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As the five beats stretched into ten, McGuire said, “Any questions?”
Dino raised one finger. “Who’s going to believe in a fiancé who turns up out of the blue?”
Once again he’d zeroed in on a key point. McGuire opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a manila envelope. “Got it covered. This is your complete history with my daughter—from first meet to secret weekends here in Manhattan at the Waldorf to the night that you popped the question on the skating rink at Rockefeller Center. Melted my little girl’s heart. She loves to skate—could have competed nationally if we hadn’t had to move around so much. Your relationship has been hush-hush so far, but Cat’s invited you here for Christmas to publicly announce the engagement and to meet her family. You have a two-week leave from the Pentagon.”
“Where am I going to be staying? I can’t do a very good job of protecting your daughter if I go back to my hotel room every night.”
McGuire opened the envelope and pulled out a key. “Cat’s apartment building is a co-op. A few months ago, the apartment next to hers became available, and I bought it for her as a surprise Christmas gift, figuring she could expand the space she has now. You can stay there. Both apartments overlook a courtyard that connects the building to the block the Cheshire Cat is on. As far as Cat’s employees are concerned, it will appear that you’re staying with her. You’ll have a day to memorize your background story before you drop in at the shop and surprise my little girl.”
“How is your daughter going to react to all this? Won’t she want to know why you’ve hired me to act as her bodyguard?”
“I’m not going to tell her that part.”
“Then whywould she agree to this fake fiancé masquerade?”
“I’m going to persuade her to cooperate over drinks this evening.”
Dino’s eyes narrowed. “You think she’ll agree?”
McGuire kept his smile easy, confident. There was still that little obstacle to overcome. Cat was her father’s daughter. She could be stubborn when she wanted to.
“Cat has a weakness for wanting to please her father—especially at Christmastime. And the fake engagement is the onlyway to protectmywife and daughter from Lucia Merceri.”
Dino inclined his head toward the portrait on the wall. “I’m not following. What part does your mother-in-law play in all of this?”
“Nothing in the drug smuggling part. But the old battle-ax is the prime mover in the fake engagement scenario.” McGuire leaned back in his chair. “Just about the time I learned about the danger my daughter is in, my wife came to me in tears. It seems that over the past year, her mother has been asking for progress reports on what Gianna is doing to get Cat ‘settled.’ Turns out my wife has been placating her mother with stories, telling her that Cat has been seeing someone secretly. Gianna told Lucia she discovered the trysts by accident and she hasn’t wanted to get involved because she was afraid of jinxing it.”
“An interesting story,” Dino commented.
“Yeah. In my wife’s defense, I have to say that she’s been focused on her daughter Lucy’s pregnancy and didn’t have much time left over to run a campaign to get Cat a husband. So she made up a whopper. And Lucia’s been fascinated by it. Last week she announced that she was coming over here to celebrate Christmas with us, and she wants to meet the man Cat is seeing. My wife is in a panic about what her mother will do when she discovers the lie. It won’t take Cat long to figure out that if she goes along with this masquerade, she can bring some peace to the family during the holidays, and her stepmother will owe her. Christmas is a special time for Cat. She wants to make everyone happy. And Lucia is flying back to Rome on New Year’s Day. Crisis over.”
Dino studied the colonel. “So the fake engagement is supposed to fool your mother-in-law until New Year’s Day?”
“It could actually last a bit beyond that, depending on how the drug smuggling problem is resolved. I’m leaving the story about your eventual breakup in Gianna’s capable hands. Apparently my wife can lie like a trouper.”
Dino unfolded himself from the chair and picked up the key and the envelope. “If that’s all, sir, I’ll take this back to my hotel room and go over the specifics.”
McGuire rose and extended his hand. “Good, good. You’ll report for duty at the Cheshire Cat tomorrow no later than eleven hundred hours.”
“Yes, sir.”
McGuire waited until Dino had his hand on the doorknob. “One more thing.”
Dino glanced back.
“It’s not part of the job, but it would be great if you could get Cat to relax and have a little fun. The girl is so focused on her store that she doesn’t take time to smell the roses anymore.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
McGuire managed to hold in his sigh of relief until he’d watched the elevator doors slide shut on Dino Angelis. That had gone almost too smoothly. Then he took his cell phone out of his pocket and dialed a familiar number at the Pentagon.
“Jimmy, you’ve called to tell me you owe me fifty bucks, right?” Bobby Maxwell asked.
Grinning, McGuire sank into his chair. Bobby had always been a bit cocky, so he kept his tone serious. “You haven’t won the bet yet. They haven’t even met. And first things first. My daughter’s in danger. That’s his primary mission.”
“A little adventure is just what they need. It’ll bring them closer.”
“It might turn out to be more than a little adventure.”
“Angelis has the best instincts of any man I’ve ever trained.” Bobby’s tone too had turned serious. “If there’s something going on in your daughter’s store, he’ll spot it. And he’ll know what to do.”
“I hope you’re right.”
“I am. And I’m also right about the fact that he’d make the perfect man for our little girl.”
“We’ll see,” was all McGuire said. But he was already hoping that his friend Bobby would win the little wager they’d made. He too thought that Dino Angelis just might be the perfect match for Cat.
CASS ANGELIS’ CELL PHONE RANG just as she was about to leave the tower room in her house. A glance at the caller ID had joy bubbling up inside of her. “Dino?”
“You probably already know I’m not going to make it home for Christmas.”
She’d sensed that much last night. She’d also sensed there was more, but the images she’d seen in her crystals hadn’t been clear. Except for the woman—tall with reddish hair and stunning green eyes. Turning, Cass moved to her desk and sat down. The client who was due any minute would have to wait. Cass could hear traffic noises in the background on the other end of the line.
“I’m in Manhattan on a job. I couldn’t say no.”
“I understand.” And Cass did in spite of the band of pain that tightened around her heart.
For a moment, there was silence on the other end of the line, and Cass waited. Of all of her “children,” her son Dino had always been the most reserved.
Twelve years ago when her husband Demetrius and her sister Penelope had been killed in a freak boating accident, Cass and Dino, her brother-in-law Spiro and his four children, Nik, Theo, Kit and Philly, had moved into the huge house Cass’s father had built. From that day on, Cass had raised her nephews and niece as her own, and Dino had come to regard them more as brothers and kid sister than cousins. Dino had been the only one who’d had a desire to see the world, the only one who’d moved away from San Francisco.
“There’s a woman,” Dino finally said. “I sense that the Fates have put her in my path for a reason. And I had a vision about her.”
The redhead, Cass knew. “You’ll figure it out.”
Dino laughed then, and Cass’s mood suddenly lightened. “You’ve been saying that to me for as long as I can remember.”
“A mother’s job,” Cass replied. “And I don’t recall that I was ever wrong.”
“I’ll get home as soon as I possibly can. My discharge papers are coming through in a couple more weeks. That was supposed to be your Christmas present.”
“Well.” She hadn’t seen that, hadn’t even allowed herself to hope for it. “I’ll have a surprise for you too—when you get here.” She wanted Dino to meet Mason Leone, the man she’d been dating, in person before she told him that after all these years, she’d fallen in love again.
The traffic noises grew louder. “I have to go. I’ll try to keep in touch. Love you.”
“Love you, too,” Cass said, but Dino had already disconnected.
A quick glance at her watch told Cass that she still had a few minutes before she had to go down to her office. Crossing quickly to her desk, she took her crystals from a drawer. Midnight was usually the hour when she could see things more clearly. But she simply couldn’t wait.
Sinking into her chair, she cleared her mind and waited. One by one the crystals began to glow in her hands. In their centers, mist blossomed, parted, then closed again. In one, she saw Dino in his full dress uniform dancing with the redheaded woman she’d seen before. Around them, lights twinkled. As the mists thickened in one crystal, they thinned in another.
Cass glimpsed a doll this time, with a porcelain face and a red silk dress. When her attentionwas drawn to a third crystal, Cass felt fear knot in her stomach. She could see the redheaded woman again, but she was no longer with Dino. She was in a dark place, and she was facing the barrel of a gun. The shot that rang out nearly had Cass dropping her crystals.
In spite of the client who was waiting for her, Cass sat where she was for a few more minutes while fear warred with joy inside of her.
Dino and the woman would be facing serious danger, but Dino had been right. The Fates were making him an offer, and if he chose to accept it, he would find his true love.
ON HER WAY DOWN from her office, Cat took a moment to breathe and glance around her store. A toddler clutching his mother’s hand had decided to sing along with the rendition of “Jingle Bells” pouring out of the sound system. Another child was busily plucking ornaments off the Christmas tree she’d set up in one of the corners. Cat grinned. She had to retrim that tree almost every night, but it was worth it.
The bell over the Cheshire Cat’s door jingled. From her vantage point halfway up the spiral staircase in the center of her store, Cat spotted Mrs. Lassiter and Mrs. Palmer, two of her most loyal customers. No doubt they were here to pick up their dolls. She dashed down the rest of the stairs. Just as she reached the two women, the bell jingled again, and more customers pushed their way into the store. Cat briefly shifted her gaze to the newcomers, and she immediately recognized them as two sisters, Janey and Angela Carter. They had also ordered the dolls. Cat sent them what she hoped was a welcoming smile.
“I came to pick up my granddaughter’s doll,” Mrs. Lassiter said in a voice that carried. “It’s one of the special ones you ordered from that place in Mexico.”
“Yes. From Paxco, Mexico.” Cat did her best to project calm reassurance. “I’m sorry, but they haven’t arrived yet. I expect them—”
“You said they’d be here today. What’s the problem?”
Ignoring the nerves dancing in her stomach, Cat smiled. “No problem.”
“When will they arrive?”
Cat wished she knew. “I’m hoping tomorrow. Thursday at the latest.”
The bell over the door jingled again, and a portly whitehaired man entered and looked around. Cat was sure she’d never seen him before, and yet there was something about him that was familiar. He crossed to Adelaide and cut rudely into the line in front of her counter. Someone voiced a protest, and for a moment Adelaide lost her usual pleasant expression. She even dropped a toy soldier she was about to ring up. Then she said something to the man and pointed in Cat’s direction. As he strode toward her, Cat suddenly figured out why he might look familiar. With his white hair and mustache, and the narrow unframed spectacles that sat nearly on the end of his nose, he reminded Cat a bit of Santa Claus.
Oh, how she wished he were. Where was Santa when you needed him?
“But you’re not sure?”
Cat shifted her gaze back to Mrs. Lassiter. Worry outweighed the annoyance in the older woman’s voice now, and Cat could see the same concern reflected in Mrs. Palmer’s face, as well as in the Carter sisters’.
The shop was packed. It was Christmas week in Manhattan and lunch hour—that time of day when both locals and tourists poured into stores with one purpose—to finish their Christmas shopping.
And her father had wanted her to join him for lunch in midtown? Right. Her family didn’t really have a clue about the kind of pressures that built once you combined Christmas, children and toys.
Cat met the worried gazes in front of her one at a time. “I’m confident that the dolls will arrive in the next two days.” They had to.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw that her assistant Adelaide had fully recovered from her encounter with the Santa Claus man and was ringing up a fairly hefty sale for a young couple. Tourists. The man had a camera slung over his shoulder and the woman was unfolding a street map.
“So the bottom line is that you have no idea whether or not the doll I ordered will arrive by Christmas Eve.” This time it wasn’t Mrs. Lassiter who spoke. It was the Santa Claus man. His voice carried and several customers who’d been browsing nearby stopped to stare in his direction.
“You said the dolls would be here no later than today,” Mrs. Lassiter chimed in. “Don’t we have a free trade agreement with Mexico? Would it help if I called my congressman?”
Cat turned the full wattage of her smile on the small group gathered in front of her and kept her voice calm. “I don’t think it’s time to panic yet. I only learned yesterday afternoon that the delivery of the dolls might be delayed a day or so. Might be. They could be on their way right now. Each doll is handmade, and a few of them weren’t quite ready for shipment. I told them to ship the ones that were immediately.” What she didn’t add was that Juan Rivero, who’d called her with the bad news, had answered her by saying that they only needed one more day. And then he’d hung up.
“In the meantime, my buying assistant, Matt Winslow, flew to Paxco, Mexico, late last night. I’m hoping to hear from him any time now.”
She should have heard from him already, even with the time difference. And Matt wasn’t answering his cell. Cat concentrated on the unhappy faces in front of her and firmly pushed that worry out of her mind.
“Worst case scenario, they’ll express ship the ones that are ready today, and Matt will personally bring back the dolls that are holding up the shipment with him.”
“You’re sure?” This question came from a very worried Mrs. Palmer.
“My granddaughter Giselle is expecting Santa to bring her that doll for Christmas. I showed her your brochure and that doll is the only one she wanted,” Mrs. Lassiter said. “I don’t want her to be disappointed.”
“It’s the same with my daughter.” In contrast to Mrs. Lassiter’s confrontational expression, Mrs. Palmer’s eyes held a great deal of worry and sadness. Her black wool coat was off the rack and was growing threadbare at the sleeves. “That doll was the only gift Mandy asked Santa for.”
Cat’s heart twisted. Both Mrs. Lassiter and Mrs. Palmer frequented her store. And because she made it a habit to learn as much as she could about her customers, Cat was aware of the number of visits that Mrs. Palmer and Mandy had made to the Cheshire Cat to choose that one special gift. If it didn’t arrive, Cat wagered there would be nothing else under the tree.
But the shipment would arrive. She’d been chanting that sentence to herself like a mantra all day long. The unique dolls that were now being finshed in the small town of Paxco, Mexico, were even more special to Cat because she’d asked the craftsmen to create them from a design of her mother’s. She’d taken twenty-four orders and added on one she intended to give her father. That had been in mid-November.
“The dolls are going to get here,” Cat assured the group in front of her. Her gaze lingered on the Santa Claus man. With his index finger, he shoved his glasses to the bridge of his nose and met her gaze for a moment. Once again, something tugged at the edge of her mind. She knew that she’d never seen him in the store and she wondered who had taken his order.
“You can track the shipment, can’t you?” The question came from the Santa Claus man in a calm voice.
Cat beamed a smile at him. “Absolutely. Just as soon as I get a tracking number.” Matt was supposed to phone her with that information. “Tell you what. I have a list of all your names and your phone numbers. I’ll call you just as soon as I get some news from my assistant. It should be before the end of the day. First thing in the morning at the latest.”
In her peripheral vision she saw that Adelaide had stepped away from the counter to assist a customer, and there was now a line at the checkout station. Matt was supposed to be here working today, but though she needed him badly, she needed him in Paxco more.
She masked her relief as the small crowd in front of her began to drift away—all except for the Santa Claus man who stepped forward and handed her a card.
“I’d appreciate a call the moment you get the tracking number.”
She glanced down at it, noted the ritzy address on East 70th and the name. George Miller. It didn’t ring a bell. She glanced back up at him. “Have we met before, Mr. Miller? You look familiar to me, but I can’t quite place it.”
He gave her a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “No. I would have remembered if we’d met before, Ms. McGuire.” He turned to exit the shop.
Cat tucked the card into her pocket, took out the notebook she always carried with her, and jotted down a reminder to personally call each customer who was waiting for a doll just as soon as they arrived.
One crisis postponed, she told herself as she moved as quickly as she could toward the checkout counter. As she did, she brushed by Adelaide.
Pitching her voice low, Adelaide said, “Nicely done. You’re better than anyone I know at defusing panic attacks.”
“I didn’t do so well on my own,” Cat murmured.
Adelaide shot her a quick sideways glance. “At least no one brought up the Nor’easter that’s due to arrive tomorrow. If they close down the airports…”
Cat clamped her hands over her ears, and Adelaide’s rich laugh filled the shop. She was a round, comfortable-looking single woman in her late fifties who combined a love of children with an accounting degree from Sarah Lawrence. In addition, she had a personal warmth that reminded Cat of Paula Deen, one of the most popular chefs on the Food Network. Adelaide had retired early from a lucrative job at Price Waterhouse and referred to her work at the Cheshire Cat as her little mad money job.
Adelaide patted Cat’s shoulder. “Just teasing. These winter storms are never as bad as the predictions. It’s all hype.”
“From your mouth to God’s ears,” Cat said. Then she added, “The man who cut into your checkout line earlier—George Miller—did you take his order for one of the dolls?”
“No. I’ve never seen him before. Have you?”
Cat shook her head. “But there’s something familiar about him.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Cat spotted the beginnings of a protest at the checkout counter. Dashing forward, she beamed a smile at the man who was first in line and rang up the sale. While he was signing the credit card receipt, she pulled her cell phone out and speed-dialed her neighbor.
Josie Sullivan was a retired schoolteacher in her early seventies who’d moved into the apartment below Cat’s about a year ago. She had an ethereal air that reminded Cat of one of Tennessee Williams’ southern heroines. But beneath her seemingly fragile exterior, Josie had an energy and an ironwilled determination that must have served her well in a thirdgrade classroom.
It certainly worked when she was steering customers toward a sale. Off and on over the past year, Josie had been filling in at the store during what Cat had dubbed the “crush hours.” Since their apartments were in the building that shared a courtyard with the Cheshire Cat, Josie could make it to the store on a moment’s notice. All she had to do was exit the back of their building, cross the courtyard and take a shortcut down an alley. The arrangement was working out so well that Cat was going to offer her a more permanent part-time job right after the first of the year.
“Cat, tell me you desperately need me in the store,” Josie said the instant she picked up her phone. “I’m simply bored to death.”
Cat smiled. “I desperately need you in the store.” Then she held out her hand to the harried-looking woman who was next in line at the counter. “Sorry you had to wait. Let me take that for you.”
BY EIGHT O’CLOCK, Cat’s head was aching and her feet were killing her, but she was finally able to lock the front door of her toy store. Even though the Cheshire Cat officially closed at seven, the shop had still been filled with shoppers. During the week before Christmas, one had to go with the flow, but she’d insisted that Josie and Adelaide leave at seven. On Thursday theywould close at 6:00 so that they could all attend the big charity ball her stepmother chaired each holiday season.
Cat had bought tickets for all of her employees, hoping to placate her stepmother. Gianna Merceri McGuire was not going to be pleased when Cat arrived without a date in tow.
A date. In the past year and a half, the concept had become foreign to her. The last time she’d gone out with a man she’d still been working at Macy’s.
It was then that she once more recalled the stranger who’d been standing at the edge of the small crowd on the sidewalk that morning. He’d been teasing his way into her mind all day. This was the first opportunity she’d had to think about the odd reaction she’d had to him.
No, odd wasn’t the precise word. She’d never had such an intense reaction to a man in her life. Not even to the men she’d taken as lovers. Cat frowned as she recalled that moment when his eyes had collided with hers. The contact had been as intimate as a touch. She hadn’t been able to think or move. All she could do was feel. Desire—raw, primitive, compelling—had filled her. And in that instant, an image had formed in her mind of the two of them naked, their legs tangling as they rolled across a floor.
Which was absolutely ridiculous. He was a complete stranger. She’d barely caught a glimpse of him.
But she had no trouble picturing him now. He’d been big, broad-shouldered and tall. He’d had a strong face, like a warrior. In the black leather bomber jacket and jeans, he’d looked tough. Not her usual type. But that hadn’t stopped her from imagining their bodies locked together.
Fisting her hands at her side, Cat pushed the image out of her mind. There had to be a rational explanation for what she’d felt—what she was still feeling. First of all, she hadn’t slept much the night before.And hewas a man whowould stand out in any crowd. Her body had obviously been trying to tell her something. Devoting all her time to making the Cheshire Cat a success had left a void in her life. That had to be it.
She’d better get back into the dating scene. Nothing serious. But some simple, uncomplicated sex held a certain appeal. Pulling her notebook out of her jacket pocket, she jotted a note to herself. NewYear’s resolution #1: Start dating again.
And the plan would have certain benefits. Next year she might have an escort for Gianna’s charity ball. Her stepmother wanted her in a serious relationship with a “suitable” man—suitable meaning someone with the proper social standing. Cat wasn’t about to walk down the path that Gianna had all mapped out for her, but a date now and then, someone to see a movie with—that would be enjoyable.
Right. Who was she kidding? When she’d looked into that stranger’s eyes this morning, going to a movie with him had been the last thing on her mind. She’d thought of sex, raw, wild, incredible.