The Complete Christmas Collection

CHAPTER TWO

“EVERYTHING GOOD HAPPENS in the kitchen,” his grandmother used to say. She was a large woman, almost as wide as she was tall. Nico had adored her. And now, with the beautiful Grace Clarke immobilized in his very own kitchen, Adalina di Prioli’s words had never been more true.

“Someday I will have to tell you about my grandmother.” Nico replaced the ice pack with a colder one. The original was sufficient to help with the swelling, but he liked to keep the interns busy and, besides, he wanted to pamper this lovely woman in red.

He’d noticed that no one else seemed to. After a few discreet inquiries, he’d discovered she had no family in town. She had been in a relationship with some guy who moved away, but apparently that had been over for a long time. She seemed to spend most of her time at the lodge; she didn’t party in town or spend her days off on the ski slopes. She drank red wine if she drank anything other than Diet Coke and she emceed the animal shelter’s annual dog fashion show.

“Was she a cook, too?” Grace asked.

“She certainly was.”

“And she taught you everything she knew?”

“Yes.” Nico had perfected Mama Lina’s meatball recipe by the time he was eight, her lasagna at nine, and he began inventing different kinds of ravioli fillings by the time he was ten. “Her lasagna and her meatballs are on the menu. Have you tried them?”

“The lasagna. It was delicious.” He watched her try to wiggle her toes and wince. “We were here for Patsy’s birthday in October. You made tiramisu, and we had a cake.”

“There was a lot of wine poured that night.” He remembered Grace’s short black dress. She’d worn pumpkin earrings that dangled to her shoulders and threatened to tangle in her blond curls. He’d asked her to go out with him—dinner and a movie—and she’d very politely refused. “Was that the first time I asked you out?”

“I don’t remember.”

“No.” He pretended to think about it. “I believe I invited you for a drink the day I was hired. I should apologize for that.”

“You don’t need to apologize.”

“But I embarrassed you, I think. And gave you the wrong impression. I was ecstatic that day,” he admitted. “It took two months to talk the owners into hiring me.” At her incredulous expression, he added, “They didn’t want to risk hiring someone who wasn’t going to make a real commitment.”

“I can certainly understand that,” she huffed. “But I would have expected them to jump at the chance to have you.”

“Not exactly,” Nico drawled.

“We heard you cost a fortune.” She smiled. “We thought you’d bring your movie-star girlfriends and illegitimate children with you.”

Well, that was irritating. “Do you always believe everything you read at the grocery store? There was no pregnancy. I never even had a date with Scarlet, and the woman who was on the cover of that stupid magazine? She’s a friend of mine who happens to be gay.”

“Lake Placid must seem very tame compared to LA.”

“If you knew my family, and there are a lot of them, you wouldn’t say that.” He thought of his mother’s dismay over that particular magazine headline. Theresa Vitelli had not been pleased. And his sisters had been horrified. There had been so many texts and voice mails the day the magazine hit newsstands that Nico had ended up tossing his phone to the floor and stomping on it.

Not one of his finer moments. Nico took a deep breath.

“I shouldn’t have bothered you that evening,” he continued. “But you were walking by the bar just as I finished signing the contracts and you looked friendly. You had a clipboard, which seemed charmingly old-fashioned, and I saw you comforting a young girl, a Girl Scout, I think.” He didn’t tell her the weepy Girl Scout had been his niece. “You seemed nice. And I just wanted to celebrate.” He didn’t mention that she’d looked like a curvy golden goddess, and he was so nervous about talking to her that his tongue had dried up in his mouth.

“I don’t have drinks with men I don’t know,” she said. “I’m sorry if I was rude. The Girl Scouts had organized a dinner for their parents in Wildwood and I was really busy.”

“You were perfectly polite, but you broke my heart.” No lie. He hadn’t been that disappointed since Sharon Winn turned down his invitation to the junior prom.

“I’m sure it healed itself after a few minutes.”

Nico chuckled. “You’re right. The bartender bought me a scotch and welcomed me back to Mirror Lake. We played basketball together in high school.”

He lifted the makeshift ice pack and studied her swollen foot. It didn’t look good, but he didn’t want to worry her. “I think it’s time you got that ankle checked out.”

“I don’t—”

“Let’s get you back to your office and see if there’s a doctor in the house.” He grinned. “I’ve always wanted to say that.”

“You’re sure you can leave your ravioli? And your wine?”

“They’ll keep,” he said. “We can always have supper later on, if you’re up to it.”

“There’s an eightieth birthday party at seven and I have to make sure that the entertainment arrives. It’s a surprise.”

“In the ballroom, yes. It’s a seven-course dinner for fifty-one people. What’s the entertainment?” Nico handed the ice to an intern, preparing to carry Grace from the kitchen. He knew she would protest unless he kept her talking. She was trying to wiggle her toes again, but pain flickered across her face as she stretched out her leg.

“A polka band. The guest of honor loves to polka, so his children organized a little dance. We’re having the party in the ballroom because, according to the kids, the polka takes up a lot of room and their father can be quite exuberant when he dances.”

“Anything else?”

“A fund-raiser in the bar, but I don’t have to do anything for that. The tour group is all set, I think. You’re offering hot buttered rum and dessert after the sleigh ride?”

“Absolutely. They’ll be available in the lobby when the guests come staggering in, frozen from the cold and thrilled with the moonlight.” He bent over and lifted her into his arms. She let out a little squeak of protest, but her arms curved naturally around his neck as he headed toward the door.

“Michael!” His second in command looked up from the pasta machine.

“Yes, Chef?”

“You’re in charge.”

Michael winked at him and gave him a thumbs-up. “Absolutely, Chef. You take all the time you need.”

Nico stifled a smile. He had no qualms about leaving the kitchen to the staff. He’d trained them well these past four months, had hired and fired until he was satisfied that he had the best team possible. He handed her the ice pack to take with her. She was going to need it in the next few hours because that foot sure as hell wasn’t going to get better anytime soon.

“I’ve never done the polka,” he said. “Have you?”

“No.” She sighed. “I was looking forward to it, too, if I got the chance. This is so embarrassing.”

The handful of diners looked up curiously as Nico made his way through the dining room with Grace in his arms.

“You’re enjoying this,” she said, her hair tickling his chin.

“I am not,” he said, chuckling. “I hate having a beautiful woman in my arms. I would rather be rolling out pasta dough and scolding the interns. I would rather be scrubbing saucepans and cleaning ovens.”

“You’re too important to wash pans yourself, and you certainly don’t clean the ovens. Hi, Mr. Stanford. Did you ski today?”

“Sure did, Gracie,” the gray-haired gentleman replied. He had the remnants of a chocolate cake and half a cup of coffee in front of him. “What happened to you?”

“I twisted my ankle a little.”

“I hope you’re being well taken care of,” he said, giving Nico a warning look.

“I’m going to get her to a doctor,” Nico assured him. “Right now.”

“Good.” He smiled at Grace. “I’ll check with Noelle later and find out how you’re doing.”

Nico managed to get out of the restaurant, down the stairs and to the front desk with only about nine more people asking Grace what happened. Three young women in ski gear had giggled, obviously thrilled to see such a romantic sight, two men had eyed him suspiciously and several children asked Grace if she was being kidnapped.

Patsy met him at the bottom of the stairs.

“I just heard,” she said, peering at Grace’s foot. “It doesn’t look good, sweetie, but I love the red nail polish.”

“I had it done yesterday,” she said. “You can put me down, Nico. Really. You can.”

“All right.” He headed toward the sofa that fronted the fireplace. “Is this okay?”

“My office—”

“Doesn’t have a couch,” Nico said.

“It’s not as bad as it looks, but it’s starting to hurt a little bit more,” she told the hovering Patsy. “Nico has kept ice on it and that really helped.”

“What happened? Brian said you slipped and needed a doctor. I’ve called the two that I know are here, but they’re either still on the mountain or in town. I’ll take you over to the clinic. I called and they don’t close until seven.”

“I’ll take her,” Nico said, reluctantly settling his dream woman on the couch. She’d felt good in his arms, all curves and soft skin, her yellow curls tickling his face. She smelled of vanilla. Hand lotion, maybe? Or perhaps she used the homemade soap from the fancy bath shop in town.

“I think I just need to rest it a bit,” Grace said. “There’s no reason to make a big deal out of this.”

Patsy exchanged a look with Nico.

“One word, Grace,” he said. “X-ray.” He turned back to Patsy. “If you’d get her coat and purse and whatever else she’ll need, I’ll take her over to the clinic.” He hated the fact that she had hurt herself, hated that she was in pain. And since she’d hurt herself in his kitchen, he felt responsible. Getting to spend time with her was the silver lining on his guilt-filled cloud.

Grace protested again. “I just need some Tylenol and the ice pack. I’ll go home and take care of it myself.”

But Patsy wasn’t buying it. “And just how are you going to get up the stairs?”

Nico ignored the crowd that had gathered around the sofa. Children held cookies, parents held coats and the most recent guests checking in stood next to their luggage and stared. He tucked another velvet pillow behind Grace’s back. “Stairs?”

“She lives in a second-floor condo,” Patsy informed him. “Outside stairs. No elevator.”

“Grace can come home with me,” Nico declared. “I have four bedrooms. And a ramp.”

Patsy looked impressed. “Why do you have a ramp?”

He shrugged. “Grace will find it easy to get around. I live right down the street.”

“Stop talking about me as if I’m not here,” Grace grumbled. “Are there any rooms available?”

“I’ll check.” Patsy tried to hide her smile, but Nico saw a twinkle in her eyes when she turned back to him. “But I think Noelle already filled the rest of the rooms.”

“That was fast,” Grace said. “I thought we’d have cancellations after the guests heard about the wedding.”

“I have some news about that,” Patsy said. “But I’ll call you later and fill you in.”

“Hey, Pats! Grace! What’s going on?”

Nico turned to see three burly young men approaching. They were stuffed into identical navy down jackets and looked as if they’d been outside for hours.

“I slipped and fell,” Grace said, looking mortified. “Do not make a big deal about it, okay?”

One of the guys edged Nico aside and lifted the ice pack. “Uh-oh. Looks like a bad sprain or even a fracture. Come on, babe, let’s do it.”

Babe? Do it? Nico couldn’t let that go. “I’m taking her,” he said.

“It’s no problem,” the kid said. “We’ve got the vehicles here and Doc will have her fixed up in no time.”

“But what about the fund-raiser?” Patsy asked. “Aren’t you in charge of that?”

“Yeah, but there are enough other guys coming early. They won’t miss us.” He grinned, showing acres of white teeth. “We can take care of Gracie, easy enough.”

“Fund-raiser?” Nico wanted to deck him, if for no other reason than the sight of his hand on Grace’s bare leg.

“For Search and Rescue,” Grace explained. “You’re catering the appetizers, remember?”

“Oh yeah.” Twenty pizzas, and cheese and crackers. Done and done. Not exactly a culinary challenge, but that’s what the group ordered.

“I’ll get your things, Grace,” Patsy said. “You’ll be back here in no time and I’ll see what I can do about a room for you.”

Shoved to the sidelines, Nico watched as Grace was bundled into her black cashmere coat. In a matter of minutes she was out the door, being carried by one of the local EMTs and surrounded by two others. The men joked and laughed as if they were going to a party.

“Don’t look so sad,” Patsy said, touching his arm to get his attention. “You’ll have your chance.”

“I just did. And there it went.”

“Maybe, maybe not.”

That got his attention. “Please tell me there’s no room at the inn.”

She grinned. “There is one room available, but I won’t tell if you won’t.”

“Deal.”

“Don’t you dare break her heart.”

“I won’t. But she might break mine.”

“I know.” Patsy tapped his chest with her finger. “I’ve watched you mooning over her since you started working here.”

“It’s that obvious?”

“Oh yeah. For a big TV star, you’re kind of pathetic.”

“Not anymore,” he declared. “Not anymore.”

CHAPTER THREE

“I FEEL A lot better now.” Grace tried to sound emphatic, but her voice quavered a bit as she wobbled against Nico’s side. He’d been in the clinic’s waiting room, seated in the midst of texting teenagers and a mother with a screaming baby, when Grace had limped out, crutches under her arms and a medical boot on her right foot. On her left she wore one of Patsy’s running shoes, which her friend kept in her office in case she decided to use the treadmill in the workout room. A nurse had put an athletic sock over her injured foot before showing her how to put the boot on. “I can go back to work.”

“Sorry,” he said, not sounding sorry at all. “But that’s already been decided. Patsy said to tell you that she’d take over for you at the fund-raiser and she’d see you in the morning. If you’re okay to come to work in the morning, that is. What’s the verdict?”

“A nasty sprain, but nothing is broken. I need to stay off of it as much as I can, treat it with ice and keep it elevated.”

“Okay. Let’s go get it elevated and iced.”

“I have to pick up a prescription. Would you mind taking me to Kinney’s?” Her foot ached, but the twelve-year-old doctor had called in a prescription for painkillers at the pharmacy. “If you could help me get home, I would appreciate it.”

Nico was silent as he opened the door and helped her down the freshly shoveled ramp to the parking lot. His familiar Toyota 4Runner sat in a handicapped spot.

“Isn’t that illegal?”

“At seven thirty at night? With a woman on crutches?” He beeped the doors open and settled her into the passenger seat. “There. How bad is the pain?”

“I’m trying not to cry,” she admitted. He looked so concerned. She wanted to tell him not to worry about her, that she would be fine, but he backed away and shut the door.

“First stop, drugs,” he announced once he was behind the wheel. The car was warm, despite the cold temperature and the light snow flurries that danced in the air.

“Thank you.” She adjusted her seat belt and turned toward him. “I would have called Patsy for a ride home. I didn’t expect anyone to be waiting for me.” She’d felt a surprising mixture of relief and pleasure when she’d seen him sitting in one of those uncomfortable plastic chairs and reading an old issue of Sports Illustrated.

“Is there anyone I can call for you? Family?”

“My father lives in Boston, but he’s out of town for the holidays.” Not that he would have been at all helpful. “And my aunt, who lives in Saranac, has gone to help my cousin, who just had another baby. In Arizona.” She had friends, good friends, but it was four days before Christmas and no one needed an injured friend in their spare bedroom, or worse, on their living room couch. Even Karen, the one person she would have called after Patsy, had a houseful of in-laws and a set of eight-month-old twins.

“So you’re stuck with me.” Nico shot her a grin.

“I didn’t say that.”

“No, but you’re thinking it.”

“Just a little.” She couldn’t help laughing. It was either that or burst into tears. She wanted to curl up in her bed and pretend it was July.

He left the car running while he picked up the prescription, which gave Grace time to wonder how Nico was going to carry her up a flight of stairs to her little condo. He’d had no trouble carrying her down the stairs at the inn a few hours ago, but going up was a different deal. She could sit down and scoot on her rear, step by step. It would be cold, slow and undignified, but not impossible.

This was starting to get complicated. Maybe Patsy had found her a room at the lodge. If she could just get into a bed and lie down for a few hours, she was sure she’d feel better.

Nico returned with a bottle of water, her pills and a plastic bag filled with junk food, which he plopped in her lap.

“My sisters always wanted M&M’s when they were hurt. Marie and Cathy said that pain burns calories, and self-pity can be treated with Pepperidge Farm Milano cookies. Beth, on the other hand, believes in chicken soup. It’s all in the bag, so take your pick.”

“Really?” She peered inside. Sure enough, there were enough treats inside to compete with an especially good Halloween haul. And the soup was the boxed kind.

She loved the boxed kind with the little flat noodles.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He started the car and put it in Reverse. “You haven’t met my sisters? There are three of them, all older than me. They’ve been to the restaurant several times.”

“I don’t think I have.” She would have remembered. His parents had been to dinner, though. She’d seen them in the lobby but hadn’t met them yet. “You grew up here. Why did you come back?”

“My family owns Vitelli’s.”

“I know.” Vitelli’s was a large brick restaurant in the center of town. Famous for its pasta dishes and pizza, it was hugely popular with locals and tourists alike.

“I have a very large family,” he said.

“You’re lucky.” She thought about Aunt Ellen, so far away in Arizona this holiday. She’d texted photos of the new baby, a little girl with yellow fuzz on the top of her perfect little head.

“Yes,” Nico agreed. “I am.”

She fumbled in her purse for her cell phone and called Patsy. If she couldn’t haul herself up the outside steps to her condo, then a cozy room at the lodge was the next best thing.

“Sorry, honey,” her friend told her after Grace gave her the medical report. “Every single room is booked. You know how it is over the holidays.”

“That’s okay. Nico will help me get up the stairs at home.”

“No,” her driver said. “Nico won’t.”

“You’re not going home,” Patsy said, using her best motherly voice. “I went to your place and packed up some things for you and I gave them to Nico. He lives right down the street from the lodge, so it’s convenient.”

“It’s not convenient,” she protested.

“It is,” Nico said. “I have a very large, very empty house.”

“It is,” Patsy agreed. “Everything you need for overnight is in a suitcase or on hangers. By the way, you have an impressively organized closet. I’ve never known anyone who organized her outfits for the week and hung them on hangers labeled Monday, Tuesday, et cetera. It was quite amazing. Did you see that on Pinterest or invent it yourself?”

“Pinterest,” Grace admitted. “Every Sunday I organize my clothes. It saves time in the morning.”

“Someday you will have children and all of this will be a thing of the past.”

“What about putting a rollaway in my office? There would be room if we moved some of the boxes.”

Patsy sighed. “And have you limping back and forth to the ladies’ room? Wearing your flannel nightgown?”

“Well...”

“Did you get crutches?”

“Yes. And a boot I can take on and off.”

“Okay, then, sweetie. Are you on speakerphone?”

“No.”

“Go home with the handsome, sexy TV star. Let him cook you dinner and carry you around that big, glorious house he just bought. He’s a good guy, you know. Everyone likes him. He feels badly that you fell in his kitchen, so let him make it up to you.” With that, she clicked off, leaving Grace holding a silent phone.

“All set?” Nico drove past the lodge without slowing down.

“I can’t go home with you.” She actually heard herself whimper, for heaven’s sake.

“Why not?”

“It’s too...personal. I don’t even know you. Not really.”

“No time like the present,” he declared. “It’s not like we’re sharing a bed. You’ll have your own room. On the first floor. And you’ll have a private nurse.” He grinned.

“You.”

“Yep. Me. I’m going to bring you ice packs and hot tea and, if you’re lucky, I might even read you to sleep.”

She leaned back against the cushioned seat back and closed her eyes. “I do not believe this is happening. This morning I thought I had everything under control.”

“You have another option.”

“I do?” She kept her eyes closed. She didn’t believe it for a minute, especially since his voice held that thread of humor she had begun to recognize.

“I can, somehow, with enormous brute strength, haul you up your stairs and get you inside your home.”

“Sounds good to me. What’s the catch?”

“Then I stay with you. I can fetch and carry and dispense medication and sleep on the couch. You have a couch, don’t you?”

“Nope,” Grace lied, finding the idea of this almost-stranger poking around her home embarrassing. “I only have an antique rocking chair. Oak. Hard as a rock.”

“No big brown recliner with cup holders?”

“Not even a lumpy futon.”

“Well, that settles it, then.”

She reluctantly opened her eyes. They were well on their way out of town, heading away from her place and toward Mirror Lake Road. Her foot throbbed. She was hungry and thirsty and sleepy. She reached into the plastic bag and pulled out the M&M’s. It only took a few seconds to open the candy and self-medicate.