Mary lifted her face to the biting wind, willing the heat in her cheeks to freeze.
Her father could be out in this miserable storm, having been chased from his hideout at Moose Lodge. And here Mary was dreaming of getting naked with a stranger.
An outsider who’d saved her life. A man she was afraid to trust, not so much with her life, but because she highly suspected he could break her heart. The chill wind did nothing to cool the heat raging inside. If she didn’t need Nick’s help to find her father, Mary would have ditched the secret agent—or whatever he was.
Nick St. Claire had disaster written all over him. At least for Mary. She’d made the mistake of falling for a man with a boatload of secrets once before, and Nick had secrets...lots of them. All of which he wasn’t willing to share.
Bradley had seduced her into false dreams of happily ever after. They’d made love on the banks of the Tanana River that summer two years ago. Summer ended when his wife e-mailed Mary. Bradley swore he didn’t know her. By then, Mary knew he’d lied, yet again.
She’d had nightmares about Bradley, dreaming up all manner of horrible things she wanted to do to him for duping her and his wife. Although the pain had faded, she’d never gotten over the shame of being the other woman who’d broken up a marriage.
Mary refused to land in a trap that deep ever again. If she had a relationship with any man, that man would have to come clean with all his secrets.
As they arrived at the diner, Mary shot a look at Nick. She’d get a few of her questions answered here and now, or she’d take him down with his own gun.
“Miss Mary!” A little girl with dark ringlets spilling down the back of her pink flannel dress raced up to Mary as soon as she stepped through the diner door.
“Lissa!” Mary moved out of the draft and scooped up the little girl in her arms. “How’s my favorite elf?”
“I’m going to be six on my next birthday.” She wrapped her skinny, little arms around Mary’s neck.
“Already? Hey, loosen up there. I need to breathe.” Mary pulled the tiny arms from around her neck and stared into the girl’s dark brown eyes.
“I’m sorry, she got away from me before I could stop her.” A pretty woman with shoulder-length hair the exact shade of Lissa’s hurried over. “She’s just been beside herself since she heard Santa was missing.”
Lissa planted her hands on Mary’s cheeks and forced her to look straight at her. “Is Santa gone? Will he miss Christmas?”
“Oh, baby, yes, Santa’s gone right now. But he’ll be back in time for Christmas. Don’t you worry. He’ll be back.” Mary was proud of herself. She hugged the little girl and handed her back to her mother before a single tear could slip down her cheeks. She made it all the way over to a booth on the opposite end of the diner before the first one fell.
Nick yanked a napkin from the shiny metal napkin holder and handed it to her. “Do all the kids in North Pole believe in Santa?”
She looked at him over the napkin. “Of course. All the children love my father. He’s an icon for the community.” She dabbed at her drying tears, then flapped the napkin. “Children from all over the world visit here and he takes time with every one of them to listen to their wishes.”
“I bet it makes for great sales.” Nick’s flat tone said it all.
Mary’s hand slammed down on the table in front of him. “It’s not all about the sales.” She glared across the table at Nick. “You don’t get Christmas at all, do you?”
“Okay, okay, I’m coming with the coffee.” Betty Reedy hurried across the floor, her plump face flushed.
“I’m sorry, Betty. I was just explaining to Mr. St. Claire that my father being gone means more than a drop in revenue.”
Betty’s eyes widened at Nick. “Is that what you think?”
Nick’s jaw tightened. “Isn’t that what Christmas is all about? Massive amounts of sales to make up for the rest of a dismal year in the retail world?”
“My poor Mr. St. Claire, you must have had a very sad childhood if you’ve never believed in Santa.” She set two mugs on the table, her tongue tsking the entire time. “Santa is more than just making a sale. He brings hope, love and happiness for many children and adults. I’ve heard that Mrs. Attebury’s Sunday school class is writing prayer requests to bring him home safely. The children all over Alaska will be sorely disappointed if he doesn’t get back in time to participate with the National Guard in Operation Santa.”
“Operation Santa?” Nick shook his head.
“Yes, Operation Santa.” Mary sat forward. “Fifty years ago, the Alaskan National Guard started a program called Operation Santa to take the joy of Christmas and Santa out to the remote villages. Many of those children would never have seen Santa or received gifts without it. And my father spends time and his own money on each of those children.”
“Charity.” Nick snorted. “Charity only makes the giver feel good about himself.”
“Says who?” Mary and Betty both spoke at once.
“It’s not important. Forget I said anything.” He lifted the menu blocking Mary’s view of his face.
Betty huffed and opened her mouth to say something more, but a customer called out her name. With a wrinkled nose and a flounce in her step, she left to help.
