Nick of Time. Elle James
way Mary’s eyes shone suspiciously, as if she were close to tears.
The teenager, Chris, held the door for her and stared hard into her eyes. “It’ll be all right, Mary. Your father will be all right, and we’ll find him.”
She reached out and gripped his hand, glad for one person’s support in this world gone crazy. “Thanks, Chris.”
Nick followed her out into the blistering cold where he snagged her suitcase.
“I told you, I don’t need your help anymore.” Mary reached out to take the suitcase from him.
He backed away, refusing to let her have the bag. “Let me help.”
“I can take care of myself.”
His face softened. “Even two blocks is a long way with a windchill factor of minus thirty. Please, let me take you where you need to go.”
As if to reinforce Nick’s words, the cold wind blasted through Mary’s thick wool coat and winter scarf.
Beyond exhaustion, Mary didn’t argue. Instead, she climbed into the passenger seat while Nick stored her case in the trunk.
When he climbed in behind the wheel, she turned to him. “I don’t want you to think you’re stuck with me. But thanks.” She leaned her head against the headrest and closed her eyes. “I should have known something was wrong. I should have come home sooner. My dad is the only family I have left.”
“Why should you have known?” Nick’s hand paused on the shift.
“Yesterday I got a message on my answering machine from Dad. He said it was urgent that we talk. When I tried to call him back, I got Kim and she didn’t know where he was. That’s when I caught a flight from Seattle to Fairbanks.”
“Did he say what he wanted to talk about?”
“No.” Mary sighed. “My father is normally pretty laid-back. He must be in big trouble, that’s all I can think.” She’d been talking to Nick as if he weren’t an outsider, weren’t a man she’d met only a couple of hours ago. Angry with herself for trusting the stranger, Mary turned to him, her eyes narrowing. “Why are you in North Pole? You told Kim you knew my father, you told me you had business with him. I don’t recall my father ever mentioning your name.”
He pulled out of the parking lot, easing onto the snowcovered road. “He probably hasn’t. We don’t talk much.”
“Obviously.” North Pole hadn’t changed much since she’d been gone; the usual snowfall had settled on the landscape, giving credence to the town’s winter wonderland atmosphere. She gestured toward a large old house banked in snow. “This is the B and B.”
After they secured rooms, Nick turned to Mary. “I’d like to help you find your father.”
“Thanks, but you really don’t need to get involved. You’ve already done enough getting me here.” She turned her back to him and jammed her key into the lock on her bedroom door. She liked to think she could handle the situation on her own, but the fact her father was missing and no one seemed to have a clue as to his whereabouts swept over her in an overwhelming wave. Her hand trembled on the metal key.
“At least meet me for breakfast somewhere besides here. I like more than a continental breakfast and I’m new to town.” He paused as though waiting for her response.
Mary couldn’t find her voice to say no, her throat clogged with unshed tears.
“If it makes you feel better, we can go Dutch.”
She glanced over her shoulder, her lips forming the word no. But one look into deep brown, twinkling eyes and she couldn’t resist. Much as she hated to admit, she needed help. Maybe by having breakfast with the man she could get to know him better before she committed to his offer. She swallowed the lump and blurted, “How about the Christmas Towne Diner at eight o’clock? It’s just across the street.”
“Sounds good.” He gave her half a smile. “Good night, Mary Christmas.” Then he closed his door behind him, the deep resonance of his voice lingering in the hallway, warming Mary’s insides.
Their rooms were located across the hall from each other, and for some reason that idea disturbed Mary, not like an irritant, but like a full-body awareness. She was far too conscious of Nick’s good looks, broad shoulders and brown-black eyes. Not to mention, the more she was in his company, the more she seemed to rely on him. And she didn’t want to rely on anyone but herself. She’d relied on her father for so long, she’d forgotten to have a life for herself. The time she’d been in Seattle slammed that observation home. She didn’t know how to be alone and she still didn’t like it, but she was trying.
Mary spent the next hour calling everyone she knew in North Pole, asking if they’d seen her father. Those she managed to speak to replied with the same news. Not since yesterday.
Discouraged, she gathered her toiletries and made a run down the hallway for the bathroom. As she reached the door, it opened and Nick St. Claire stepped out. With a towel thrown around his hips and nothing else, he could melt the heaviest snowfall. Water dripped from his midnight-black hair. A particular droplet landed on his chest and tangled in the dark, crisp hairs.
Mary focused on that drop, her mouth going as dry as Arizona in August.
“It’s all yours,” he said.
Her mouth dropped open and she forced her gaze upward to his eyes.
Nick’s grin made Mary’s face burn. “The shower. It’s all yours.”
Snapping her jaw shut, Mary pressed her brows together. How could this stranger throw her into such a state of moronic confusion? “Of course.” She stepped around him, bumping into his bare arm. The scent of soap and shampoo wafted across her senses.
As she reached the security of the bathroom and closed the door behind her, a soft chuckle echoed in the hallway. Mary snapped the lock over the doorway and leaned against the wooden panels. Surely he didn’t think his bare chest and broad shoulders had her confused. Did he?
Her face burned hotter. Damn, the man was trouble. She should never have agreed to meet him in the morning at the diner. As soon as she finished in the shower, she’d tell him she’d had something come up and that she couldn’t have breakfast with him. Squeezing her eyes tight, she inhaled and exhaled, concentrating on banishing the image of a shirtless Nick from her memory. As if!
She hurried through her shower and teeth brushing. Still practicing what she’d say to Nick, she stepped out of the bathroom.
A big man bulked out in a winter-white parka, ski mask and snow pants barreled down the hall and slammed his shoulder into her before exiting out the rear of the building.
Mary banged into the wall, her breath knocked out of her. Pain smashed into her shoulder blade and radiated through her back and she cried out.
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