What the Sleigh? (3 page)

Hot tears welled in her eyes and she dashed them away with the back of her hand in anger. She hadn’t faced them. She’d run like a coward and hidden away. The guilt almost choked her. She should have stayed. Been strong enough to look the cheating son of a bitch in the eye and walk past him with her head held high.

In the last long five years, she’d learned regret hurt almost as much as a broken heart. More in fact. She’d long ago stopped asking why he’d done what he’d done. Some people were just assholes.

The door opened behind her. She stiffened as she sensed a familiar presence. His presence.

“Rudi?”

His deep voice filled the alley, teasing her senses. Of course, he’d followed her. Why wouldn’t he? He had to have gone to some trouble to leave the pole this close to Christmas and what for… To play cops and robbers with an armed gang? No, Nick Claus never did anything without a reason.

“Which asshole tipped you off?” She didn’t look at him, but she did lift her head from the door. She refused to show weakness to anyone. Especially him. “Rhod or Cole?”

“Neither.”

His steps drew closer until she felt him just behind her. Without thinking, she took a deep breath in. Cinnamon and spice filled her nostrils, with an undertone of citrus and pure man. A pang of longing hit her hard. His scent was as familiar to her as her own. It was as unmistakable as the man himself. Nicholas Claus the 3rd; the heir to Christmas and Santa’s actual grandson.

She turned her head a little but kept her eyes closed. She couldn’t look at him. Not yet. She needed just a moment to gather her defenses.

“Then who?”

“Rhod’s wife. But it’s not her fault. She was talking about the PPA, described you…as soon as she said your name I knew.”

“Fuck!” She kicked the door. “I knew I should have left as soon as Rhod arrived.”

The air moved behind her and she spun on her heel. Batting his hand away before it could land on her shoulder, she fixed him with a glare could enough to freeze hell over. “Don’t touch me. Don’t
ever
touch me,” she spat, backing up when she realized how close he was.

He didn’t move, blocking her view of the alley with his broad shoulders. He was just how she remembered him. Tall and muscled, with the looks of a decadent rock star, he was as far from the archetype of Santa as it was possible to get. But he was Santa. The Christmas magic in her recognized the same in him and reached out in yearning. For him, for everything he stood for. For everything she’d lost.

“Rudi, please…let me explain.” His eyes were tinged with heart-breaking sadness, holding her immobile as he took a step forward. She stiffened and her heart sped up. The need to push him away hammered through her with each beat but she couldn’t.

“I don’t want to know.” The only thing she could move was her mouth, so she employed it. “I don’t want anything from you. Now get the hell out of my way, I have packing to do.”

“You’re really going to do this then?” he asked, lifting a hand again as though to touch her shoulder. She blocked him with her forearm against his wrist, but try as she might she couldn’t knock his hand away. They froze in place like some kind of mime show. “You’re really going to let your pride get in the way of helping people?”

“Bastard.” Her lip curled back as she hurled the insult. “Don’t you dare… My
pride?
You think I have any fucking pride left after what you did?”

Pain darkened his eyes, but he didn’t move. “Rudi, I’m sorry. If I could go back and change it all, I would. I swear.”

Anger surged through her at his words, allowing her to knock his hand away finally. “Sorry? Is that it?” She felt tears sparkle in her eyes, hot and heavy. “No excuses, no ‘it was an accident’?”

He held her gaze steadily, moving closer until she was corralled in the corner, his body between her and freedom.

“There are no excuses for what happened, for what I did. You found me with another woman in our bed, how can that be an accident?” He reached up, ignoring her flinch away to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “All I can say is I’m so
so
sorry. I love you, I always have, and these last five years have been hell without you.”

Slowly he leaned down until his lips just brushed hers. “Please don’t let my mistake change the person you are. Please don’t let me stop you helping people.”

Then he leaned down to kiss her and she was lost.

His lips brushed hers with the softest of pressures. It was the merest brush of skin on skin, but it held her in place even though all her muscles bunched to push him away. She couldn’t though, her body frozen in place. He did it again, caressing her lips with soft, hesitant touches which seduced her into staying still.

Her whispered moan escaped before she could stop it. Not her fault. It had been five long years since she’d kissed anyone. Kissed him. Memory aiding and abetting his seduction, clouding her reason.

Hands cupping her neck, he moved closer. His lean, hard body pressed into her, her curves the perfect complement to his sculpted muscle. The kiss deepened, his tongue brushing the closed seam of her lips. It wasn’t a demand, instead it was a soft request. One accompanied by the gentle brush of his thumb against the side of her neck. Then against the soft spot just under her ear, the one that made her knees weak.

Whimpering, she parted her lips to let him in. He knew her better than she did herself, knew how to play her body and her responses, and she couldn’t remember why she shouldn’t let him. Heat and desire filled her, effervescent pleasure sparkling through her veins like the bubbles in fine champagne.

He cradled her in his hands and tilted her head so he could plunder her mouth. His kiss blew her away, scattering every thought process as he slid his tongue deep to taste her. Teased and stroked and touched until she couldn’t remember which way was up. Her world was dominated by him. His talented mouth, and sinful lips. His touch, his taste…the little rumble he always made in the back of his throat when he was aroused.

Had Ginger liked that rumble as much as she always had?

The thought was like a dash of cold water in the face. Rudi snatched her lips from his, turning her head to break the kiss.

“Nick, no.” Her protests were weak, even to her ears. He didn’t stop, kissing the corner of her mouth and along her jaw instead. When he nuzzled under her ear, her knees weakened, her hands clutching at his shoulders for support. She couldn’t…

“Please—”

“She said
no,
asshole.” A rough voice broke through the sensual haze surrounding her and the next second Nick was ripped away from her. The sound of fist on flesh was like a gunshot in the silence of the alley.

She gasped at the sudden lack of contact, swaying on her feet only to be propped up by Darrick’s arm. He stood protectively in front of her, his leather clad body tensed for action as he glared at the Christmas elf sprawled on the ground in front of them.

Nick wiped blood from the corner of his lips with the back of his hand and flicked a glance up at Darrick. If looks could kill Darrick would have been stretched out cold and unmoving on the dirt beneath their feet.

“You’ve a good right hook, Pixie, I’ll give you that.” His voice was dangerously quiet and he flipped to his feet in a movement worthy of any martial arts movie, stalking toward Darrick with murder in his eyes. “Now it’s my turn.”

“Yeah? Bring it on, asshole.” Darrick, never one to back down from a fight, snarled. “No one hurts my girl without answering to me.”

“No! Stop it, both of you!”

In a heartbeat, Rudi slid under Darrick’s outstretched arm and got between the two of them. Darrick was a good fighter, yeah, but Nick was something else. Before they’d taken on the magic of Christmas, the northern elves had been a warrior race. One which fought polar bears for fun. With the sort of magic Nick could pull, he’d end Darrick in a heartbeat.

“Get out of the way, Rudi,” Nick snarled and kept coming. “This is between him and me.”

“No!” She planted a hand in the middle of Nick’s broad chest, her back against Darrick. “No more fighting. I won’t have either of you hurt because of me.”

“Oh, I won’t get hurt. He will.” Nick grinned nastily and pulled her hand out of the way. She slammed the other into his chest to stop him.

“Yeah? You and who’s army?” Darrick was just as bad, snarling back. She had to side step and literally body slam him against the wall to stop him going after Nick.

“
STOP IT!”
she bellowed, the sound loud in the alley, startling them into silence. They might both be male and bigger than her, but she had the power of her deer backing her up. “Behave, or I’ll knock you both on your asses.”

The door behind them opened, but locked in their own battle of wills, none of them looked around.

“Everything okay, Rudi?”

She didn’t turn around at the question, keeping her eyes on Nick while holding Darrick pinned between her and the wall. The voice, full of gravel and way too low to be human, belonged to Jared Stone, one of the agency’s werewolves. An alpha, he tended to keep an eye out for all the other shifters on the payroll.

“Yeah. I’m good. We’re good. Aren’t we?” She directed the question at Nick, her gaze firm. “Aren’t we, Nick?”

Finally, he nodded, body relaxing a little so it wasn’t pressed hard against her hand. “Yeah…”

“Good.” She nodded. “Briefing tomorrow. 9 a.m. sharp. Don’t be late.”

He searched her eyes, then the smallest hint of a smile crossed his lips. “Thank you…”

She almost thought he was going to say something else, but instead he stepped back and walked away, nodding to Stone in the doorway and disappearing inside.

Thank fuck
.

She breathed a sigh of relief, closing her eyes for a moment. That had been tense.

“That’s him, huh?” Darrick murmured, all the normal attitude absent from his voice. “You do realize he’s still in love with you?”

She snorted and pushed away from him. “Fuck off, not a chance.”

“Oh, I know the look well,” the pixie carried on as she walked inside, heading for Iliona’s office to apologize. “He’s got it bad. Real bad.”

This time she laughed, hand on the door to the office. Her voice was sharp with remembered pain as she answered, “Then why did I find him balls deep in another woman?”

Chapter Three

Nick made sure he was nice and early for the briefing the next day. At twenty-five to nine, he sat in meeting room three waiting for everyone else to arrive. Sitting back, he crossed one leg over the other and looked around. The PPA offices were plush and luxurious, but they were obviously a hive of activity. This particular room had been set up for their special task force operation. A large board at the back already had diagrams of the mall they were going to be located at pinned up, as well as grainy surveillance photos of the gang. A picture in the corner caught his attention and he stood to walk over to it, wincing when he realized it was a color shot of the two dead reindeer from the previous attack.

Checking over his shoulder the door was still closed, he reached out and unpinned it, slipping it quickly into his pocket before returning to his seat. Rudi might act hard as nails, but he knew her. She had a soft heart, especially where her animal’s cousin-kind was concerned. She didn’t need to see something like that.

He lifted his mug of coffee as the door opened, taking a healthy swallow. Thick and laced with cream and sugar, it sent a jolt of warmth through his system but was nothing compared to the feeling which coursed through him when Rudi walked into the room. Dressed for business in black jeans and a fitted leather jacket over a t-shirt, her hair was neatly scraped back and she carried a bunch of files under her arm.

Nick’s expression darkened as she was followed by her pet pixie, Darrick. For Pole’s sake, did the guy own anything that wasn't leather? The two men locked gazes, the active hatred in the pixie’s eyes nothing new to Nick.

He didn’t get a chance to say anything because the room filled quickly. As well as Rudi and the pixie, there were a couple of other shifters, werewolves if he wasn’t mistaken, and an ethereally beautiful woman who had to be some kind of nymph.

“Thank you for all being here on time.” Rudi moved to the head of the table, calling the meeting to order just by speaking. The others in the room instantly sat up a little straighter, paying attention as she spoke.

“Okay, as you’re all alive and haven’t been living under a rock for the last month I’m going to assume you’ve all heard about the armed gang the police are referring to as the ‘Grotto Gang’.”

All credit to them, there wasn’t one snigger due to the name. Instead, every person in the room listened intently as she went over the details of the recent attacks. Nick had read the file from beginning to end, so he didn’t listen. Instead, he watched her.

She’d changed. He hadn’t missed the way she walked and moved now. Like she was harder somehow, the subtle vibes coming off her saying she knew how to handle herself in a fight. A fact he’d seen yesterday when she’d kept him and the pixie from kicking seven bells out of each other.

She wasn’t the soft, laughing, happy-go-lucky woman he’d known five years ago. She’d always been capable… hell, she was practically a living legend at the Pole. Were-deer were rare as hell, and the other deer loved them. If it was Rudi heading up a sleigh team, then Christmas night went like a dream. She never got lost, never missed a drop and kept her deer, and her Santa, in order. She’d made him look good, but the arrogant tosser he was, he hadn’t realized. He’d thought it was all down to him, the grandson of St. Nick himself.

He hadn’t realized what he had until he’d lost it. Fucking idiot.

Five years ago, they’d been a happy couple. The closest thing the North Pole had to royalty. Tensions always ran high at Christmas for obvious reasons and they’d argued at the wrap party. Only something small, so small he’d forgotten what it was now, but she’d stormed off and he’d gotten rip-roaring drunk. So drunk he couldn’t remember getting home.

The next morning he’d woken and snuggled up next to the woman next to him, thankful she’d forgiven him. Only to find it wasn’t Rudi…