Santa Viking (17 page)

She did.

Jessica hadn’t known a woman could climax, over and over, and still want more.

She did.

Jessica hadn’t known there were so many erotic points on a man’s or a woman’s body.

She did now.

Jessica hadn’t known a man could control his impending orgasm so stoically.

Oh, boy, did she know now.

Despite her protests, Erik kept repeating, “I love you. I love you. I love you
 . . . 
”

She never said the words, but her body did. And, for Erik, that seemed to be enough for now.

Love comes harder for some
 . . .

Later, but not so much later, they lay under Aunt Clara’s handmade quilt, caressing each other softly. Erik gazed down at Jessica and considered himself the luckiest man alive. How had this magic landed in his lap? What miraculous power had put him in the same place as Jessie last night?

He clutched her tighter, overcome with emotion, and whispered soft words of endearment. Jessie whispered back. Nice words. Complimentary words, though not the ones Erik wanted to hear.

His heart tightened painfully, but he forced himself not to become grim. He knew she loved him, and he understood his Little Orphan Jessie a whole lot better now. Her insecurities. Her fears. Her Christmas Curse, he thought with a silent laugh.

He could wait.

A woman like her would need proof of a man’s staying power—and he didn’t mean that in the sexual sense. He was staying, for good, no matter what she thought.

For now, he had other things on his mind.

Putting a forefinger under her chin, he tilted her face upward. Immediately, he saw the wariness in her honey eyes. She thought he was going to pressure her on the love and marriage issues.

“So how do you feel about peppermint sticks?” he asked.

“What?” she asked with suspicion.

“Peppermint sticks. Do you like to
 . . .
lick them?”

“Sure, but I don’t understand—”

He kicked the quilt off, looking pointedly at his upraised “stick,” then over to the bedside table where the bottle of peppermint warming oil stood in waiting.

They both laughed then.

But not for long.

Kids say the darnedest things
 . . .

“Why do you and Uncle Erik smell like candy canes?” Willie asked Jessie the next morning, peering up for the first time in an hour from his Ninja turtle tape. Scraps of Christmas wrapping paper surrounded him and were scattered across the living room.

“Who has candy canes? I want a candy cane,” Kajeeta whined as she pirouetted across the room in her new flame-red tights.

Even from across the room, Erik saw a rush of pink stain Jessie cheeks. And her eyes—her soulful eyes—met his reluctantly, then darted away in embarrassment.

Was she embarrassed by Willie’s impudent question, or about the incredible things they’d done to each other last night?

He’d left Jessie’s bed near dawn, not wanting her to be caught in a compromising situation by any unexpected visitors. She’d been asleep when he slipped out, and he hadn’t talked to her in private since then. Surely she didn’t take his considerate departure as a mark of abandonment.

He felt hurt by the distance she was putting between them. Last night was special. To them both. He wanted to shout his love aloud
 . . .
to the kids, to Aunt Clara, to Jessie. He wanted to hold hands. To kiss under the mistletoe. To hug. And make plans.

But she was as skittish now as a cat in a room full of pit bulls.

“Candy canes! Oh, you dweeb!” Julio snorted to Willie, pulling Erik back to the present. Julio was sitting on an easy chair with his feet propped on a hassock, basking in the glow of his benevolent charity, albeit at Jessie’s expense. “It’s probably skin warming oil, like they sell in porno shops,” Julio explained.

“Porno shops?” Willie inquired.

Everyone turned to look in question, first at Jessie, then him. Luckily, Aunt Clara was in the kitchen having a cup of tea.

Before he and Jessie had a chance to turn crimson with telling humiliation, Darlene piped in, “Julio, you are such a jerk. You think you’re so hot. You think you know everything. You think—”

“Hah! I know a slut when I see one.”

“Eff off!”

Julio flicked a middle finger at her.

“That’s enough!” Erik roared. Really, someone needed to lay down the law with these kids. They all looked chastened as he continued to glare at them, hands on hips. Eventually they grumbled and went back to examining the Christmas gifts that Julio-Santa had brought them.

At least attention had been diverted away from him and Jessie.

That is, until Willie peered up from his tape once again and asked Erik, “Do you wear a jock strap when you practice karate?”

Erik couldn’t speak. Only a gurgling sound came out.

“Gawd!” Henry said and left the room.

“I know what a jock strap is,” Kajeeta exclaimed with glee in the middle of an amazing pirouette.

Even Darlene blushed.

“A blush from you, Dar-lene-ey,” Julio teased. “Well, wonders never cease.”

It was obvious to Erik, if not to anyone else, that Julio had a crush on Darlene. This continual baiting was his juvenile way of showing it.

Darlene was sputtering unintelligible words about cutting out Julio’s tongue and sticking it someplace unmentionable.

Jessie fled to the kitchen, muttering something about helping Aunt Clara with the breakfast dishes. The coward! They’d eaten fruitcake and leftover cheese steaks on paper plates.

Well, she wasn’t going to escape from him this time. Perhaps he needed a little help, though.

“Oh, Wil-lie,” Erik said in a sugary, coaxing voice. “How’d you like to do me a
big
favor.”

There are mousetraps, and then there are mousetraps
 . . .

Early that afternoon, the house had settled down to a peaceful hum, and Jessica retreated to the kitchen where she was singing “Silent Night” under her breath while puttering around with preparations for Christmas dinner. Julio, God bless him, had purchased an already prepared roasted turkey dinner for ten from a supermarket. It had cost him
 . . .
her
 . . .
a hundred bucks.

Jessica planned to take every dollar out of his hide, but not today.

A wonderful peacefulness enveloped Jessica. A feeling of family. Darlene was sitting under the tree playing some of her new CD’s on a disc player “Santa” had brought. Henry was teaching Willie how to play a computer game. Kajeeta was watching
A
Christmas Carol
on TV with Erik. Aunt Clara was upstairs taking a nap.

If only things could stay this way.

“Aunt Jessie,” Willie said, padding into the kitchen barefooted, wearing his new white karate outfit. “Can I ask you something
 . . .
um
 . . .
personal?”

Uh-oh.
Jessica looked at the red-haired imp and groaned inwardly. There was a suspicious twinkle in his eyes.

“Do girls like guys who do karate? I mean, does it turn them on?”

“Wh-what?” she stammered, backing away from him and looking around blindly for a quick exit or somewhere to hide.

“I know that girls like football players. And wrestlers. But what about karate guys?”

Oh, God!
“Willie,
why don’t you go ask Julio, or Uncle Erik?” She made a couple of crablike sidesteps, hoping she could make it to the hallway leading to the front door before having to answer.

“Julio’s the one that told me to start doing karate. Either that or get a tattoo.”

“A
 . . .
a tattoo?”

Willie shuffled around, inadvertently blocking her route to the hall. “And I asked Uncle Erik about this girls and karate and sex stuff, but he told me to come ask you.”

“Oh, he did, did he?”

“Yep. How’s a guy supposed to know what turns a girl’s crank? I mean, really, Aunt Jessie, guys like just about anything, but girls are different. Aren’t they? Huh? Aren’t they?” He was pressing closer, gazing up at her with wide-eyed innocence. Still, there was that suspicious twinkle in his eyes, too.

How could she answer such questions? “Uh, I’m busy right now, Willie. Come back later. I’ll tell you then,” she promised. And, gutless wimp that she was, she dashed into the pantry.

To her shock, she heard the door close behind her and the lock click from the other side, followed by the sound of Willie’s snickering. That shock was followed immediately by another as she realized that the “rat” who’d planted the cheese—Willie—in her path, had diverted her toward this very spot.

Erik stood leaning against the window on the far wall of the narrow pantry. If this was intended to be a joke, he wasn’t laughing.

“So, tell me, Jessie, what does turn a girl’s crank?”

It’s all in who you know
 . . .

“What’s going on?” she said shrilly, twisting the knob unsuccessfully.

“You tell me, Jessie. What the hell’s going on?”

“I
 . . .
I don’t know what you mean.” She knew exactly what he meant. She’d been dodging him all morning, ever since she’d awakened, alone, in her bed.

Oh, she didn’t blame him for leaving. He’d probably been concerned about her reputation with the kids and Aunt Clara. Still, his leaving had reminded her that he would leave eventually, and she couldn’t allow herself to get too attached.

Last night had been wonderful. End of story.

Stepping away from the window, Erik moved closer to her. Bright sunlight reflected off his blond hair, giving it dazzling highlights. He wore a crisp, pure white T-shirt of Julio’s tucked into faded jeans.

And already she felt warm and tingly. It was probably the aftereffects of the warming oil.

“You know, Jessie, when you look at me, your eyes give you away.”

She lowered her lashes.

He laughed mirthlessly and tickled her under the chin.

Her head jerked up. How had he discovered that that tiny section of skin was a particularly sensitive spot on her body?
Hah! He knows that and a whole lot more about my body.

He braced his arms on either side of her head. There was a touch of anger in his clenched jaw, as well as hurt in his blue eyes, which glittered more gray than blue today. Stormy.

“What gives, Jessie?” he gritted out. “Tell me what’s going through that quirky mind of yours.”

“Erik, let me go. Let’s go outside. Then we’ll talk.” The pantry was very small, no bigger than a walk-in closet. Too intimate. She could smell a hint of coffee on his breath. She could feel the heat of his body. She could imagine a whole lot more.

“Why can’t we talk here?” He cocked his head, then a slow grin spread across his face. “Do I make you nervous?”

“No, but
 . . .
but I should keep an eye on the kids while Aunt Clara’s sleeping.”

“Liar.”

She groaned in resignation. He wasn’t going to let her escape until they’d cleared the air. “What do you want, Erik?”

“You.”

She whimpered.

“Why are you fighting this? Is loving me such a bad thing?”

“Love is never a bad thing,” she declared vehemently, angry herself now, “but it’s just not in the cards for me.”

“You’re not going to mention that damn Christmas Curse again.”

“No, I’m pretty sure the Christmas Curse is over. Last night just about wiped it out, I would think.”

“Damn straight!”

“Oh, Erik, last night was wonderful, for both of us, but I don’t want you to make it into something more than what it was.”

“Which was?” he asked icily.

“People have a way of getting caught up in the magic of the Christmas season, but the glow rarely lasts beyond the tinsel and mistletoe. It’s sort of like vacation romances where lovers forget each other once they go home.”

“Bull!”

She winced at his harsh scorn.

“I love you, Jessie.”

“You think you do,” she corrected.

“Don’t tell me what I think. I love you, and you love me, dammit. Deny it. Go ahead. Tell me you don’t love me.”

Tears welled in her eyes as she tried to tell him she didn’t love him. The words stuck in her throat.

“Jessie, honey, have you ever told anyone you loved them?”

She shook her head mutely.

“Because they always left first, right?”

She nodded.

“Ah, sweetheart, don’t you know
 . . .
can’t you trust that I’m not leaving?”

She shook her head again, but a soft sob escaped.

He bent his knees so he was at eye level with her and pressed his lips lightly against hers, shifting from side to side, as if trying to show her his sincerity. “I’m in this for the long haul, babe,” he said in a choked voice. “I’ve waited too long to find love again. I’ll prove to you that my love is for real. I will.”

He was lowering his mouth for another kiss when footsteps clamored loudly on the other side of the door, followed by a rattling of the door knob.

“Uncle Erik, your phone is ringing like crazy, and there’s a car coming up the driveway
 . . .
a stretch limo.”

Jessica canted her head at Erik in question. Giving her a quick peck, he looped an arm around her shoulder, firm notice that he wasn’t going to let her bolt again.

Henry was speaking on Erik’s cell phone in the hallway when they emerged. His eyes seemed watery with unshed tears, and his glasses were all fogged up.

Jessica’s maternal instincts kicked in. “Henry, what’s wrong? Is it bad news?” Henry was an orphan, but there might be some distant relative she didn’t know about.

He ignored her with a wave of his hand. “Yes, sir. I will, sir. I promise,” Henry said into the mouthpiece, a tone of awe in his voice. “A summer school for computer whiz kids? No, I never heard about that. A what? Oh, Gawd! A college scholarship, maybe, sometime down the road?” Tears streamed unrestrained down Henry’s face now. “But, Mr. Gates, how did you hear about me? Oh. Yes, Erik Thorsson is still here.” Henry gave Erik a sideways glance of adoration.

“Bill Gates?” Jessica said, turning to Erik. “You called Bill Gates on Henry’s behalf?”

“No big deal,” he said dismissively.

“It is a very big deal,” she asserted and hugged him tightly.

And a tiny grain of trust began to build between them. Well, actually, it was more like a rock.

He winked at her. “Hey, if a telephone call turns you on, I’ve got a really good dialing finger.” He jiggled his eyebrows at her.

Lord, she loved it when he jiggled his eyebrows.

Not that she’d tell him that.

Not that he probably didn’t know it already.

Oh, this was turning into the best Christmas ever. And it wasn’t over yet.

Darlene and Kajeeta stood at the open front door, gaping at the limo which had just pulled to a stop. The two teenagers looked outside, then looked at each other, threw their hands up in the air, and squealed girlishly.

Jessica felt like screaming, too.

Fancy Nancy walked in the door. For real.

“Shut your mouth, Jessie,” Erik advised her with a chuckle. He squeezed her shoulder before releasing her and stepping forward to welcome his guest.

“Yo, Nance, glad you could come,” Erik said, kissing the star on the cheek. Nancy wore a skin-tight, red body suit with a wide silver belt and a fuzzy white fake-fur jacket. A dozen tiny gold Christmas bells tinkled from the many piercings in her ears as she moved. There was also a small gold loop in one eyebrow and on the tip of her tongue.

“Which one of you is Kajeeta?” Nancy asked, homing in on the astonished black girl. “You and I have a lot to talk about, girlfriend.” Then, turning to Darlene, she added, “You must be Darlene. Great makeup!”

The three headed into the living room where Willie stood like a frozen statue watching Nancy approach. The expression on his face couldn’t have been more delighted if he’d been handed a karate black belt on a silver platter. Jessica shuddered to think what questions he might ask the sexy rock singer/dancer. Julio put his hands in his pockets, striking a nonchalant pose, and Jessica was pretty sure he planned to hit on the celebrity.

That left her and Erik to follow dumbly after the crowd. Henry was still chattering away on the phone with Bill Gates.

Erik watched her watch Nancy with a great deal of amusement.

“Glad you could make it,” Erik said to Nancy once he could get a word in edgewise.

“Hey, man, I wouldn’t have missed this for anything. When you told me yesterday that you’d met your dream girl, I had to come take a look-see.”

Erik draped a proprietary arm around Jessica’s waist.

“Yeah, you done good, Erik,” Nancy said teasingly, giving Jessica a sweeping appraisal. “Maybe too good. Maybe I should introduce her to my chauffeur. He’s studying to be an actor.”

Erik stiffened beside her.

Nancy hooted with laughter and tapped Erik on the chin with one of her long black, rhinestone studded fingernails. “Gotcha, good buddy!” She told Jessica then, “This guy of yours is the best bodyguard I ever hired. Did you know that Brad Pitt has been trying to convince him for years to take a job as his body double, but he refuses to move to the West Coast? Maybe you can talk some sense into him, honey.”

Jessica was too flabbergasted by that news to respond.

“So where’s this famous fruitcake?” Nancy asked Erik.

Everyone started to laugh, but then a car horn blew outside.

What next?
Jessica mouthed to Erik.

“Damned if I know,” he replied, peering out the window. Immediately, he exclaimed, “Oh, my God!”

“What’s the matter?” Jessica asked with concern.

He gave her a rueful glance. “It’s my sister, Ellie. I told her to bring some Christmas presents.”

“So?” He’d already told her of his fondness for his sister.

“And my mother, too.”

Oooh, boy!

It was the most wonderful time of the year, for sure
 . . .

Early that evening, Erik sat on the floor before the fire with his arm wrapped around Jessie. Their backs were propped against the sofa where Aunt Clara knitted away on an afghan—a Christmas present for him. Erik had to chuckle when he saw her latest creation for the first time. Brown and speckled with red and orange and green, it resembled a big slice of fruitcake.

The kids sat around the room playing with their Christmas gifts. Although everyone was tired from the long day and the excitement, they were reluctant to go to bed and end what had been a perfect day for them all.

Nancy had left soon after dinner, dog-tired from dancing with all the kids, stuffed from Julio’s Christmas feast, and ears ringing with all the questions. She’d brought little nonsense gifts for the orphans, which they would, no doubt, cherish for a lifetime.

Before they’d gotten in the limo—the limo driver had joined them for Christmas dinner, too, and to Erik’s annoyance he was way too good-looking—Erik had heard Willie ask Nancy, “Do you think girls are attracted to karate guys?”

“Oooh, yes!” Nancy cooed with a straight face. “In fact, I’m thinking about using some karate moves in my next music video.” That about made Willie’s day.

And Julio had somehow managed an invitation from Nancy to go to Hollywood for a job next summer. He probably had a strategy mapped out already for taking the town by storm . . . or just taking it.