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All I Want For Christmas
GINA WILKINS
All she wants for Christmas Doll-shop owner Ryan Clark wants one thing–a family. She's ready for a lifetime pledge of babies and deep, soul-warming contentment. But first she has to find a reliable man…All he wants for Christmas Max Monroe's sole aim in life is to be free. No ties, no commitments–that's his motto. Then he meets gorgeous Ryan Clark.…All they want for Christmas Orphans Pip and Kelsey want a new mom and dad. And they have Ryan and Max in mind for the positions. With Santa backing them, how can they lose?



“Oh, no. Not now.”
“What—?” Max began to ask, but was cut off when the elevator jerked to a stop. Max reached out instinctively to steady Ryan when she stumbled. His hands lingered on her shoulders. “It stopped,” he said unnecessarily, staring at the frozen floor numbers.
“It did this the other day,” Ryan said with a sigh. “I was stuck in here for about ten minutes with—er—Santa Claus.”
Max didn’t smile. He pressed the alarm button, but nothing happened. Tugging at the collar of his shirt, he asked, “How long did you say you were stuck in here?”
“Ten minutes, roughly.” She eyed him warily. “Don’t tell me you’re claustrophobic.”
“Not usually. It’s just that I don’t relish being stuck in an elevator. What did you do?”
“Santa distracted me.”
“A distraction, hmm? Sounds like a good idea,” Max said. Then, before she had a chance to protest, he took her in his arms and lowered his lips to hers.

All I Want for Christmas
Gina Wilkins


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

GINA WILKINS
A lifelong resident of Arkansas, romance bestselling author Gina Wilkins has written more than eighty books for Harlequin and Silhouette Books. She is a four-time recipient of the Maggie Award for Excellence presented by the Georgia Romance Writers, and she was a nominee for a Lifetime Achievement Award by Romantic Times BOOKreviews. She credits her successful career in romance to her long, happy marriage and three “extraordinary” offspring.

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1
“PIP,” six-year-old Kelsey whispered to her nine-year-old brother. “This mall is so crowded. How will we ever find our parents?”
It was the Friday after Thanksgiving, the busiest shopping day of the year. Drawn by well-advertised sales and a sudden, panicky awareness that Christmas was only a month away, shoppers had turned out in droves. And the mall was ready for them.
Cheery renditions of Christmas carols blared from unseen speakers. Dozens of artificial Christmas trees sparkled and glittered. Greenery, lights, tinsel and bows—it was a carefully choreographed Christmas wonderland.
Pip and Kelsey walked hand in hand through the chaos, wide-eyed and openmouthed. They were looking at a veritable wall of legs and backsides ahead of them.
“We’ll find them,” Pip said with a confidence that belied his nervous expression. “Don’t worry.”
Kelsey’s faith in her older brother was unconditional and limitless. She smiled at him and squeezed his hand, trusting him to make everything right. Just as she’d always trusted him to take care of her.
A colorful gingerbread house had been constructed in the center of the lower level of the four-story mall. A front porch supported by large plastic peppermint canes held an inviting, oversize rocker. In it sat a plump figure dressed in red, whose warm smile gleamed from under a thick white beard. A long line of children waited to sit in his inviting lap, their eyes shining with anticipation and greed.
“Pip, look!” Kelsey pointed. “It’s Santa.”
Pip nodded, glancing from the gingerbread house to the dollar-a-ride train slowly circling in front of it. He was worried that Kelsey would want to ride the train; the ten dollars tucked into the pocket of his worn jeans wouldn’t last long if they spent it on rides.
But Kelsey had another idea. “Let’s get in line and talk to Santa. He’ll know where we can find our parents.”
Pip winced. “Kelsey…”
She was tugging at his hand, pulling him toward the end of the long, restless line of children. “He’ll know, Pip,” she said confidently, looking up at him with her enormous, bright blue eyes. “I’m sure he will.”
Pip started to speak, but found he couldn’t shake the unwavering trust in Kelsey’s eyes. He shrugged. “Okay, you can talk to him. But don’t expect too much, Kels. After all, he’s just one of Santa’s helpers, remember? And whatever you do, don’t tell him we’re here by ourselves, okay? He’ll call the welfare people.”
Kelsey’s eyes grew even rounder. She shook her head vigorously, the movement causing her long, white blond curls to sway around her thin shoulders. “Santa wouldn’t turn us in,” she insisted. “Not before we have a chance to find our parents.”
Pip groaned. “Kelsey, promise you won’t tell him.”
She heaved a long-suffering sigh. “Okay, I won’t. But I will tell him we want to find our parents by Christmas!” she added with an uncharacteristic touch of defiance.
Pip nodded. “Okay, you can tell him that.” It couldn’t hurt, he decided.
It seemed to take hours before they finally reached the head of the line, though it couldn’t have been more than thirty minutes. Pip shook his head at the elf-garbed woman who wanted to take their picture—only six dollars for a four-by-six instant snapshot in a commemorative folder, she told them brightly. He walked his sister to Santa’s chair, then stood guard nearby as she climbed eagerly onto the man’s velvet-covered knee.
Shrewd but kind green eyes studied Pip for a moment before turning to his giggling sister. “What’s your name?” Santa asked her, his voice not booming and loud, as she’d expected, but warm and friendly.
“Kelsey Coleman,” she replied, with just a hint of a reproving frown. “But I thought you’d know that already.”
“Kelsey?” He seemed surprised as he peered at her through his tiny round glasses. “Goodness, how you’ve grown since last year! I hardly knew you.”
Appeased, she giggled again. “I’ve grown about four inches,” she informed him proudly. “And that’s Pip,” she added, waving a hand toward her brother. “He’s grown feets and feets.”
“Yes, he is much bigger than he was,” Santa agreed, turning those intent eyes on Pip once again.
The boy shifted position, feeling a bit uncomfortable beneath the scrutiny. He was relieved when the white-bearded man turned his attention back to Kelsey.
“So, Kelsey,” Santa said encouragingly, “what can I do for you this year?”
The little girl took a deep breath, clasped her tiny hands tightly in her lap and gazed up at him. “I only want our parents this year, Santa. I don’t need any toys—well, not many, anyway,” she amended carefully. “But mostly I just want our parents.”
Santa blinked behind his lenses. “Your parents?”
She nodded fervently. “Not our first parents, of course. They’re dead. But Pip says we can find new parents who will love us and take care of us and always let us be together. Aunt Opal and Aunt Essie don’t really want us and they said they’re going to split us up after Christmas, but me and Pip ain’t going to let them. Pip says no one can split us up, especially after we find our new parents. Will you help us find them, Santa?”
Santa listened to every word of the child’s artless rambling. Pip held his breath, regretting his sister’s tendency to talk too much and hoping this Santa’s helper wouldn’t do or say the wrong thing. Kelsey was so easily crushed.
“You know, Kelsey,” Santa said slowly, “I usually bring toys for Christmas, not parents.”
She nodded, a bit disappointed with his answer.
He scratched his beard. “However…”
She brightened and looked up hopefully when he spoke again.
“I’ll see what I can do,” he said, gently squeezing her hands.
Pip thought his sister’s smile was brighter than all the Christmas lights in the mall. “Thank you,” she said, impulsively throwing her arms around the man’s substantial waist. “Oh, thank you, Santa.”
“Now, now, you must wait until afterward to thank me,” he admonished. He reached into a nearby basket and plucked out two candy canes. “Here’s a candy for you and one for your brother.”
“Thank you,” she said, hopping down from his lap. “When will we find our parents, Santa?”
“That remains to be seen. But in the meantime, have you seen the new doll shop upstairs on the third floor? I’m sure you’ll enjoy it. It’s one of my very favorites.”
Kelsey’s face lit up again. “A doll shop?”
Pip swallowed a groan, knowing where he’d have to take her next.
Santa patted the little girl’s blond head, then looked at Pip. “You take very good care of your little sister, you hear?”
Pip nodded somberly. “I intend to, sir.”
“Good. Oh, and you might want to look into the sporting-goods store across from the doll shop. There are some fascinating things to be found in sporting-goods stores these days.”
Pip took Kelsey’s hand. “Maybe I will.”
He fancied that he could almost feel the warmth of the bearded man’s smile as he and Kelsey walked away.
PIP NEARLY GAGGED when he saw the name of the doll shop. “Beautiful Babies?” he groaned. “Give me a break.”
But Kelsey was still tugging at his hand. “I want to go in, Pip. Santa said it was his most-favorite store. Please? I just want to see it.”
Pip couldn’t hold out against her pleading eyes. He sighed manfully and allowed himself to be towed inside.
Kelsey was entranced from the moment she walked into the shop and saw the rows and rows of dolls. Baby dolls. Fashion dolls. Collector dolls. Handmade dolls. One-of-a-kind dolls. Pip could certainly understand why Kelsey liked the place; if he were a girl, he thought indulgently, he’d probably like it, too.
“Pip,” Kelsey said in the high-pitched, breathless voice she reserved for very special excitement. “Look.”
The doll was displayed at Kelsey’s eye level. It had thick, curly dark hair, huge black eyes and a painted pink smile. It wore a pale blue dress with white lace, and tiny white shoes. Pip thought it was okay. Kelsey, apparently, thought it the most beautiful doll she’d ever seen.
“Oh,” she whispered. “Can I pick it up, Pip? Please? I’ll be very careful.”
Pip checked the store. Other kids were holding dolls, admiring and cuddling them as their mothers watched or shopped. “Sure,” he said. “You can hold her. But just for a minute.”
Kelsey lifted the doll as though it were made of the most fragile glass rather than soft plastic. Such love shone from her eyes that Pip wondered if maybe he could buy her the doll for Christmas. He was already trying to decide how he could hide it from her when he saw the price tag dangling from one pink, plastic wrist.
He gulped. Even if he spent his whole life’s savings of ten dollars and thirty-five cents, he couldn’t come close to buying the doll for Kelsey.
“Uh, Kels? You’d better put it back,” he urged. “You don’t want to get it messed up or anything.”
“I won’t hurt her,” Kelsey returned, cradling the doll against her little chest. “I just want to hold her for another minute.”
A woman approached them from the back of the store. “You like that one?” she said encouragingly, her voice musical and friendly.
Pip expected Kelsey to answer. When she didn’t, he looked around to see why. He found her staring open-mouthed at the woman, a look of shock on her baby face.
Frowning, he followed her gaze. He couldn’t quite understand his sister’s reaction. The woman was pretty—well, he supposed most people would call her beautiful. She had thick, wavy, shoulder-length dark hair that framed her face and moved when she did. Large, almost-black eyes surrounded by long, curling lashes. A little nose and a nice smile.
A pink smile, he realized. Just like the doll’s.
He suddenly understood. The woman looked very much like the doll Kelsey had taken such a liking to. She was wearing a blue shirt with white lace at the collar, and a full blue skirt with lace pockets. She was even wearing white shoes—though hers were sneakers, not the shiny vinyl of the doll’s shoes.
The woman was studying his sister with a curious smile. Probably wondering why Kelsey was looking at her as though she had two heads or something, Pip thought with a grimace.
He nudged his sister. “She thinks the doll’s real pretty, ma’am,” he said. “Put it back on the shelf, Kelsey.”
Kelsey replaced the doll with visible reluctance, though she hardly took her eyes from the salesclerk.
Pip caught his sister’s hand and tugged her toward another display. “Look over here,” he said, hoping the woman would turn to another customer. “These dolls are dressed like fairy-tale characters. See, there’s Cinderella and Snow White and—”
Kelsey suddenly regained her voice. “Pip!” she squeaked, clutching his arm. “That’s her! That’s my mom.” She was still looking at the dark-haired woman, who’d turned to answer a question from a very pregnant customer.
Pip blinked. “Huh?”
“She’s ‘xactly what I wanted. She even looks like the doll.”
“But, Kels—”
“It’s her, Pip. Really. That’s why Santa sent us to this shop. For her!”
“But—”
“Do you think we should tell her now? That we’ve picked her for our mom, I mean. Do you think she’ll be excited? I am!”
That was obvious. Feeling as though the situation was rapidly getting out of hand, Pip tried to calm his sister, who was tugging eagerly at his hand again. “We can’t just tell her that, Kels. We have to have a plan.”
Since Kelsey had great respect for Pip’s plans—after all, hadn’t it been one of his plans that had brought them to this mall in search of parents?—she grew still and nodded gravely. “What plan?”
Darned if he knew. “Let’s just watch her for a minute,” he suggested in a conspiratorial murmur. “We want to be sure.”
That seemed reasonable to Kelsey. They pretended great interest in the dolls while they crept closer to the sales desk, where the woman had gone to ring up a sale for the pregnant woman.
“Ryan, do we have any more of the red-and-green-plaid wrapping paper?” a tall, red-haired woman behind the counter asked. “I can’t find any.”
The dark-haired saleslady turned to answer.
“Ryan,” Kelsey whispered. “Her name is Ryan. Isn’t that pretty?”
Pip had always considered that a boy’s name himself, but he kept quiet, continuing to watch the woman who so fascinated his sister.
“It’s been a madhouse today, hasn’t it?” the redhead was asking, pretending to wipe her brow with one hand. “Why do I have the feeling we’re going to be here very late tonight restocking and doing paperwork?”
“You don’t have to stay very late,” Ryan assured her. “I know Jack will be impatient for you to get home. I can handle most of it myself.”
The redhead made a face. “You will not. I told you I’d help you get through the Christmas season and I will. Jack will understand. It’s you I’m worried about. You’re going to be so busy during the next month that you’ll be lucky to have any social life at all.”
Ryan shrugged. “What social life? It’s not as if I’m dating anyone right now. Face it, Lynn, I’m a single in a doubles’ season. I might as well be working instead of sitting at home watching old Christmas movies on cable.”
Several customers approached the desk, their arms loaded with purchases. Both Ryan and the woman she’d called Lynn snapped to attention.
So she was a single lady. Could be a problem.
Pip took Kelsey’s hand, figuring they’d lingered in the doll shop as long as they could without attracting undue attention. “C’mon,” he murmured. “Let’s go.”
“But—”
“The plan,” he reminded her when she hesitated. “We have to work out the plan.”
She nodded and followed him out, with only one last, wistful look over her shoulder. Pip wasn’t sure whether it was directed at the doll or the woman named Ryan. Maybe both.
Sratching his head, he looked around the crowded mall, as if in search of inspiration. He spotted the sporting-goods store across the way.
“There’s the other shop Santa told us to visit,” he exclaimed. “Maybe we’ll get an idea while we’re in there.”
“Maybe that’s where we’ll find our dad,” Kelsey agreed.
Pip wasn’t so sure it would be that easy, but at least visiting the sporting-goods store would buy him some time to think.
During the past week, it had occurred to him that he and Kelsey could find the parents they’d been longing for at the mall—didn’t the advertisements all say that you could find anything at the mall? Teeming with shoppers, the mall seemed a good place to look around, pick out some likely looking prospects.
He hadn’t expected Kelsey to pick out a single lady. He’d sort of hoped for a set.
Kelsey was more interested in the store employees than in the merchandise so artfully displayed for Christmas browsers. She frowned.
“I don’t think I like that one,” she said, pointing to a scowling clerk behind the sales desk. The unpleasant-looking man was arguing with a customer about a return, and there was a vein throbbing in his skinny neck, as though he was really angry. “I don’t want him for my dad,” she stated flatly.
“Me, either,” Pip agreed, eyeing the shopkeeper’s soft-looking hands. Sissy hands. Probably never held a football in his life.
His attention was suddenly caught by someone who obviously knew exactly what to do with a football. He was standing ten feet from Pip and Kelsey, tossing a ball from one hand to another as though testing its feel.
He was a tall man who seemed to loom over the other customers, at least from Pip’s viewpoint. He had dark blond hair—rather like Pip’s own—and eyes that might have been blue or gray. Pip couldn’t tell which.
He had a dark tan—he was the outdoors type, apparently—and a strong chin. He was wearing a thick green sweater and very faded jeans, with what looked to Pip like real Western boots. His nose was just a little crooked, but Pip liked it.
As though sensing that someone was watching him, the man suddenly looked up. His gaze met Pip’s. He smiled.
Kelsey’s fingers tightened around Pip’s hand. Pip squeezed absently, staring at the man’s smile. Like his nose, it was a little crooked. But again Pip approved.
This, he thought, looked like a guy a kid wouldn’t mind having for a dad.
The man tossed the ball into the air again, catching it neatly. “Looks like a good one, doesn’t it?”
Pip nodded politely in response to the friendly question. “Yes, sir. That looks like a great ball.”
“Glad to know you agree. I think I’ll buy it.”
Pip watched as the man made his way across the store to the unfriendly salesclerk.
“Well?” Kelsey whispered.
“Yeah,” Pip murmured. “Maybe.”
When the man left the sporting-goods store they were right on his heels, trying their best to blend into the shopping crowd so he wouldn’t notice them. He went into a nearby ice-cream parlor, and Pip dug into his pocket for the ten-dollar bill.
“Want an ice-cream cone?” he asked Kelsey, who nodded eagerly.
A bubbly blond waitress and a more somber-looking older woman stood behind the counter. The man the children had been following headed straight for the blonde.
Pip placed his order with the other woman, watching the man out of the corner of his eye, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible.
The man was leaning on the counter, smiling that crooked smile at the blonde, who seemed to find it as appealing as Pip had.
“What can I do for you?” she asked, sounding to Pip a bit breathless.
“What do you recommend?” the man asked, leaning closer.
“How about a hot-fudge brownie supreme?” she suggested, batting her long eyelashes.
Pip thought she looked kind of goofy hanging all over the guy like that. Personally, he preferred the dark-haired woman in the doll shop to this one. He didn’t think he’d care for a mom who giggled and twirled her hair.
The man flirted with the waitress a few more minutes before making his selection. Pip and Kelsey already had their ice-cream cones and were sitting at a tiny round table, eating and watching.
“Here you go,” the waitress said, sliding a towering concoction of fudge, ice cream and whipping cream across the counter to the man. “What’s your name, anyway?” she asked a bit too casually.
“Max. What’s yours?”
“Brittany. Do you play football?” she asked, nodding toward the ball he held under one arm.
“Some of my buddies get together and play most Sunday afternoons at City Park. Come by some time,” he said. “We can always use another player.”
Brittany giggled. “I don’t much like to play, but maybe I’ll be a cheerleader.”
Pip groaned.
Max only nodded. “See you around, Brittany.”
He carried his ice cream to a small table not far from the one Pip and Kelsey had chosen. He caught Pip’s eyes, paused a moment as though in surprised recognition, then smiled and turned his attention to his ice cream.
Max, Pip thought reflectively. Nice name.
He wondered how Max felt about video games and Batman.
Pip and Kelsey finished their cones before Max had half finished his own treat. Still trying to be inconspicuous, they went out into the mall and pretended to look into shop windows until he finally emerged.
They watched as he roamed aimlessly around the mall, tossing the football from hand to hand and stopping occasionally to peer into a window. Both Pip and Kelsey were excited when Max walked past the doll shop, stopped, looked back over his shoulder and then went inside.
“He’s in there with her! ” Kelsey squealed. “Come on, Pip, let’s go watch.”
Pip bit his lower lip, torn between caution and curiosity. Curiosity won out.
“Okay,” he said. “But stay quiet and don’t call attention to us, you hear?”
“Okay, Pip,” Kelsey said absently, her little sneakers already moving toward Beautiful Babies.

2
MAX MONROE FELT more than a bit out of place in the doll shop. He tucked the new football more snugly beneath his arm and wandered through the crowded aisles, eyeing the rows of smiling plastic faces and wondering how a person went about selecting one. Should he just grab the first doll that caught his eye? Were certain dolls more appropriate than others for a girl of a certain age? How was a guy sup-posed to know these things?
He looked around for help.
A dark-haired, dark-eyed woman was already headed his way, wearing a plastic name tag with a doll’s face painted on it identifying her as a store employee. She smiled, and Max promptly forgot why he’d come in.
Nice smile, he thought. Nice face. Great body. A particularly nice left hand. No rings.
“May I help you find something?” she asked, and her voice was more musical than the Christmas carols that filled the air.
He gave her his best helpless-male smile. “I could certainly use some assistance,” he assured her. Especially from you, he added silently.
“Are you looking for a gift?”
“A Christmas present for my niece.” He checked the woman’s name tag as he spoke. Ryan Clark. The word owner was printed in small letters beneath her name.
“How old is your niece?” Ryan Clark asked him.
Max had to think a minute. “Five? Six, maybe.”
“You aren’t sure?”
With a rueful shrug, he shook his head. “My sister and her family live in Hawaii. I don’t get to see them often, I’m afraid. But I’m pretty sure Jenny is five.”
“I see. Well, maybe a baby doll would be most appropriate. Little girls of all ages love something they can cuddle.”
Max liked the sound of that. He took a step closer. “Yeah. Something to cuddle sounds good to me.”
Ryan Clark shot him a suspicious look and took a step backward.
“For my niece, of course,” he added hastily.
Oops. Wrong approach with this one. The blonde at the ice-cream parlor would have responded with a blush and a giggle. Max actually preferred the stern reproval in Ryan Clark’s dark eyes. He always enjoyed a challenge.
“Of course,” she said, her voice now a bit chilly.
“Ryan, could you give me a hand here for a minute?” a harried-looking redhead called out from the sales counter, which was surrounded by impatient shoppers.
Ryan waved an acknowledgment. “Perhaps you’d like to look around a bit,” she suggested to Max. “The baby dolls are in that section. I’ll check back with you in a few minutes.”
“Sure, take your time,” he said magnanimously. “I’m in no hurry.”
He watched her full skirt sway around her very nice legs as she walked away. “No hurry at all,” he murmured.
Without much interest, he roamed the shop, stopping occasionally to study one doll or another. Frankly, they all looked pretty much alike to him.
He glanced at a few price tags and grew even more puzzled. Why were some of them ten bucks and others several hundred dollars? Who the hell could tell the difference?
A dark-haired doll in a blue-and-white dress caught his eye, and he chuckled. Funny. The doll reminded him a bit of Ryan Clark.
He bent to pick the doll up and found himself face-to-face with a little girl with white blond curls and enormous blue eyes. She was studying him so intently that he felt compelled to say something.
“I’m buying a gift for my niece,” he said. “She’s about your age. Do you think she would like this doll?”
“No,” the child answered positively, shaking her head. She pointed toward a round-faced baby doll dressed in frothy lace. “That one’s much better,” she said earnestly. “You should buy that one.”
Amused, Max replaced the dark-haired doll and picked up the other one. “This one, huh?” he asked, noting that the prices were comparable.
The tot nodded. “That’s a much better one for your niece.”
“Then I’d better buy it, hadn’t I?”
He grinned at the look of relief that crossed the child’s face when she glanced at the dark-haired doll. The little girl returned his smile with a particularly sweet one of her own and then disappeared into the crowds around her. Max assumed she’d returned to her mother’s side. He’d bet the kid would be urging her mom to hurry and buy the dark-haired doll for her before some other inconsiderate shopper snapped it up.
Kids, Max thought with an indulgent shake of his head. They were cute, but weird. He would never figure them out.
All in all, it was a good thing he’d long since decided he would never have any of his own.
“HE’S GORGEOUS,” Lynn Patterson whispered as she and Ryan both finished ringing up their sales. “What does he want?”
Ryan followed her assistant’s gaze to the tall, blond man in the green sweater, who was studying a display of clown dolls. “He said he wants a gift for his niece.”
“Niece? Not daughter?”
“Something tells me this guy doesn’t have any kids,” Ryan said wryly, remembering how blank he’d been when she’d asked his niece’s age.
“Then he’s probably single. What are you waiting for, Ryan? Get over there and offer assistance to the man. Personal assistance.”
“Lynn,” Ryan groaned.
“C’mon, look at him. He’s amazing. That hair. Those eyes. Those shoulders. He looks like…like—”
“Like a heartbreaker,” Ryan said flatly.
“Well, yeah,” Lynn admitted. “But what a way to go.”
Ryan’s attention had already wandered. “Lynn, do you see those two kids over there? The boy and girl?”
“Hmm. Cute, aren’t they?”
“They’ve been hanging around in here for quite a while. I don’t think they’re with anyone. Help me keep an eye on them, okay?”
Lynn frowned. “You think they’d try to steal something? At their age?”
Ryan sighed. “Unfortunately, it’s a possibility. They’re starting younger these days.”
Her gaze wandered back to the children. They really were cute kids. The boy hovered protectively over his little sister, watching her so carefully. And the girl was an adorable moppet, curly haired, big eyed, pink cheeked. Their clothes were faded and worn, and there was something about them that made Ryan feel a bit sad.
She couldn’t define it. But there was something…
“I’ve decided to get this one.”
The blond heartbreaker leaned against the counter, a lace-clad baby doll clutched in one hand and the football she’d noticed earlier in the other. He was giving her that sexy, crooked smile again—the one that made her insides quiver even though she told herself it was ridiculous to react that way.
Lynn, she noted wryly, had suddenly—and deliberately, Ryan was sure—disappeared.
Keeping her expression as polite as possible, she reached for the doll in the man’s hand. “This is a nice selection. I’m sure your niece will love it.”
“I hope so. I had some assistance from an expert,” he said with a grin, nodding over his shoulder.
Following his gesture, she saw the little blond girl and her brother. Ryan smiled, then turned to the cash register. “Will this be all?”
“For now,” he murmured, making the words sound as though they had another meaning.
She didn’t even blink; she simply rang up the purchase and gave him the total. He handed her a gold credit card.
“My name’s Max Monroe,” he said unnecessarily. “I have some more shopping to do and then I thought I’d grab an early dinner in the Mexican restaurant downstairs. Will you join me?”
“Thank you, but no. I have to work,” she explained. She wasn’t exactly surprised by the invitation, but she still felt a bit flustered by it.
He lifted an eyebrow. “You’ll have time to eat, won’t you?”
She shook her head. “It’s one of the busiest shopping days of the season. I won’t be able to take off any time this evening.”
“Then how about a late dinner? After your shop closes, I mean.”
“Thank you again, but no.”
“Some other time, maybe?”
She gave him a vague smile. “If you’ll excuse me,” she murmured, nodding to the two women who’d just come up behind him, their arms loaded with dolls and accessories. “I have to tend to my other customers now.”
Max didn’t look particularly disappointed—not that she’d expected him to. She was sure he could find any number of women in the mall who’d dearly love to “grab an early dinner” with him. She just didn’t happen to be one of them.
He gave her a jaunty salute, tucked the bag holding the doll under his arm with the football and sauntered out of the shop.
Ryan was aware of several long, appreciative sighs from customers in her shop who’d watched him leave. She was also well aware of the frown of disapproval she was getting from her assistant. She suspected that Lynn had overheard the invitation, and Ryan’s refusal. She knew she’d be hearing about it later.
But for now, she had a shop to run.
“OH, MAN,” Pip groaned outside the doll shop. “He crashed and burned.”
“What does that mean?” Kelsey asked innocently.
“Never mind.” He sighed. Things had looked so promising for a minute there.
“There he goes,” Kelsey whispered, pointing toward the glass elevator in the center of the mall. “Our dad’s getting away.”
Pip looked at his Batman digital watch and frowned. “We have to be going, too.”
“But, Pip—”
“It’s getting late, Kels. You don’t want to get caught, do you?”
She shook her head.
“Okay, let’s go then. We’ll come back tomorrow.”
That cheered her some. “Can we see our mom again tomorrow? And my doll?”
“Sure.”
“And Santa?”
“Again?”
“Yes. There’s something else I want to tell him.”
Pip sighed heavily. Caring for a little girl was such a responsibility, he thought somberly. “We’ll see. Okay?”
“Okay, Pip.” She slipped her hand into his.
Together they headed for the same elevator the man named Max had used only minutes before.
ON SATURDAY the mall was as crowded as it had been the previous day. It took Max nearly twenty minutes to find a parking space when he arrived early that afternoon. Not that he particularly minded cruising the parking lot watching the shoppers; it wasn’t as if he had anything better to do.
He should probably be working, but he wasn’t in the mood today. To the dismay of his agent and editors, who considered him the worst case of wasted potential they’d ever known, he was all too rarely in the mood to work.
Max was bored—certainly not an unfamiliar condition for him. Problem was, there’d been few challenges lately in his self-indulgent, hedonistic, freedom-above-all-else life-style. And he thrived on challenges. Which was the reason he’d headed back to the mall today.
A brisk wind was blowing, reminding him that winter was definitely at hand. He tucked his leather driving gloves into a pocket of his bomber jacket and pulled the collar higher around his neck. His thick, dark gold hair blew slightly in the wind. He stepped beneath the mall awning and ran a hand through the heavy strands, letting them fall haphazardly into place.
A heavyset woman with a bad complexion and a sweet smile stood beside a collection box patiently ringing a handbell, her nose red from the wind. Her chubby hands were pink with cold and callused from years of abuse. Max dug in his jeans pocket, pulled out a ten-dollar bill and slipped it into the collection box.
“Bless you, sir. And Merry Christmas to ya,” the woman said brightly.
“Cool day, isn’t it?” he asked her.
Still smiling, she nodded. “It certainly is. Your donation will help buy blankets and warm food for those that don’t have ’em.”
On impulse, Max pulled out his leather gloves and pressed them into the woman’s free hand. “Wear these,” he urged. “You don’t want your hand to freeze to that bell handle,” he added lightly.
She blinked in surprise. “But—”
“Merry Christmas,” he said as he walked away, feeling uncomfortable with his gesture.
“Thank you, sir. God bless you,” she called after him, already tugging the soft gloves over her rough hands.
Max blended into the crowd of people pushing their way through the mall entrance. He’d have to pick up a new pair of gloves, he thought. He hadn’t really liked the way the others fit, anyway.
The same Christmas carols he’d heard yesterday poured from overhead speakers, blending with the jabber of constantly moving shoppers. The enticing aroma of fresh-baked chocolate-chip cookies drifted from a Mrs. Field’s shop, blending with the scents of cinnamon and evergreen and peppermint from Christmas displays.
A frowning, forty-something woman bumped Max’s arm and dropped her packages. He helped her retrieve them, flirted with her for a moment, then moved away, leaving her smiling.
“Hey, Max. How’s it goin’?”
The call made Max look around. He nodded when he spotted an acquaintance walking his way. “Hi, Stan. Doing some shopping?”
A stocky African-American of about Max’s age, Stan carried a chubby baby in a backpack and held the hand of a little boy who might have been three or four.
“The wife dragged me down here,” Stan admitted with a grimace. “She’s in J.C. Penney’s now. I told her I’d take the kids to ride the Christmas train while she shopped. Standing in a line full of whining kids beats the hell out of watching her choose a flannel nightgown for her sister.”
Max laughed. “I feel for you, pal.”
“You don’t know what you’re missing staying single, buddy.”
“Whatever it is, I’m getting along just fine without it,” Max quipped.
“You just wait. Someday I’m going to find you in the mall with a wife and a half-dozen kids, and then I’m going to be the one laughing my butt off.”
“No way, Stan. Trust me.”
“Mmm.” Stan grinned, apparently unconvinced. “You playing tomorrow?” he asked as his son tugged impatiently at his hand.
“Yeah, probably. You?”
“I’ll be there.”
“Daddy. Train,” the little boy insisted.
Stan sighed. “Gotta go. See you tomorrow.”
“Yeah. See ya’, Stan.” Max watched the trio move away, then shook his head sympathetically. Poor guy.
He headed again for the escalators. His winding path took him past the gingerbread house in the center of the mall, where a long line of ankle-biters waited to sit on Santa’s plump lap. Now there was a nightmare of a temporary job, Max thought with a shudder. He wondered how many times a day Santa’s lap got soaked by leaky toddlers.
As if he’d heard Max’s thoughts, the white-bearded, red-suited man glanced his way. Their gazes held for a moment. The older man smiled and nodded, almost as if they’d met before.
Max returned the nod and told himself the guy was just doing his job, spreading Christmas cheer among the shoppers to make them more inclined to spend their money. He moved on, though he had the odd sensation that he was being watched as he shuffled onto the escalator between an elderly woman and three giggling teenage girls.
RYAN WAS TAKING a lunch break in the mall food court on the ground floor. She sat alone at one end of a long table, a fast-food salad in front of her.
She would have worked straight through the day, but business had slowed a bit during the past hour and Lynn had insisted she take a break. Lynn was sometimes fussier than an old mother hen, but now that Ryan was sitting down, she was glad she’d let her assistant talk her into the respite.
She took a long, appreciative sip of her iced tea, then opened a packet of low-fat ranch dressing and squeezed some onto her salad. She had just stabbed her plastic fork into a crisp chunk of lettuce when someone slid into the seat directly across the table from her.
She glanced up and was glad she hadn’t yet started to eat. She was quite sure she would have choked.
“Mind if I join you?” Max Monroe asked, smiling across the table at her as he unwrapped a bacon double cheeseburger.
It annoyed her that she remembered his name. It irritated her that he had found her now, when there was little she could do to avoid him. And most of all, it made her absolutely furious that the sight of his unruly, gold-streaked hair and ridiculously crooked grin made her go all breathless and quivery like some awestruck adolescent.
She took a deep breath, had a stern mental talk with her hormones and gave him a cool shrug. “It’s an open food court,” she said. “You can sit wherever you like.”
Unfazed by her less-than-gracious reply, Max arranged his meal in front of him—the burger, a large order of fries, a jug-size soft drink and a deep-fried apple pie. Glancing from the high-calorie, high-everything-else food to his slim, firm waist, Ryan wondered jealously if he routinely ate that way, and if so, where did it all go.
She took another bite of her low-calorie, low-fat, low-taste salad, finding less pleasure in it than she would have a few minutes earlier.
“Didn’t we meet yesterday in the doll shop upstairs?” he asked, though she suspected he remembered their meeting as well as she did.
She gave him a polite, deliberately distant smile. “Yes, I believe we did.”
“In case you’ve forgotten, I’m Max Monroe. And you’re Ryan, right?”
“Ryan Clark.” She made no pretense at being flattered that he’d remembered.
“How’s business today?” he asked, after swallowing a hefty bite of his sandwich.
She concentrated on her salad—or pretended to. “Busy.”
“That’s good, isn’t it?”
“Yes, of course.” She wondered why he was wasting time talking to her when she was making it obvious that she wasn’t interested.
At least, she was trying not to be interested.
Okay, the guy was gorgeous. His knock-your-socks-off smile made her toes curl.
If she’d run into him even a year earlier, she’d probably have bantered right back at him, maybe thrown a few passes of her own. She’d have been open to the possibility of a frivolous flirtation, maybe a light-hearted, unquestionably temporary affair—though such encounters had been extremely rare for her. A year ago, she’d been busy preparing to open her business. She hadn’t been ready for a serious relationship, though she might have made time for a bit of fun with a man like Max, had one come along.
But that had been then, and things had changed. Her life was moving along exactly the way she’d planned, and a brief fling didn’t fit in with her new goals. Now it was time to get serious about looking for Mr. Right.
She would almost have bet her precious shop that it would be a complete waste of energy to expect anything permanent with a man like Max Monroe. If she was going to start a family before she reached thirty, there wasn’t time to get distracted by a charming heartbreaker.
She looked up and her gaze met Max’s. His smile crinkled the corners of his blue-gray eyes with tiny lines that hinted at hours spent in the sun. It made her want to smile back at him. It also made her think of fun and laughter and lighthearted conversation and teeth-rattling lovemaking.
If only she’d met him a year or so ago, she thought wistfully. Back when she’d still had time to have her teeth rattled a bit.
Her iced tea splashed precariously against the sides of the paper cup when the table was suddenly jarred from close by. Both Ryan and Max grabbed their drinks to prevent them from spilling. Ryan looked down, not quite sure if she was relieved or disappointed that the spell that had fallen when her eyes locked with Max’s had been abruptly broken.
Two children, a boy and a smaller girl, were just sliding into seats close to Ryan and Max. The boy flushed and looked sheepish when he saw that Ryan was looking at him. “Sorry,” he said. “I stumbled against the table.”
“That’s okay,” she assured him. “No harm done.”
She started to turn away, then hesitated when she noticed the little girl across the table from the boy. Big blue eyes. A mop of white blond curls. A Cupid’s bow of a mouth. And the boy—sandy haired, with blue eyes that looked surprisingly shrewd for his age and a no-nonsense little chin that would one day be formidable.
She’d seen them before, she realized. Yesterday, in her shop.
The little girl was smiling at her. Ryan instinctively returned the smile, which made the child giggle.
“Kelsey,” the boy murmured, handing his little sister a decorated box that held a McDonald’s Happy Meal. “Settle down and eat your lunch.”
Ryan glanced at Max, who was watching her with a grin. She knew he was as amused—and bemused—as she by the boy’s overly mature manner. She smiled wryly back at him.
“Look at what I got in my Happy Meal, Pip,” the child he’d called Kelsey said, holding up a molded-plastic figure. “Minnie Mouse!”
“Yeah, that’s cool,” her brother said, taking a bite of his own small cheeseburger. “Hang on to it or you’ll lose it.”
Kelsey clutched the toy more firmly in her chubby hand. “I won’t lose it.”
“Eat your lunch, now.”
“Okay, Pip.” The little girl obediently took an enormous mouthful of her own burger.
Biting the inside of her lip to avoid laughing, Ryan wondered if the children were eating alone while their mother shopped. They seemed awfully young to be wandering through a crowded mall on their own.
She remembered that they had seemed unaccompanied the day before, in her shop, and she shook her head slightly in disapproval of their parents’ negligence. She would have liked to chat with the children, but didn’t want to encourage them to talk to strangers.
Max apparently didn’t consider that precaution. “You guys doing some Christmas shopping?” he asked encouragingly.
“You might say that,” the boy answered after a momentary consideration.
His sister giggled at a private joke.
“Been to see Santa yet?”
Kelsey nodded avidly. “Twice. I forgot to tell him something the first time, so I went back. He remembered me. He said he would—”
“Kelsey!” Pip said patiently. “It was a yes-or-no question.”
“Oh. Then, yes. We seen him.”
“Saw him,” Pip murmured.
Kelsey gave a deep sigh. “Saw him,” she repeated.
“Didn’t I see you in my shop yesterday?” Ryan asked, forgetting her own mental warnings about talking to the kids.
“The doll shop,” Kelsey said, nodding again. “I like your store very much.”
“It’s a cool shop,” her brother agreed politely. “If you like dolls, I guess,” he couldn’t resist adding.
Ryan laughed. “I happen to like dolls.”
“Me, too,” Kelsey seconded fervently.
“Feel free to come back in and look around whenever you like,” Ryan said, touched by the child’s obvious delight in the shop. She had never gotten over her own childhood fascination with dolls of any shape and size, so she could easily identify with her.
Kelsey looked pleased by the invitation. “Thank you. Maybe Pip will let me come look again after lunch.”
The boy nodded, still concentrating on his hamburger.
“I remember you,” Max said suddenly, looking at the girl. “You helped me pick out a doll for my niece yesterday.”
The child smiled shyly. “My name’s Kelsey,” she volunteered. “That’s my brother. His name is Peter, but I call him Pip, ‘cause I like Pip better.”
“Hello, Kelsey. Hi, Pip. I’m Max.”
The children acknowledged his greeting, then turned expectantly to Ryan.
“I’m Ryan,” she said obligingly.
“I’m six years old.” Kelsey made the announcement with pride. “Pip’s nine.”
“I’m thirty-four,” Max said gravely. “How old are you, Ryan?”
She gave him a pointed look. “I’m twenty-eight.”
“Are you married, Ryan?” Kelsey asked innocently.
“No,” she said, forcing a smile. “I’m not married.”
“Are you married, Max?” Pip asked casually.
“No,” Max answered, still looking amused. “How about you, Pip? Tied the knot yet?”
Kelsey dissolved into giggles. “He’s not married, silly,” she said reprovingly. “He’s only a kid—even if he is a lot older than me.”
“Oh, that’s right. I guess I forgot for a minute,” Max said, winking at Ryan.
She reached desperately for her iced tea, wondering in exasperation how a crooked grin and a quick wink could raise her body temperature by about fifty degrees.
“We saw you in the sporting-goods store, too,” Pip told Max. “You bought a football. Have you played with it yet?”
Max chuckled. “Not yet. I’ll probably try it out on Sunday. Some of my friends and I get together on Sunday afternoons to play touch football in City Park.”
“City Park’s not far from where we live,” Kelsey commented. “Me and Pip go there sometimes and play on the swings. I like to swing.”
A mall employee in a bright red-and-green uniform approached the table with a colorful bouquet of helium-filled balloons bobbing behind her.
“Hi,” she said, her ponytail bouncing perkily. She looked at Ryan. “Would your kids like a balloon? They’re free.”
“Oh, uh…” Flustered, Ryan looked at the children.
“I’d like one, thank you,” Kelsey said, pointing to a red balloon. “May I have that one?”
“Sure.” The young woman plucked the red balloon from the batch and pressed the string into Kelsey’s hand. “Don’t let go now or it’ll fly away. Maybe your dad’ll tie it to your wrist.”
Before anyone could answer, she turned to Pip. “How about you? Want a balloon?”
Pip shook his head. “No, thank you.”
“Okay. See ya, then. Have a nice day.”
The young woman had already spotted another family group. As she moved toward them, she looked over her shoulder at Ryan. “Nice kids,” she said.
Fortunately, Ryan was spared having to answer.
Kelsey was grinning at Max. “She thought you were my daddy.”
“Yeah. I guess she did.” Max looked almost as disconcerted as Ryan had felt when the woman had mistaken her for the children’s mother.
“You don’t have any children, do you, Max?”
“No, Kelsey. I don’t have any children.”
The child gave him a melting smile. “Would you like some?”
She jerked suddenly, as though she’d been kicked beneath the table. “Ouch, Pip! That—”
“Finish your french fries,” her brother said quickly. “You don’t want them to get cold.”
Kelsey sighed and turned back to her meal. “How can I eat and hold my balloon at the same time?”
“Here,” Max said. “I’ll tie it to your wrist for you.”
Kelsey obligingly held out her hand. “Thank you, Max,” she said with a coquettish bat of her eyes.
To Ryan’s amusement, Max’s cheeks darkened. “Yeah. Sure,” he said, hastily tying the string into a loose slipknot.
Ryan gathered her empty plastic salad bowl and other trash, then pushed her chair away from the table. “I have to get back to work. It’s been nice chatting with you, Kelsey and Pip.”
“And Max,” Kelsey reminded her.
“Yes, of course. And Max, too.”
Max looked as though he wanted to say something else. Ryan hurried away before he had the chance.
Though she couldn’t have explained her overreaction, she was still a bit shaken at being taken for a family with Max and the children. The experience had left an oddly hollow feeling deep inside her.
Must have been the salad, she decided. One could never trust fast-food places to have really fresh vegetables.

3
THE ESCALATORS WERE mobbed, and the glass elevators in the center of the mall were packed like sardine cans, with more shoppers waiting to get on. Ryan ducked into one of the discreetly located service elevators tucked into an out-of-the-way nook. She noticed as the doors closed silently behind her that she wasn’t the only occupant.
Santa Claus was also on board.
“Taking a break?” she asked, pushing the button for the third floor.
“A brief one,” Santa replied, his voice deep and pleasant, just the way Ryan thought it should be. “Did you have a nice lunch?”
Ryan wondered if he’d noticed her downstairs or was simply making a guess. “Yes, thank you. It’s crazy this week, isn’t it? I’ve noticed you’ve had some incredibly long lines of children waiting to see you.”
“I don’t mind. I love children.”
“So do I,” Ryan answered, unable to keep a touch of wistfulness out of her voice.
The elevator jerked oddly. Ryan steadied herself against the shiny metal wall. “What was that?”
“I’m not sure….”
The elevator stopped. Unfortunately, they had already passed the second floor and had not yet reached the third.
“Oh, no,” Ryan groaned, pushing the third-floor button. Nothing happened. The car remained solidly wedged between floors.
On one of her most hectic business days, she was stuck in a service elevator. With Santa Claus. She groaned again.
“Now what do we do?” she asked aloud, as much to herself as to her companion.
“Push the red alarm button,” the bearded man suggested kindly. “That will alert someone that there’s a problem.”
Ryan obliged, though she couldn’t imagine anyone actually hearing the muted buzz over the frenzied commotion of the mall. They could be trapped in here for hours. She pulled at the high neckline of her Christmas-motif sweater, wondering if the elevator contained enough air.
“You don’t suffer from claustrophobia, I hope,” Santa said, watching her closely.
She managed a weak smile and shook her head. “I never have before.”
“That’s good. I’m afraid I have little experience dealing with hysteria.”
Ryan lifted her chin. “I never,” she said precisely, “get hysterical.”
His smile was almost hidden by his lush, white, amazingly realistic-looking beard. “What a relief.”
Ryan mechanically pushed the alarm button again. “I don’t suppose you have Rudolph trained to rescue you in cases like this,” she said inanely, trying to distract herself from noticing how small the car actually was, or how the walls seemed to be inching a bit closer to her.
“I’m afraid not. But I’m sure maintenance workers are already on the way. In the meantime, why don’t we introduce ourselves? I’m Santa Claus.”
Ryan laughed wryly. “Yes, I know. And I’m Ryan Clark.”
“You work in the lovely doll shop on the third floor.”
“I own it,” she acknowledged. “You’ve been in?”
“Oh, I know all the best toy stores. Yours is delightful. I’ve recommended it to several shoppers.”
“Why, thank you.”
“You’re welcome. And now, since we seem to have a few spare moments on our hands, why don’t you tell Santa what you would like for Christmas?”
Her smile deepened. His calm, cheerful attitude relaxed her, making her realize there wasn’t any real reason for panic.
“I want to have a successful, profitable season for my shop,” she replied in answer to his frivolous question.
He frowned and shook his head, the fluffy white ball at the tip of his red cap bouncing with the movement. “I wasn’t talking about business,” he answered, reproving her gently. “I was asking about your true heart’s desire. That’s what the Christmas season is all about, after all.”
“My heart’s desire?” Ryan repeated, taken aback by his quaint phrasing. “I, er—”
“Surely there’s something you want very badly. A cruise, perhaps? A trip to Europe?”
“I’ve seen Europe. I lived there for a year.”
“Ah. So, what would you like?”
Ryan shrugged. She could hardly tell him that she had everything she wanted—with one quite notable exception.
She told herself that it was only the season making her so painfully aware of her single state. So many of her friends were looking for the perfect gift for their mate, making holiday plans for their children, anticipating the Christmas-morning rituals. Ryan was just feeling a bit left out, that was all.
Not something she could admit to a shopping-mall Santa Claus. No one, except maybe Lynn, knew how badly Ryan longed to find the right mate and start a family.
She wanted love. And commitment. A lifetime pledge. Babies. Deep, soul-warming contentment.
For some reason she thought of Max Monroe, with his take-me-if-you-dare smile and don’t-expect-too-much-from-me eyes. For a man like Max, marriage was a four-letter word—like jail. Or hell.
Santa was watching her with an enigmatic smile. “Love isn’t such a difficult thing to ask for, Ryan,” he said, making her stare at him in surprise. “It’s taking a risk on it that’s hard for most people,” he added gently. “All you have to do is open yourself up to possibilities and be ready to act when the opportunity presents itself.”
“I’ll—” she swallowed “—I’ll keep that in mind.”
She wondered if he was putting her on, or if he’d been spending too much time in his Santa suit. Maybe his hat was too tight. Or maybe he’d watched Miracle on 34th Street a few too many times.
The older man chuckled. “What a cynic you are,” he chided, but his tone was good-natured. She assumed he was responding to her expression, since she was reasonably confident that even the “real” Santa’s talents didn’t extend to mind reading.
Her companion reached into a deep pocket of his red velvet jacket and pulled out a peppermint cane. He extended it to her with an old-fashioned flourish. “For you,” he said.
She took the candy with a weak smile. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
The elevator suddenly hummed, jerked again and then started upward.
Ryan smiled in relief. “We’re moving!”
The car stopped on the third floor. The doors slid silently, efficiently open. Ryan stepped out and drew a deep breath of fresh mall air.
She turned to look questioningly at Santa, who hadn’t moved. “Aren’t you getting out?”
He smiled. “No. There are children waiting for me downstairs. Have a nice day, Miss Clark. And don’t forget about those possibilities.”
The elevator closed before she could answer.
Ryan stared in bemusement at the metal doors, the candy cane gripped in one hand. And then she shook her head. “Weird,” she murmured, turning away.
She put the incident out of her mind as she hurried back to her shop. She had many hours of hard work ahead of her. No more time to waste on silly fantasies.
PIP AND KELSEY CAME IN to visit the doll shop after their lunch, as Ryan had invited them to do. From behind the counter, Ryan smiled a greeting, though she was busy with a customer and didn’t have time to chat. She noticed that Kelsey stopped in front of the dark-haired doll at the front of the shop, the one that had so fascinated the little girl the day before.
The children didn’t stay long. By the time Ryan had a break and could have spoken to them, they were gone.
She busied herself behind the counter, picking up a jumble of shopping bags she’d dropped during a busy time earlier.
Her assistant suddenly tugged on her shoulder, urging her to stand upright. “He’s back,” Lynn said in an urgent whisper. “And oh, Lordy, he’s even more gorgeous today than he was yesterday.”
Following Lynn’s excited gaze, Ryan swallowed hard when she saw that Max Monroe had just ambled through the open door. She moistened her lips and then frowned at her grinning assistant. “Would you stop it? How would Jack feel about you ogling the customers, hmm?”
Lynn giggled. “He’d approve if he knew I was only doing it for your benefit.”
“Yeah, right.”
Max didn’t pause, but continued to the counter, where Lynn and Ryan waited on customers. “Hi again,” he said.
“Looking for a present for another niece, Mr. Monroe?” Ryan asked as Lynn moved discreetly away.
“No.”
Glancing around to make sure no one was listening, he leaned a bit closer to her. “Actually, I’m here to ask you for a date. Maybe we could see a movie or something?”
“Max—”
He touched her hand as it lay on the counter between them, giving her a look that made her voice fade. “I don’t mean to annoy you with my persistence, but I thought I’d try this one more time. I like the way you smile, Ryan Clark. I’d like to get to know you. I guess that sounds like a line to you—”
“Yes,” she admitted a bit shakily. “It does.”
“Sorry. But it’s true. Will you go out with me?”
“I—it’s such a busy time for me,” she said, wondering why she couldn’t just tell him no.
For some reason, she kept hearing the voice of the mall Santa Claus. “All you have to do is open yourself up to possibilities and be ready to act when the opportunity presents itself,” he’d said.
Maybe she’d leapt to conclusions about Max Monroe. Maybe she’d written him off as a “possibility” without giving him a fair chance. Maybe he wasn’t really a heartbreaker, after all.
And maybe pigs would fly, she thought, eyeing the devilish twinkle in his blue-gray eyes.
“Just a movie,” he said again, his fingers tightening on hers. “There’s a nine-twenty feature in the theater downstairs. I can meet you here at nine when you close your shop and we can see the film without even leaving the mall, if that makes you more comfortable. C’mon, Ryan. It’ll be fun.”
She felt something give inside her. “All right,” she heard herself saying cautiously. “I guess it would be fun to see a movie. I haven’t had a night off in a while.”
His smile was blinding. “Great. Afterward, maybe we could have a cappuccino or something?”
“Let’s just wait and see about afterward, okay?”
He nodded, accepting her equivocation without protest. “Then I’ll meet you at nine?”
“Fine,” she said, hoping she wasn’t making a big mistake. But how bad could it be? If he’d been trying to put her at ease by choosing a safe, very public setting for their first date, he’d succeeded.
She suspected that he was entirely too good at this sort of thing. She’d have to be on her guard against him. But, still, she found herself looking forward to the evening.
It really had been too long since she’d had a night out, she reminded herself. That was all there was to it.
Max didn’t linger, but left the shop looking quite satisfied with himself.
A plump matron with improbably red hair set a Barbie doll and several accessories on the counter in front of Ryan. “If a man like that had flirted with me that way while I was young and single, I know what I would have done,” she murmured to her shopping companion with a wistful sigh, making no effort to keep Ryan from overhearing. “I’d have latched on to him before he’d known what had him.”
Ryan flushed, busying herself immediately with ringing up the woman’s purchases.
“Not many like him come along,” the woman’s friend agreed heartily. “Did you see that smile? If I were ten years younger, I’d chase him down right now.”
The red-haired shopper snorted. “Fifteen years, maybe,” she muttered.
Business quickly became brisk again, to Ryan’s relief. She didn’t want time to dwell on the evening ahead.
SHE THOUGHT OF little Kelsey at a quarter to nine that evening. Ryan was straightening the shelves, returning merchandise to its proper position, setting out a few new items in inviting poses, preparing for the next day’s business, when she spotted the dark-haired doll. Smiling, she picked it up and fluffed its full blue skirt.
It was a pretty little thing, a numbered, limited edition from one of Ryan’s favorite sources. It was the only one like it she had received, and she had actually expected it to sell before this.
She wished Kelsey’s mother would come into the shop so Ryan could mention to her how much the little girl seemed to want the doll. Maybe Kelsey had already told her.
And then Ryan remembered the children’s shabby clothing. She frowned. It was entirely possible their mother couldn’t afford the doll.
Ryan set it back in its place, telling herself that if Kelsey’s mother did come in, she would give her a very good deal. In this case, for Kelsey’s sake, she was willing to forgo her profit.
There was something about that child that had gotten to Ryan. Pip, too.
When she looked up, she saw that Max had arrived for their impromptu date, and everything else left her mind.
IT WAS SOMETIME DURING the latter half of the movie that Ryan realized she’d been right to be suspicious of Max’s seemingly innocuous manner in asking her out.
Oh, he’d started out casually enough. Escorted her into the theater as easily as if they’d known each other for years. Bought soft drinks and a huge tub of popcorn for them to share. Chatted about trivialities during the few minutes they waited before the feature started. Laughed along with her at the antics of the mixed-up couple falling in love on the screen.
He’d waited until she was relaxed and at ease with him before making his move—which he did with a subtlety and skill that would have made the teenage boys surrounding them green with envy. Ryan couldn’t even have said when he scooted closer to her in his seat or when his arm slipped behind her.
At first she thought it coincidence that his hand brushed hers so often as she reached for popcorn. A very pleasant coincidence. And then she noticed how long his fingers lingered, making her all too vividly aware of the feel of him.
His thigh pressed lightly against hers, and she felt his warmth through the thin layers of clothing that separated them. His strength. Their shoulders touched; she felt him breathing. She could see his shadowed profile from the corner of her eye. His lashes were long, his chin firm, his mouth luscious.
Gorgeous. And dangerous.
The beautiful couple on screen eased into a slow, heated embrace. The background music was deep, stirring, swelling to a crescendo that seemed to throb through her. Max’s hand slid caressingly over her shoulder, down her arm, his fingers lingering just inches from her right breast.
Ryan turned her head to look at him and caught just a glimpse of his smug smile.
She straightened abruptly in her seat, dislodging his hand.
Max immediately moved his arm, his expression innocently questioning. She focused her attention on the screen for the remainder of the movie, shaking her head when he offered her more popcorn.
By the time the film ended and the theater lights came back on, she had herself firmly under control.
Max insisted on walking her to her car, which she’d left in the parking garage behind the mall.” You’re sure you wouldn’t like to have coffee and dessert somewhere?” he asked for the third time since the movie had ended.
“No, thank you,” she said, as she had the other times. “It’s late and I have to work tomorrow.”
Standing very close to her, he backed her against her car and gave her a smile so seductive that Ryan figured he must have started practicing it in the mirror the day he hit puberty. She didn’t doubt that he’d been quite successful with it. It was all she could do to resist it herself.
“I really had a great time with you tonight,” he said, his voice deep and sexy. “Thank you for agreeing to see me.”
With an effort, she made her own smile bright and impersonal. “I had a nice time, too, Max,” she said lightly. “The movie was amusing, and I needed a break.”
He lifted a hand to stroke her cheek. She trembled at his touch, though she tried to hide her reaction.
She’d have bet her Christmas profits that he’d practiced this look, too. A look that tempted a woman to believe he found her beautiful. Desirable. Special.
“I want to see you again,” he murmured, his mouth hovering mere inches above hers. So close she could feel his warm breath caressing her cheek, making her tingle in response.
Oh, yeah, he was good. Even knowing exactly what he was, she might have been as susceptible as the next woman, if he’d come along a year ago. Six months, even.
Okay, so maybe she’d been accused of being rigid and inflexible on occasion. Maybe she was. But her thirtieth birthday was inching closer and she didn’t for a minute believe that Max was looking for a permanent relationship. A holiday fling was all he had in mind, and she simply didn’t have time for such foolishness. Nor would she put her heart at risk with a man who’d undoubtedly broken more than his share of them.
“I’d better go,” she said, sliding skillfully out of his loose embrace just as his mouth lowered toward hers. “Thanks again, Max. It’s been fun.”
He blinked. His expression would probably make her laugh when she thought about it later. Obviously, he wasn’t accustomed to having women cut him short when he went into his turn-her-knees-to-jelly routine. “Uh—”
She opened her car door. “Good night, Max. Maybe I’ll see you around sometime.”
“But—when?” he demanded, trying to detain her.
She closed the door and smiled through the driver’s-side window. “Good night,” she called through the glass, deliberately ignoring his question.
She started the engine. He had to move back quickly or she would have flattened his toes as she drove away from him.
She glanced into her rearview mirror. He was still standing where she’d left him, looking after her with obvious bewilderment. She smiled sadly.
He wasn’t such a bad sort. A little vain, definitely cocky, but he was charming and probably a lot of fun to spend time with. At least until he grew bored and moved on.
As intriguing as he was, Max Monroe was no more husband-and-father material than…than the mall Santa was the real Santa Claus, Ryan told herself ruefully.
It was a shame, actually. Max Monroe was the first man who’d made her tremble in longer than she could remember.
LYNN STONE and part-time employee Cathy Patterson spent the first hour at work Sunday afternoon trying to get Ryan to tell them about her date with Max. She told them she’d had a nice time, advised them to see the film for themselves and informed them firmly that she had no plans to see Max in the future.
“Did he ask?” Lynn demanded, daring her to lie.
Ryan sighed. “He asked. I said no. There’s no point in it, Lynn. He’s just not my type.”
“Lynn said he was gorgeous,” Cathy said. “And that he had a killer smile.”
“He is and he does,” Ryan admitted. “But that’s not enough reason for me to get involved with him.”
“And why not?” Lynn challenged. “Do you really want to spend the entire holiday season alone?”
“I’m not alone. I have my father and my brother. And I used to have good friends,” Ryan added pointedly.
As she had expected, Lynn ignored the subtle rebuke. “But as you said yourself, it’s a couples’ season. And you aren’t even dating anyone. Wouldn’t you at least like to have a date for New Year’s Eve?”
“You,” Ryan told her friend, “are making me crazy. Would you stop with this Max thing? Couldn’t you tell by looking at him that he’s nothing but trouble? You know I would love to meet someone and fall deeply in love and get married and live happily ever after. But not with a guy like that. He’s not the settling-down type.”
“Okay,” Lynn conceded. “So Max Monroe probably isn’t destined to be your soul mate. But do you have to be alone all the time while you wait for Mr. Right to appear? Can’t you just have fun with a guy occasionally? And even you have to admit that Max would probably be a lot of fun, especially if you don’t expect too much from him to start with.”
“From what Lynn’s told me about him, I’d bet he’d be a lot of fun,” Cathy seconded. “Loosen up, Ryan. Enjoy yourself for a change. Then, when the right guy does appear, you’ll be ready to settle down and devote the rest of your life to raising kids and running that chain of doll shops you have in mind.”
Ryan shook her head. She didn’t see any reason to mention that she was ready for that now—more than ready.
She’d accomplished so many of the goals she’d set on her twentieth birthday. She’d seen Europe and Australia. She’d earned her degree, with honors. She’d started her own business and thus far was doing very well with it.
She had a great apartment, a lot of good friends, a loving and supportive family. All that was lacking was a life partner.
And no man she’d met so far had even come close to the ideal mate she had in mind. Including Max Monroe.
“Excuse me,” she said to her co-workers. “I believe I see a customer in need of assistance. Several of them, as a matter of fact.”
Finally taking the hint, Lynn and Cathy busied themselves in the shop. Ryan did the same.
IT WAS JUST BEFORE THREE when she spotted the little girl standing in front of the dark-haired doll. Ryan was surprised. She hadn’t expected to see Kelsey at the mall for a third day in a row. She appeared to be alone this time; Pip was nowhere in sight.
Ryan moved toward the child. “Hello, Kelsey. This is a nice surprise.”
Kelsey’s rosy face lit up with her smile. “Hi, Ryan. I just came to visit the doll again.”
“You’re always welcome to stop in,” Ryan answered. “Um—is your mother with you?”
Kelsey’s smile faded. “No, ma’am. My mother’s dead.”

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