandchildren, and stood teary-eyed on a crowded patio when Santa had arrived on his sleigh. It had been a wondrous night, orchestrated by a woman who Lillian was now having a hard time hating. Although her views on homosexuality hadn’t changed, Lillian’s level of tolerance had.

“I can’t speak for Ted, of course,” Lillian started, straightening her posture as she took a deep breath. “But I’m getting too old to throw lavish Christmas parties for my clients. I’d just as soon send them fruit baskets and be done with it. So, I was thinking that next year, well…perhaps…perhaps I could contribute some time…oh and money of course, and maybe help you with the party plans.”

Remembering the glitz and gaudiness of Lillian's home, Jamie said, “Thanks for the offer, Lillian, but I'd prefer to do it myself. Too many cooks in the kitchen, if you know what I mean.”

“Oh, oh…that’s not what I meant,” Lillian blurted. “What I thought is that I could put some money toward the gifts for the children, and if you needed help with the baking…or decorating, then I’d arrange my schedule, so I’d have time to give you a hand.”

Mentally, Jamie quickly tallied the amount of alcohol she had consumed that night. Deciding that two glasses of wine could not have muddled her senses to a point of misinterpreting Lillian’s offer, she pondered on how best to reply. It didn’t take long.

“Let me get this
straight
,” Jamie said, unable to prevent a grin from appearing when the word slipped from her lips. “You’re volunteering to come to my home and spend
several
days decorating and baking off dozens of Christmas cookies, all the while, standing by
my
side.”

“Yes, that’s right.”

Studying the woman, Jamie tilted her head. “Who are you, and what have you done with Willoughby?”

Not at all put off by Jamie’s sarcasm, Lillian said, “Yes, well, to tell you the truth, I’m a bit surprised myself, but I’m willing to give it a go, if you are. I’m not saying that I…that I will ever change my ways about certain things, but what you did here tonight is what Christmas is all about and…and I’d like to be a part of it. That is, if you’ll let me.”

Totally befuddled, Jamie let out a long breath as she stared at Lillian.

Thinking for a moment, Jamie crossed her arms. “I choose the menu.”

“Of course.”

“And the decorations.”

“Absolutely.”

“And the people
we
invite?”

“That would totally be up to you.”

If it hadn’t been for the fact that she was holding a sleeping child in her arms, Jamie would have pinched herself to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. Her thoughts had only been to give a few needy families a Christmas to remember, but instead, Jamie knew
she
would never forget
this
day. Although smart enough to know that Phelan’s sneers and Willoughby’s condescending looks would reappear after the Christmas season had passed, the tiniest sliver of respect now existed between them, and if it was only to reappear each Christmas, so be it.

“Lillian?” Jamie said.

“Yes.”

Grinning, Jamie nodded her head.

“You’ve got a deal.”

~~~

After depositing Lillian’s sleeping grandson into the woman’s car, Jamie bid farewell to her last guest and climbed the stairs into her house.

Glancing at the staff as they cleaned up, she walked down the hallway, and stopped as she reached the library.

Peering inside, she said, “You look comfortable.”

Smiling, Diana looked up and then spun herself around in the high-backed, leather office chair behind Jamie’s desk.

“I am,” Diana said with a giggle. “Nice chair.”

The slightest hint of blush crossed Jamie’s cheeks as she thought about what she had done in that exact chair the night before. Clearing her throat, she said, “I’ve got a few things to wrap up with the staff before they can leave, and then I was going to make some coffee. You interested?”

“Very,” Diana said, leaning back in the chair. “I think I had one too many desserts.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” Jamie said with a smile. “Give me ten minutes and I’ll meet you in the living room. Okay?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“Great,” Jamie said, flashing Diana another wide grin before disappearing from the doorway.

Getting to her feet, Diana sauntered through the house, passing the few remaining costumed staff members as they carried the last of the dishes and trash bags from the dining room.

Entering the living room, Diana breathed in deep the smell of pine and looked around.

Long and wide, with an enormous blue spruce at one end and an equally enormous fireplace at the other, the room was as large as it was cozy. The graceful grains of cherry could be seen in the flooring and the furniture, and the soft reddish-brown leather of the sofas and chairs added yet more warmth to the room. Strings of white lights and green garland had been draped over the windows, and the figurines of angels and snowmen sitting on the tables held in their hands small bowls once filled with candies and nuts.

Staying with the traditional colors of Christmas, the tree was filled with baubles of red and green in almost every shape and size, and threaded through the branches were hundreds of white fairy lights. Unlike Lillian’s tree, with its limbs sagging from the volume of ornaments displayed, Jamie had used just enough to make it festive without being garish. Diana’s eyes traveled to the angel at the top of the tree, and she couldn’t help but sigh at the simplicity of the figure dressed in a white, flowing robe with a shawl of silver. She was perfect. Everything was perfect.

Hearing a noise in the hallway, Diana turned around and watched as Jamie chatted easily with the last remaining staff as they left the house.

She heard the front door close, and less than a minute later, Diana found herself grinning back at the woman leaning in the doorway.

For a few seconds, they gazed at each other in silence, and then Jamie said softly, “Alone at last.”

T
he silence in the room was palpable as each absorbed the meaning of Jamie’s words. They were alone…completely and utterly alone.

Diana no longer had to share Jamie’s attention with guests wanting to chat, or with staff members awaiting further instructions, and the reality of that fact burrowed its way through her body. As she felt it snuggle itself between her legs with a sensual thud, Diana licked her lips and took a slow, easy breath. Four weeks earlier, she had been thrown off-balance by the feelings that Jamie’s kiss had evoked, but now, Diana welcomed the warm pulse of awareness deep within her body. Her fear of the unknown had been replaced by a hunger to learn. Even though she had never fallen in love before, Diana knew in her heart that she’d never fall in love again.

This was it.

It had seemed an appropriate thing to say until the words had slipped from her lips, and Jamie swallowed hard at the truth of the moment. Across the room, dressed in tight jeans and a red cashmere sweater, stood the woman who, in a matter of a few short weeks, had stolen Jamie’s heart. She was a woman who Jamie had kissed twice, and she was a woman who Jamie wanted to kiss again…and again. Jamie had felt lust before, but what she was feeling for Diana Clarke was well beyond that. She craved Diana like no other. She wanted every inch of her. She wanted her in every way imaginable…and Jamie wanted her for the rest of her life.

Taking a deep breath, Jamie said, “Coffee will be ready in a few minutes. I just put on a fresh pot.”

“I’m not really thirsty,” Diana said softly.

Worried that the evening was about to come to an end, Jamie blurted, “Oh. Um...how about tea, or maybe…maybe more wine?”

“No, I think I’ve had enough wine,” Diana said. “I need to be clear-headed.”

Jamie’s shoulders fell. “Right…long drive home.”

Tickled by Jamie’s misinterpretation, Diana was about to clear up the confusion when she noticed something hanging above the doorway where Jamie stood. With dimples forming, she said, “You lied to me.”

“Lied? About what?”

“Mistletoe.”

“Huh?”

Pointing to the sprig hanging above Jamie’s head, Diana said, “You told me you didn’t buy any.”

Confused, Jamie looked up and her eyes went wide at the sight of the spray of mistletoe tied with a red ribbon.

“Where the hell did that come from?”

“Probably from a flower shop, or the mall. Take your pick.”

Shaking her head, Jamie said, “Diana, I didn't buy that.”

“So you say,” Diana replied with a grin as she slowly walked in Jamie’s direction. “But since you’re standing under it, there’s a tradition that we need to follow. Or am I wrong?”

Jamie's libido sprang to life, and the feel of the body rush forced a low, sexy purr to rise in her throat. Pulling Diana into her arms, their eyes locked and as their breath mingled, Jamie lowered her mouth to Diana's.

Allowing her lips to brush over Diana’s for only a few seconds before pulling away, Jamie breathed in deep and then returned for more. Anointing Diana’s mouth with the tenderest of kisses, Jamie moved her lips over Diana’s, applying just a hint of pressure as the woman relaxed in her arms.

Heads began to tilt as flavors, new and wonderful began to blend, and with no need to rush their kisses remained chaste until Jamie couldn't stand it any longer.

Yearning to savor more, she ran the tip of her tongue across Diana’s supple lips, and moaned as she was beckoned inside.

Diana had never experienced anything like this before. Her head was spinning at the sensations that Jamie’s kisses were creating, and when she felt Jamie’s tongue ask for entry, Diana thought she was going to die. Parting her lips, her knees weakened when Jamie slipped inside, and moaning as the woman’s warm, wet tongue swept over hers, Diana answered in kind. Opening her mouth wide, she sucked against Jamie’s tongue, and their kisses grew frenzied as their passion flamed.

Jamie’s mind was filled with things erotic and wet. Her imagination soared at the possibilities of devouring Diana’s body and juices in a whirlwind of heady sex that would last until morning, but what if Diana wasn’t ready for the carnal lessons Jamie wanted to give?

What if she was Diana’s first woman, or worse yet…what if she wasn’t?

Pulling away, she gazed at Diana as she tried to find the words, and taking a deep breath, she asked softly, “Are you…I mean…have you ever...”

With lips pink with passion, Diana offered Jamie the smallest of smiles.

“Does it matter?”

In three simple words, Diana had told Jamie all she needed to know, and her heart melted. It didn't matter if Diana had or hadn't and with whom. All that mattered was here and now, and the past was the past...but the future was going to be wonderful. Shaking her head, Jamie said, “No, it doesn't.”

“Then take me to bed.”

“Are you sure?” Jamie asked in a hoarse whisper.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my entire life.”

~~~

Holding hands, they walked up the stairs, and entering the master suite, Diana found herself being led toward the bed at the far end of the room.

In all of her life, Diana had slept with four men, and with each, the first night spent in their arms had been edged with anxiety. The kind of nervousness that comes from opening yourself up to someone for the first time, from letting them see you at your most vulnerable, your most tender, your most needy, but Diana wasn’t nervous as she walked across the room. While it was true that her heart pounded in her chest, nerves were not to blame.

For a moment, Jamie let go of her hand, and walked over to turn on a bedside lamp. Returning to Diana’s side, she reached up and ran her finger softly down Diana’s cheek. “You are so beautiful.”