Nick’s door sprang open and he raced out into the hallway. “Mary! What happened?” He reached her in three long strides and grabbed her shoulders, his hands spreading warmth through the thick fleece of her bathrobe.
“I’m all right. Someone just ran into me and left through the back exit.”
Noise from a room down the hallway caught their attention and they both turned. The sound came from her room.
Nick grabbed her hand and ran to his room, shoving her inside. He held out his hand. “Give me your key.”
Wordlessly, she handed him the key from her pocket.
“Stay here,” he commanded, and then he closed his door, leaving her alone inside.
Unable to stand by patiently by herself, not knowing what was going on, Mary eased the door open and peered out into the hallway.
Nick slipped the key into the doorknob as quietly as possible and stepped to the side of the door before he flung it open.
Crouching behind Nick’s door, Mary could see straight into her room. The window stood wide open, a flurry of snowflakes and wind blew through the confined space, turning the warmth of the quaint little room with its handmade quilts into an icebox. Other than the antique furniture, the room stood empty.
Mary stepped out into the hallway, wrapping the robe around her, chills setting in. Someone had been in her room. The thought made her shake all over.
Nick brushed the snow off the sill and pulled the window closed, latching the lock in place. When he turned to see her, he frowned. “I thought I told you to stay put.”
Her back straightened and she moved into her room with more purpose. “It’s my room. My things are in here.”
“Yeah, but it could have been dangerous.”
Despite her desire not to show any weakness, a big shiver made her shake from her head to her feet. She pulled her robe tighter. “I could see there wasn’t anyone in it.” Her mouth firmed into a tight line. “Besides, you don’t have to yell at me. You’re not my boss or my father.”
“I wasn’t yelling,” he yelled. His forehead creased into a deep frown before the hint of a grin wiped it away. “I’d rather you stayed in my room until we figure this out.” He hooked her elbow and led her out into the hallway.
She only half resisted, not wanting to stay in her room by herself. Somehow it felt as if the entire B and B had been violated and was no longer a secure place. She let him lead her into his room, where he tossed on a sweater, his winter coat and snow boots.
“Where are you going?” she asked.
“To follow the footprints.”
“By yourself?” She grabbed his arm, stopping him from zipping the jacket. “What if those guys are dangerous?”
Nick shook off her hand, slid the zipper up to his neck and ducked around her, grabbing a gun from the dresser by the door. “Just stay here.”
The gun sent another wave of chills across her skin and Mary stood where Nick left her, wondering what the hell she’d gotten into by coming home to North Pole. And just who was this gun-toting mystery man named Nick St. Claire?
Chapter 4
A blast of arctic air hit Nick like a freight train. He staggered at the force and bent into it, pushing through three feet of snow to the side of the B and B where Mary’s room was located. Disturbed snow only confirmed his concern. Someone had come through Mary’s window while she’d been in the shower. And from the looks of the footprints leading away, he’d gone back out the same window. Which didn’t explain the man in the hallway who’d run into Mary before exiting through the back door, a much more civilized approach than the window.
Nick trudged through the snow as fast as he could, following the footprints into the woods. Every so often, he looked over his shoulder to keep the light from the B and B in sight. The snow blew sideways in near-blizzard conditions. Although he’d like to catch the guy, he didn’t relish getting lost in the storm. An engine roared to life in the distance and the noise diminished as if moving away. Sounded like a snowmobile. Another engine revved and followed the first. Had the two men been working together? And what did they want with Mary?
Figuring the men were out of his reach, Nick hurried back to the B and B to ensure that Santa’s daughter was safe. He also wanted to inspect her room for any tampering or clues as to why someone would be there.
The blue-eyed woman met him at his bedroom door still wearing her robe. The towel had been removed from her hair, and wet tresses lay finger-combed into sleek, damp strands reaching all the way to her waist. Her rounded gaze darted from him to the exit and across the hall to her room, where her door stood open. “Who was it? Did you catch him? No, of course, you didn’t or you’d have been gone a lot longer. You scared me to death.” She slapped her open palm against his chest. “Running out of here like some cop on a mission. And what’s with the gun?” She backed up a step and glared at the hand holding the weapon. “Why are you carrying it?”
He shrugged, stalling. “Doesn’t everyone carry a gun in Alaska?”
“Rifles and shotguns when they’re hunting or out on the trails, but not so much the handguns.” Her eyes narrowed. “Just what are you doing here in North Pole? You don’t really know my father, do you?”
Busted. Now, how did he back out of this? “I don’t suppose this could wait until morning?”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “No way, cowboy.”
