Mistletoe Magic Read online

  “What the—” a deep voice growled beneath her.

  “Please, let go of me!” she gasped from her perch atop him.

  And then the door burst open and light flooded the room. Inanely, Melissa stared at her rhinestone tiara, which had fallen on a decidedly masculine brow.

  “Daddy!” two young voices exclaimed.

  “What happened?” Louise shouted, gasping as she reached the top of the stairs. “Oh, good heavens!”

  Five pairs of eyes widened as the tableau froze for one interminable moment. Rafe Damon was the first to find his voice. “Who are you?” he demanded of the lovely creature who assaulted his senses.

  Her face turned the same becoming shade of pink as her dress. “I’m, uhh—”

  “The tooth fairy!” Gretta yelled, running to the bed. “Gran said she’d come! Let go of her, Daddy! You’re crushing her wings!”

  The little girl hopped onto the bed and frowned at her father, who still cradled the human bundle in his arms. With a guilty start, Rafe pushed the tooth fairy away from his throbbing body and sat straight up. He scowled as the tiara flipped off his head, bounced off his chest, and landed on the bed as the golden-haired young woman slipped to the floor with a jarring thunk.

  “Sorry,” he croaked, almost strangling on the word as he realized what had just transpired. One minute he’d been dreaming, the next hotly embracing a strange young woman.

  “What are you doing in Gretta’s bed?” Louise asked faintly, looking from Rafe to Melissa, then back to Rafe.

  Rafe rose quickly. He pulled his robe tighter, cinching the belt around his waist. “Gretta was afraid she’d have another nightmare, so I said I’d stay with her until she fell asleep.” He raked his fingers through his dark hair. “But I guess I fell asleep instead. I was the one who had a nightmare and thought she…uh, rescued me,” he muttered a little sheepishly.

  “Gretta was in my room,” Hank announced. “We were playing video games with my computer.”

  “Hank! You weren’t supposed to tell!” Gretta shouted at her older brother, getting to her pajama-covered feet and jumping up and down in the middle of her bed.

  Rafe glanced down at the pink confection and into her cornflower-blue eyes. At his blatant perusal, she frowned and blinked fiercely, but didn’t look away.

  “I believe this is yours.”

  Rescuing the tiara from the threat of being trampled under his daughter’s feet, Rafe held it out. The lovely creature took the crown and fixed it in her soft curls. When her wavering smile dimpled her cheek, he felt an unwanted flush of heat sear him. Good Lord, what was wrong with him? She had to be in her early twenties, certainly too young for a man with two kids.

  “Daddy, stop hogging my tooth fairy!” Gretta demanded. “I wanna play with her.”

  Melissa tore her gaze away from the man’s dark eyes with heavy lids—sexy bedroom eyes, she thought uneasily—and turned to the girl, who was dressed in dark green one-piece pajamas. She was still standing in the middle of the canopied bed, her arms crossed over her chest. With her waist-length dark hair and long bangs crowding her puckered brows, she looked like an angry little elf.

  “All right, sweetheart.” Rafe leaned over and kissed his daughter, then ruffled her bangs. “We’ll leave you and the tooth fairy alone.”

  “Good.”

  “I never had a tooth fairy,” Hank grumbled disgustedly as he was ushered out the door. “I had a deprived childhood.”

  Hiding her smile behind her hand, Melissa guessed the boy, who was a smaller version of his father, must be all of eleven or twelve. Obviously, he was resenting the attention his little sister was getting.

  “Are you a real tooth fairy?” Gretta asked in an excited whisper once the room was cleared.

  Melissa’s lips twitched. “What do you think?”

  Gretta smiled broadly, showing off her newest space where she’d lost the tooth. “I think we should pretend.” She used the bed as a trampoline once more. “You can be my very own tooth fairy for tonight. What can you do besides leave money under my pillow?”

  “I can tell you a story if you get ready to go to sleep.”

  Gretta trampolined down to her knees and scrambled under her covers. “About a fairy princess?”

  “About a dragon!” Melissa said fiercely, inspired by the bedroom walls, which were painted like scenery in the pages of a storybook. “One who lost a tooth.”

  “Yea! Was it a big dragon?”

  “A big, cranky dragon who hated any kind of changes. When he lost his tooth, he wanted it back, no matter what.”

  Melissa went on to tell Gretta about how unreasonable the dragon was and the tricks he played on the villagers until he found his tooth. Of course she made the heroine a beautiful little girl with dark hair and dark eyes who charmed the dragon so nicely that he gave her his tooth as a vase for her flowers.

  “Was the little girl’s name Gretta?”

  “I don’t know. The dragon didn’t tell me her name,” Melissa said, tucking the blanket under Gretta’s chin. “Now it’s time for you to get some sleep.”

  “But I’m not sleepy. Besides, you can’t go yet. Daddy has to take our picture first, or else how am I gonna prove you were here when I tell my friends ’bout you?”

  Noting the stubborn tilt to her chin, Melissa quickly acquiesced. Gretta raced out of the room to inform her father they were going down to the studio to have pictures taken. Seemingly over any embarrassment he might have felt at their accidental embrace, Rafe readily gave in to his daughter’s request. Louise came along to watch, but Hank refused to be any part of the project. He insisted he had some homework he’d forgotten about earlier, but Melissa could tell it was an excuse.

  While Rafe Damon snapped pictures of her and Gretta, Melissa studied him surreptitiously, keeping her manner aloof. His dark bedroom eyes, which seemed to follow her every movement and analyze her every expression, certainly went with his attire. His black robe with a rolled white collar over white-on-white, pin-striped pajama bottoms enhanced his dark good looks—olive skin, black hair with a natural wave, and more dark hair sprinkled over the expanse of chest peeking through the robe’s V neck. And his body was pretty sexy, even if it was only five-seven or so. Actually, his reasonable height was appealing to a woman who often wore three-inch heels to give herself credibility.

  He was attractive, Melissa reluctantly admitted, trying not to let his bold stare get to her. It unsettled her, made her feel as though he’d like to do more than take her in his arms and kiss her again—exactly the type of man she made a point to avoid.

  “That’s it,” Rafe finally said, to Melissa’s relief. He turned off the photofloods and, looking at Gretta, added, “Bed for you, young lady.”

  “Do I gotta?”

  “Yes, you gotta!” But the fierce scowl he aimed at his daughter was softened by a crooked smile that sent gooseflesh crawling all over Melissa’s body. “Now, scoot.”

  Gretta held up her arms and Rafe stooped so she could give him a big hug and kiss. “G’night, Daddy.” Then she went scampering away with her grandmother following.

  “I’ll see that she gets tucked in,” Louise said. “And, Melissa, thank you for coming. You were wonderful and Gretta was as thrilled as I’d hoped.” The older woman slipped the agreed amount of money into the tooth fairy’s hand and whispered, “Sorry about the mix-up.”

  “I enjoyed it,” Melissa admitted, then, because she didn’t want Louise—or Rafe, whose eyes now bored into her back—to think she meant the unexpected embrace, she quickly added, “I mean playing the tooth fairy for Gretta.” But Louise was already gone. At the amused male chuckle behind her, Melissa realized she was once more alone with the photographer, a situation not to her liking. She cleared her throat uneasily. “I’ll just get my things.”

  As she started toward the closet, Rafe’s words stopped her cold. “Don’t rush off. It will take me only a minute to get out of my pajamas.”

  Shocked at his blata
nt suggestion, Melissa whirled around. “Don’t you dare take them off!”

  His lips quivered and his eyes lit as he insisted, “I can’t see you home dressed like this. I might get arrested.”

  What a blunder! Flushing, she realized Louise must have asked Rafe to see her home safely while Melissa told Gretta the dragon story. And yet, she thought suspiciously, wasn’t the photographer’s expression speculative, sort of like a dragon contemplating its next tasty morsel?

  “Don’t worry about it.” Melissa backed up nervously. No man had ever looked at her in quite that way before, and she wasn’t sure she liked it. “You don’t have to take me home.”

  “Of course I do if I want to make sure you get there safely,” he said, advancing on her. “This city is dangerous at night.”

  Rafe was the one who looked dangerous, Melissa thought, noting his slow smile and bemused expression, the invitation in his dark eyes. She’d probably be safer going home alone.

  “How are you planning to get home anyway? By flying?” His bedroom eyes roamed over her wings as Rafe moved closer, practically forcing Melissa to back into the closet. “You’re such a cute little fairy. Dainty wings, dainty feet, dainty mouth…”

  His face only inches away, Melissa was sure he was going to kiss her. Whirling around, she found her jacket and bag and pushed by him. “I’ve got to get going.” She tried to keep her voice steady, unlike the unexpected thundering of her heart. She couldn’t believe the man had the nerve to try to make a pass at her! If he weren’t a friend of her boss, she’d tell Rafe Damon a thing or two.

  Before she could get her jacket on, he reached out and touched the wire and net wings. “How is this costume put together anyway? Are the wings attached or do they come off first?”

  That did it. Did Rafe Damon think his blatant come-on was sexy or something? “Stuff it, Mr. Damon. I’m leaving now.”

  Struggling into her jacket, she stormed out of the building, ignoring his earnest, “Melissa, wait a minute, please!”

  Melissa couldn’t believe the man had made her lose her temper so quickly. She’d been raised to think the best of people, to stay out of arguments, and not to say anything if it weren’t something nice. She’d learned her parents’ philosophy so well they had called her their “little angel,” although her best friend had given her the disgusting nickname of “Goody Two-Shoes.”

  Already feeling guilty and highly resentful that Rafe Damon had so easily made her cross her principles, Melissa huffed her way over to Christopher Street, where she flagged down a taxi she really couldn’t afford.

  Chapter Two

  Catching the eight-by-ten prints as they fell from the rotating drum of the dryer, Rafe carefully laid the black-and-white glossies of Gretta and her tooth fairy on the counter. He examined them closely.

  His daughter was a real imp, he thought proudly, smiling at her various expressions. She’d really hammed it up, alternately smiling, frowning, and sticking out her tongue. In contrast, the tooth fairy was mostly aloof in front of the camera, seeming to have her mind on other things. But there was one shot in which she’d looked straight into the lens, and the expression in her eyes made his blood sizzle.

  Whew!

  Melissa Ryan. Louise had told him that was the tooth fairy’s real name. Staring down at the photo in his hand, Rafe cursed softly as he vainly tried to control his masculine reaction to her fragile, innocent beauty. The other night he’d been unable to stop himself from teasing her unmercifully until she’d lost her temper. Then, when she’d run out onto the street, he’d felt guilty.

  To be truthful, what he’d really wanted to do was take Melissa in his arms to kiss her again.

  Rafe hit the counter with the flat of his hand. That was the problem! He wanted to kiss her even now, but, dammit, she was too young for him. Yet he couldn’t help being attracted to the golden-haired, blue-eyed doll who’d accidentally landed in bed with him. For the past two nights he’d had a rough time sleeping; he couldn’t eradicate her magical image from his mind.

  Rafe had never thought of himself as one of those men who tried to recapture his youth by courting some pretty young thing. But wasn’t that precisely what his mind—not to mention his body—was telling him to do? How ridiculous. He was a thirty-two-year-old man lusting after a younger woman who was probably right out of college. How old could Melissa be? Twenty-two? Ten years made a big difference, especially when two kids were involved.

  Still, Rafe regretted scaring Melissa away as he had. His actions had been uncharacteristic. He’d probably come on to her so strong because he’d had a hard day and one drink too many to relax. That or frustration must be warping his hormones. Maybe he ought to start visiting singles bars to find a woman his own age. Rafe tried not to cringe in distaste. He’d tried that scene a few times after he’d gotten over the betrayal of his divorce, but while he’d come away from the short-lived encounters physically gratified, he’d been left emotionally empty.

  When friends had fixed him up on blind dates, he hadn’t been any happier. Besides, not many women seemed to be in the market for a ready-made family—at least not the women he’d met.

  Why couldn’t he meet a mature, charming, affectionate woman who had a good sense of humor and liked children? Rafe wondered. Was that so much to ask? Although they weren’t part of his requirements, it wouldn’t hurt if she had golden hair and blue eyes and was small enough to look up at him…

  A bang at the door brought him out of his reverie. “What’s up?” he shouted, thinking it was Louise.

  “It’s me. Hux. You developing?”

  Guiltily, Rafe gathered the photos into a neat pile and turned them upside down on the counter. “I’m finished. Come on in.”

  “Hey, you old son-of-a-gun,” Hux greeted him with enthusiasm, clapping him on the back. “Long time, no see!”

  “Don’t worry, you’ll see me plenty at Haldan-Northrop tomorrow,” Rafe said, referring to the photo layout of Santa’s Workshop he’d been contracted to do.

  “Yeah, but what’s life coming to when you can’t find time to make arrangements with me personally? Now you send Louise to do your dirty work.”

  “I thought you liked Louise.”

  “Hey, pal, I love your mother. I have since you brought me home for Christmas vacation the year my parents were in Switzerland,” Hux said, referring to their college days.

  “With the holidays coming up, I’ve got too many bookings to attend to all the preliminary work.”

  “Ah, success.” Hux perched his lean, well-tanned body on a stool next to Rafe’s work counter and stretched out his long legs. “Does anything smell sweeter?”

  “You tell me.”

  “How about a woman’s perfume? That’s why I stopped by. I want you to come to Limelight with me tonight. The ladies who frequent the place are nothing short of spectacular.”

  “Hux, don’t you think a nightclub in a former church seems a little…tacky?”

  “Nah, not when it’s done in good taste, which it is. All the beautiful people agree.”

  And he was one of them. With a decent amount of money, a classy style, and fair good looks, Huxley Benton was considered quite a catch. A perennial bachelor, he planned to stay that way, and Rafe had no doubts that he would. His friend enjoyed the single life to the fullest, and he couldn’t imagine Hux tied down to one woman or to kids, whom the pseudocynic professed to hate.

  “I’m going to pass on this one,” Rafe told him firmly. “I need my beauty rest so I can do a great job for you tomorrow.”

  “Okay, if that’s the way you want— Hey, what’s this?” Hux had elbowed the short stack of photos, then had lifted one to look at it. His eyes lit with recognition and he whistled. “Wow. That sugarplum fairy is some doll, huh? Do I know how to pick them or what?”

  Rafe bristled at his friend’s wolfish tone and grabbed the photo out of Hux’s hand. It was the one with the expression.

  Hux merely picked up another of the prints and i
nspected it more closely. “You know, the kid’s got something.”

  “Forget it. She’s too young for you.”

  Hux looked puzzled, then shrugged. “Hey, you know I don’t mix business with pleasure. I’m interested professionally. I want you to do some test shots for me. Maybe I could use her at the store in some future promotions.”

  Rafe had been prepared to deal with Melissa Ryan at Santa’s Workshop for the photo layout, but working with her alone? That’s all he needed.

  “Listen, Hux, you’d better get someone else. I’ve already got so many appointments booked—”

  “Rafe, you owe me one. Remember the Baby Bountiful ads I threw your way last month? Do me this favor and we’re square.”

  With a deep sigh, knowing his tenacious friend wouldn’t give up until he did, Rafe agreed, smiling to himself as he remembered Melissa’s charms. “All right. I know when to say uncle.”

  Hux took the print back out of Rafe’s hand and smiled wolfishly, showing perfect white teeth as he studied it. “Look at that expression! This little pink sugarplum fairy’s got something all right. And I want you to get it for me.” He winked one green eye. “In photographs, that is.”

  Rafe looked forward to seeing Melissa Ryan in spite of his reservations. When he got her alone in his studio—well, a little flirtation couldn’t hurt anything, could it?

  “How come you’re not excited about this photo session?” Arlene asked Melissa as they changed into their costumes. “Our picture might be in The New York Times!”

  “Maybe I’m coming down with the flu,” Melissa told the black woman, sniffling for effect as she slid her feet into pink satin slippers.

  “’Tis the season.”

  Actually, she was in a funky mood this morning, but it had nothing to do with her health. She’d spent another restless night wondering how long it would be before she’d get to sleep. What in the world was wrong with her?

  “I’m ready to go down to the Workshop. Are you coming?” she asked Arlene.