Midnight Under the Mistletoe (8 page)

“Before I forget,” he said, “let me go get something that came
in the mail earlier.” He set down his bottle of beer and left to return with a
large envelope. “Since you like family so much, here are pictures of our half
sister’s wedding to Garrett, our CFO and a longtime family friend. Bring your
drink and we’ll look at the pictures together.”

She sat down on the sofa, and Zach sat beside her, removing a
book of bound pictures from the envelope.

“Garrett has married Sophia, our half sister. We didn’t know we
had a half sister until the reading of Dad’s will. You can imagine the shock,
particularly to my mother. I thought we might have to call an ambulance and I’m
not joking about it. She had no clue. No one could understand my dad. Not any of
us, definitely not my mother. I don’t think she even tried. Maybe Sophia’s
mother. He never married her, but he kept her in his life until the end.”

“Sounds sad, Zach.”

“Don’t start feeling sorry for me over my dad. All of us wanted
Sophia in the family. First, we really wanted her—that should please you.
Second—Sophia, as well as all of us, stood to inherit a fortune from Dad if she
became involved with the Delaney company. It was his way of forcing us to get
her into the family. And forcing her to join us. Sophia was incredibly bitter
over Dad and wanted no part of this family.”

“Even though you were her half brothers?”

“That’s where Garrett came in and you can see the results. We
all like her and Garrett loves her.”

Emma looked over the photographs. “She’s beautiful and they
both look radiantly happy.”

“You’re enough of a romantic to think that no matter what the
picture shows.”

Emma stuck her tongue out at him, making him grin.

He looked at her profile while she studied the pictures. Her
skin was flawless, her lashes thick and had a slight curl. Locks of red hair
spilled onto her shoulders. He set down his beer, took her drink from her hand
and then placed it and the book of pictures on the table. He pulled her into his
arms to kiss her.

Her mouth was soft, opening like the petals of a rose. Heat
spilled in him, centering in his manhood. He couldn’t get enough of her,
relishing every luscious curve, her softness sending his temperature soaring.
She wrapped her arms around him, kissing him in return, and he forgot dinner
again.

Five

B
y Monday morning a bright sun made snow
sparkle and icicles had a steady drip as ice and snow melted. When Emma went to
the office she glanced out to see the snowman they had built Sunday afternoon.
She had pictures of Zach clowning by the snowman.

Zach had run inside and returned with one of Rosie’s aprons to
put on the snowman. He removed the snowman’s hat and placed sprigs of cedar for
hair so he had a snow-woman. He posed for a picture with his arms around the
snow-woman’s waist and with Zach puckered to give the snow-woman a kiss.

Remembering, she smiled. They had turned the snow-woman back
into a snowman because Zach said he needed to return Rosie’s apron. She’d
reminded him that
he
wore that very apron to cook
their steaks Saturday nights, a point he’d conceded.

Monday was uneventful except she couldn’t lose the constant
awareness she had of Zach. She was getting too close to him, enjoying his
company too much. The weekend had brought intimacy and an emotional bonding that
she may have been the only one to experience. She thought about the job ending
soon and not seeing Zach again, so the problem would resolve itself. In spite of
the weekend, it seemed wiser to put the brakes on a relationship. How deeply did
she want to get involved with him? They were totally different with different
priorities and vastly different lifestyles. The weekend had been magical, but
they were shut away into almost a dream world, isolated in the storm on the
ranch. She should develop some resistance and keep from sinking deeper into
growing close to him. At least she should try. The intimate weekend was over and
she should avoid another if she could dredge up the willpower.

That evening she learned that he was having his dinner in the
office. Disappointment was coupled with knowledge that she was better off not
seeing him. As she filled her plate in the kitchen, she quizzed Rosie about how
Zach spent his holidays and received the same version she’d heard from Zach.

“Christmas decorations are in the attic and haven’t been
touched in years because it’s been so long since any of the family has been at
the ranch at Christmas,” Rosie said. “Nigel used to put them up in case the
family came, but he stopped years ago because the Delaneys were rarely at the
ranch in December. Actually, this house has been closed most of the time for the
past ten years and the foreman runs the ranch.”

Emma picked at her dinner, her focus on Rosie.

Peeling and cutting carrots, Rosie stood at the counter. “When
Adam, Zach’s eldest brother, was born, Mrs. Delaney was delighted and gave him
her attention. He had a nanny and Nigel and I worked for them in the Dallas
home. Back then, they had lots of help. By the time Will was born, Mrs. Delaney
was losing interest. When Zach came along she wasn’t happy and she told me
herself—no more babies. They had their family.”

“Rosie, that’s awful,” Emma said, thinking how every baby was
so welcome in her family. Each birth was a huge celebration.

“That’s the way she was. In those days she and Mr. Delaney were
going their separate ways. When she got pregnant with Ryan, Mrs. Delaney had a
screaming fit. She didn’t want another child and she made that clear. She had
lost interest in her boys.”

“I can’t imagine,” Emma said, deep in thought about Zach.

“No. They were good boys. Adam was eight, Will was seven, Zach,
five. She couldn’t wait to get them out of the house and into boarding school.
She sent Adam that year. Next year, Will went. Two years later, Zach went.”

“That seems too young to send them away.”

“Zach was never the same. He closed up and shut himself off. As
a little fellow, he would hug me and climb into my lap. That all stopped. He was
getting too big to get on my lap, but the hugs vanished. He was quieter, more
remote.”

“You and Nigel both seem to have a close relationship with
him.”

“Zach is nice to work for and I love him like another son, but
he keeps his thoughts to himself. Any woman who thinks she’ll come into his life
and change him is in for a big disappointment.”

“I can’t imagine his solitary life,” Emma said. “My family is
like yours and we all gather together on holidays.”

“Their mother just turned off the love, if she had ever really
loved them. It hurt those boys. Maybe not Adam and Will so much because they
were the oldest and had had more of her attention.”

“I don’t understand how she could do that.”

“She’s hardly ever laid eyes on Caroline who is her only oldest
grandchild, the daughter of Adam, who sadly passed away. She has no interest in
the little girl. Caroline is showered with love by all those around her, so I
don’t think she’s noticed or realized yet, but when she gets older, she will.
Mrs. Delaney’s interest is in herself. She doesn’t come see them. Anyway, this
is the first Christmas for a Delaney to be here on the ranch in years. I don’t
think Zach pays much attention to Christmas. He hasn’t been home in years for a
holiday celebration.”

“I can’t imagine that either. At Christmas, home is the only
place I want to be.”

“I agree,” Rosie said, smiling broadly. “Open the pantry
door.”

Emma did and saw snapshots of children, babies, adults,
teens.

“That’s my family,” Rosie said. “Zach has given me time off and
I will be with my family for Christmas.” She wiped her hands and came close to
tell Emma the name and relationship of each person.

“That’s wonderful, Rosie. I know you can’t wait to see
them.”

“Most are in Fort Worth, but others are scattered across Texas.
Dallas, San Antonio, Fredericksburg. I’ll be off for three weeks.”

“This will be a fun Christmas for you,” Emma said, wondering if
Zach would enjoy being alone as much as he said he did.

Later, while as she ran on the treadmill, Emma thought about
all Rosie had said. Emma suspected Zach would not put up any Christmas
decorations. She glanced at the ceiling, thinking about the room upstairs that
led into the attic. Emma’s jaw firmed. She would decorate for Zach. She wanted
Christmas reminders in her room and on her desk, but while she was at it, she
would decorate the house a little if she found the Christmas decorations.

Nigel was gone by six each evening. By now Rosie might have
left. As soon as she finished on the treadmill and showered, Emma pulled on
fresh jeans and a red T-shirt. In the attic it took only minutes to find
containers, systematically marked Christmas and each box had an attached list of
contents.

She carried a box to the office and placed decorations around
her area. She glanced toward Zach’s desk and debated, leaving it alone except
for one small Christmas tree she placed to one side.

Wondering whether she would encounter Zach, she carried another
box to the family room. In the attic she had spotted a beautiful white Christmas
tree covered in transparent plastic and tomorrow she intended to ask Nigel to
help her get it into the family room.

Maybe the decorations would get Zach into the holiday
spirit.

In the family room she placed artificial greenery on the mantel
and then placed sparkling balls, artificial frosted fruit. She set long red
candles in a silver candelabra in the dining room, arranging them on the mantel.
The scrape of a shoe made her turn toward the door as Zach entered.

He stopped to glance around. His black T-shirt and faded, tight
jeans set her insides fluttering.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Decorating a bit for Christmas since the holiday
approaches.”

Zach’s gaze met hers as he crossed the room. “I don’t care
about your room or your desk. Otherwise, don’t put this stuff up in the house.
Your intentions are nice, but this isn’t what I hired you to do,” he said,
stopping only a few feet away.

“I’m not using work hours to do this,” she said. “I thought
you’d like it.”

“No. I don’t want the clutter. It’s old stuff and doesn’t
conjure up warm memories. I’ll get Nigel to see that it’s cleared away.”

“I can take it out,” she said. “I didn’t know it would be
hurtful.”

“It isn’t hurtful,” he said, with a slight harshness to his
tone. “I just don’t want it around and it’s time-consuming to put up and take
down. Besides, you shouldn’t be lugging those heavy boxes out of the attic. The
decorations are meaningless. These are old decorations that should be
tossed.”

“You don’t think your family, Caroline in particular, might
enjoy them?”

His eyes narrowed. “I’m having an argument over Christmas
decorations. Caroline’s house in Dallas and the house in Colorado will probably
be decorated from top to bottom. She doesn’t need more here.”

“You don’t think she’ll see you as Scrooge?”

“No, she won’t. I’ll have presents for her and she’s so excited
over the baby, she won’t care what’s happening here. Caroline has reverted back
to a very happy child, which is what she was before she lost her dad. These
decorations won’t matter to her. When she’s older, she’ll accept me the way I
am. Maybe view me as her eccentric uncle.”

“Very well,” Emma said quietly.

“I’m fine about Christmas and the holiday isn’t about
decorations. Stop looking at me as if I’ve lost my fortune or some other
disaster has befallen me.”

“I don’t think losing your fortune would be as disastrous as
what you are losing. And I know Christmas isn’t about decorations. You childhood
doesn’t have to carry over in the same way now.”

“Stop worrying about me being alone,” he said, smiling, his
voice growing lighter as he stepped closer and placed his hands on her
shoulders. His blue eyes were as riveting as ever. Her heart thudded and longing
for his kisses taunted her.

He glanced around and walked to the big box of decorations to
rummage in it.

“What are you doing?”

“What you wanted. I’ll observe one old Christmas custom. There
are some decorations I want.”

Smiling, wondering what he searched for, she stepped
closer.

“Here’s one,” he said, pulling out a decorative hanging cage
filled with sprigs of artificial mistletoe. “I’ll put mistletoe up all over this
part of the house. Let’s see if we can follow one Christmas tradition,” he
added, his tone lowering another notch, strumming over her nerves. “You can help
with this.”

“I don’t think that’s such a great idea,” she whispered.

“I think it’s fantastic.” He attached the ornament to the hook
on the top of the door, then stood beneath it. “You want some Christmas
traditions in my life. Well, here’s one,” he said, winding his arm around her
waist to draw her closer as he leaned forward.

His mouth was warm, his lips firm on hers. She opened to him,
melting against him while her unspoken protests crashed and burned.

Wrapping her arm around his narrow waist, she held him tightly.
Her heart thudded and she could feel his heart pounding. Desire fanned heat as
an inner storm built.

Her moan sounded distant. Longing strummed over every nerve.
She had intended to avoid moments like this, stay coolly removed from anything
personal with him. Instead, she was tumbling into fires that consumed her. Need
became a throbbing ache, more demanding than before.

Their passionate kiss lengthened, became urgent. She wound her
fingers in the tight curls at the back of his neck. Time vanished and the world
around them disappeared. Zach’s kisses were all she wanted.

How could it seem so right to be in his arms? To kiss him? They
were far too different in every way that counted for it to seem like the best
place to be when he held her. His kisses had become essential to her, yet their
lifestyles clashed. She held him tightly as if his kisses were as necessary to
her as the air in the room.

One hand wound in her hair while he kissed her, his other hand
caressing her nape.

Finally, she leaned away. “Zach, this isn’t what I
planned.”

He raised his head, his blue eyes filled with hunger. He
glanced overhead. “I’m surprised the mistletoe hasn’t burst into flames. Now I’m
glad you got out the Christmas box. Let me see if there’s more mistletoe in
there.” His husky voice conveyed lust as much as the flames in his crystal eyes.
He turned to rummage in the box again. “Here are three more bunches. I have just
the places. Come help me hang these.”

“I still don’t think I should. Zach, we’re sinking deeper into
something we were going to avoid.”

“You started this. You can’t back out now. C’mon.” He left the
family room and headed for the office, stopping in the doorway to hand her two
of the bunches. “This is perfect,” he said, giving her a long look that shivered
through her. “You wait while I get a hammer.”

He disappeared into the hall. Common sense urged restraint. Now
she wished she had left Christmas decorations alone. In minutes he was back. She
watched him reach up to push a tack into the wood to hold a sprig of mistletoe
tied with a red ribbon. He tapped it lightly with the hammer. She passed him,
crossing the office to her desk. She wanted space between them.

She could hear him hanging the mistletoe, but she didn’t want
to watch. She straightened her desk and wondered if she could tell him to take
the last sprig and go. She would put the box of decorations away when Zach
wasn’t around. She had never thought about mistletoe, never expected to even see
him tonight.

She thought about the sharp tone in his voice when he had first
spotted the Christmas decorations. Was he all bottled up over old hurts? When it
came to interacting with other people, from what she had seen, Zach was warm and
friendly. Were old hurts still keeping part of him locked away from sharing life
with those closest to him?

After he hung the mistletoe, he turned to her as he stood
beneath it. “Emma, come here a minute.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said, wanting to laugh, yet feeling
her insides clinch over his invitation.