Santa Under Cover Read online

  Praise for

  SHARRON McCLELLAN

  “[This is] one heck of a thrill ride. It will get your heart pumping, not only for the nonstop action, but also for the so-called hardened mercenary who has no intention of playing the hero—until he falls in love.”

  —RT Book Reviews on Mercenary’s Honor (4.5 stars)

  “The action is swift and emotions run high…a story of romantic suspense at its best.”

  —Cataromance.com on Mercenary’s Honor

  SHARRON McCLELLAN

  began writing short stories in high school but became sidetracked when she moved to Alaska to study archaeology. For years, she traveled across the United States as a field archaeologist specializing in burials and human physiology. Between archaeological contracts she decided to take up the pen again and soon discovered Romance Writers of America. In 2002, she sold her first novel. Sharron now blends her archaeological experience with her love of fiction. To learn more, visit her at www.sharronmcclellan.com. She loves to hear from her readers.

  SHARRON McCLELLAN

  Santa Under Cover

  CONTENTS

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Dear Reader,

  What better way to keep warm on these brisk November nights than with this month’s adrenaline-pumping romances from Silhouette Romantic Suspense?

  What would you do if the lights went out at Christmas? Three stellar authors—Beth Cornelison, Sharron McClellan and Jennifer Morey—contribute heartwarming stories to our Blackout at Christmas (#1583) anthology, which features three couples as they fall in love during a Seattle blackout. Also available this month, you won’t want to miss the second book in the author-led miniseries TOP SECRET DELIVERIES, The Cowboy’s Secret Twins (#1584), by Carla Cassidy. Here, a single mom unwittingly finds herself at the home of her babies’ father, who then has to keep them out of harm’s way.

  Popular author Linda Turner begins her new family-themed miniseries THE O’REILLY BROTHERS with His Wanted Woman (#1585), which involves danger and romance in our nation’s capital. You’ll love Sheri WhiteFeather’s sexy beginning to her miniseries WARRIOR SOCIETY, Imminent Affair (#1586), where a noble hero with amnesia protects the woman he loves from a deadly threat.

  These romances will definitely keep you toasty this month. As always, we deliver on our promise of breathtaking romance set against a backdrop of suspense. Have a wonderful November and happy reading!

  Sincerely,

  Patience Smith

  Senior Editor

  To the Cowan Family (Barb, Jim, Mickey and Alissa, Corey, Brett, Mo, the Boys and everybody else)—thank you for all the wonderful Christmas memories.

  It still doesn’t seem like the Holidays

  unless I have “Tom and Jerry” mix in the fridge…

  Love you,

  Sharron

  Chapter 1

  “N o, you can’t have chocolate.” Gwyneth Colton glanced at one of the three children following her through the Bellevue Mall, little hand clutching little hand so they formed a human chain with her as the anchor. “I’m not sending you back with a sugar buzz. Your moms would have a fit.”

  She steeled herself, waiting for the whining and begging that was sure to follow.

  “Okay,” six-year-old Connor replied. No complaining. No tantrum. Certainly no whining or begging. Just quiet acceptance that he wasn’t getting what he wanted. Again.

  Or ever.

  Why couldn’t they be spoiled brats? She had little experience with children, but since they’d arrived at the mall to visit Santa, she’d seen enough of those children to know what to expect. They demanded. Screamed. Called their parents names and said they hated them.

  But living in a women’s shelter, these kids were anything but spoiled, and Connor’s simple reply told her just how much her expectations were off.

  And that the attitude problem wasn’t theirs. It was hers.

  Gwyn sighed, wishing she could blame work. When she’d become a private investigator, she’d thought it would be exciting. Instead, her days were spent photographing people who wanted to defraud insurance companies or taking pictures of philandering spouses.

  All in all, it left her bored and a bit depressed.

  And she couldn’t blame Richard, either. Her latest boyfriend, he’d broken up with her just before the holiday season. But she’d always known he wasn’t forever. He was something to do on the weekend.

  No, neither crappy relationship nor boring job could account for her bad attitude. The fault was hers and hers alone. She was angry at herself for settling. Settling for a boyfriend that didn’t love her. Settling for cases that left her empty.

  Gwyn bent down, her thick, waist-length blond hair falling forward, until she was level with Connor and the other two children. “Tell you what. After we visit Santa, we’ll buy some candy.” Their eyes widened. She smiled, warmed by their reaction. “Frangos for everyone?”

  The “Godiva of the Pacific Northwest” chocolates might be a little rich for the kids—heck, they’d be happy with a Hershey bar—but it was Christmas, and Frangos was a Seattle tradition.

  They grinned at her in unison, and the two boys erupted with small cheers as their answer. Then quiet, dark-haired, five-year-old Allie leaned in. “Thank you,” she whispered.

  So polite. Such good kids. Gwyn blinked back sudden, surprising tears. “Okay, let’s go see Santa.”

  Rising onto her toes, she scanned the area until she spotted Santa’s Snowman Village, a long line of children—and her sister, Glory. Standing near the front of the line and dressed in a gold-threaded sweater that was the match to her own, her sister was hard to miss.

  Glory spotted her, as well, and waved her over.

  “Okay, everyone, Santa is up ahead.” All three pulled on her arm at the announcement, eager to get in line. Michael broke free of the pack.

  “Wait. Wait!” she shouted. A flicker of panic washing over her, Gwyn raised her voice just enough to let them know she meant it while she clutched the boy’s jacket, yanking him to a stop. She breathed a quiet sigh of relief. If he’d gotten away…If she’d lost him…

  “I need you all to stay with me,” she said, willing her heart to stop pounding.

  “Or we get on the naughty list?” Connor asked.

  “Maybe,” Gwyn said, trying not to smile at his solemn expression. “Let’s just make sure that doesn’t happen.”

  She hurried the kids toward Glory. “Isn’t this great?” her sister said, hugging Gwyn as the kids fell into line with Glory’s two kids from the shelter.

  Great? Outside, the rain had turned to ice and was growing worse, parking had been a nightmare, and the thickness of the crowds tested her nerves in a way she never thought possible.

  Despite the negatives, Gwyn couldn’t be irritated. Not when Glory beamed at her and the kids chattered and laughed as they waited.

  “Except for the lack of eggnog with rum, yes,” Gwyn said.

  “Well, I can’t offer you nog, but I can offer you eye candy,” Glory teased. Winding her arm through Gwyn’s, she nodded toward one of the elves milling about near Santa. “What do you think of him?”

  Gwyn resisted the urge to roll her eyes at her sister’s blatant tactics to fix her up and reminded herself that Glory was just trying to help.

  But there would be no dating. Not right now. In the spirit of being “Richard-free” and tired of being the bearer of bad news that broke up another marriage, she’d promised herself she’d remain single until she figured out what she wanted. For Christmas, sh
e’d focus on the things that mattered. Like family, and fidelity and being true to herself.

  “A bit tall for an elf, isn’t he?” Gwyn said, trying not to stare. Whoever he was, he needed to lay off the candy canes. His thick, green tights left nothing to the imagination.

  “Not him,” Glory said. “Santa.”

  “You think Santa is hot? That’s wrong,” Gwyn whispered, even as she turned her attention to the man in red. Watching him through her lashes, she saw him lift a child off his lap, the motion causing his beard to swing outward.

  It wasn’t much, but from her angle it was enough to reveal a man not much older than her and with a strong jaw shaded by a day’s worth of dark growth. Couple that with broad shoulders that pulled at his padded costume and Gwyn began to reconsider her “no dating” vow.

  Hot Santa. “Really wrong,” she finished, still staring.

  “Yeah, you sound appalled,” Glory said, laughing. “You should let him know what you’d like for Christmas. I bet he has something you’d want.”

  No doubt. Gwyn kept the thought to herself. There was no point in encouraging her sister. “You need help.”

  “And you need a decent boyfriend with a big—

  “Glory!”

  “—heart,” Glory finished.

  “Professional help,” Gwyn said.

  The elf waved Connor forward, and the tow-headed child looked up at Gwyn. “Go on,” she said, and before she finished the short sentence, Connor bolted up the two short stairs. In seconds, he was on Santa’s lap, whispering what he wanted.

  Gwyn smiled at the scene. This was why she’d come.

  Less than a minute later, and with the gratuitous candy cane in hand, the boy hugged Santa and jumped down. Gwyn waved at Connor. “Wait over there,” she called out, pointing at an oversize gingerbread man on the far side of the fake candy bridge. Grinning, Connor plopped down at the cookie’s feet, eyeing his candy cane but not opening it.

  “You’re next,” she said to Allie, giving her a nudge.

  Instead of running up the stairs, the little girl clutched Gwyn’s leg, burying her face against her denim-clad thigh.

  “I think you’ll have to go with her,” Glory said. “Maybe you can sit on Santa’s lap.” Snickers raced through the crowd behind them from both kids and parents.

  Gwyn’s cheeks heated. “Please, speak up,” she said over her shoulder. “I don’t think the North Pole heard you.”

  Glory grinned then stuck her tongue out.

  Resisting the urge to flip her sister off, Gwyn smoothed Allie’s hair. “It’s okay. You don’t have to go.”

  The little girl’s eyes welled with tears.

  Oh, crap. Gwyn’s heart beat harder. What was wrong now? She told her she didn’t have to go. “You want to go?” Gwyn asked, taking a shot as to the reason behind the unexpected waterworks.

  Allie held up her arms in the international sign for “pick me up.”

  “Santa’s lap,” Glory whispered in her ear.

  “Bite me,” Gwyn whispered back. Looking at Santa, she shrugged, at a loss as to what to do. Was she even allowed to go up there? He crooked his finger, motioning her to come forward, his eyes smiling as he answered her silent question.

  Great. Glory was going to love this. With a determined sigh, Gwyn picked up Allie. “Come on, sweetie.” The little girl wrapped around her arms round her neck as Gwyn climbed the steps.

  “Hi, Santa.” Gwyn said, trying not to stare into his eyes. Vivid, bright green eyes. Like holly. And while the skin around them was unmarred by wrinkles, there was something in his gaze that told her this Santa had seen more to life than most.

  Then he smiled at her—a broad grin behind a white beard that made her knees weak.

  Hot Santa.

  The litany tripped through her head, and she reminded herself that she was not here to ogle the man in red. She blinked. “This is Allie.”

  “Hi, Allie.” His deep voice was as warm and reassuring as a down blanket. “Do you want to talk to me?”

  Other than a brief nod, Allie remained motionless.

  This time, Santa glanced past them. “There are other kids waiting, Allie. And I have to leave soon to get to the North Pole and help pack the sleigh.”

  The beard might hide his facial expression, but his point wasn’t lost on Gwyn.

  Allie whimpered, the sound almost imperceptible it was so quiet. There was only one solution. Taking a deep breath, she moved closer. With Allie still in her arms, Gwyn sat on Santa’s lap, ignoring the laughs behind her.

  He “oofed” under their weight. Despite that, his thighs felt firm beneath her. He placed his hand on the small of her back, fingers splayed, and sending shivers up her spine.

  Hot Santa? Oh, God, yes.

  She swallowed, trying to ignore the shivers as they rippled outward. “Allie, can you tell Santa what you want for Christmas?” she asked, hoping she seemed more nonchalant than she felt.

  “Barbie,” was the whispered answer.

  “A Barbie it is,” Santa said, chuckling. His green eyes met Gwyn’s. “How about you? What can I bring you for Christmas?”

  A series of replies flickered through her head, and all guaranteed to put her on the naughty list that Connor talked about. Swallowing hard, she smiled at him, ignoring the urge to yank down the white cotton and see the more of the man behind the beard. “Pencil me in for a Barbie, too.”

  “You’re not too old?”

  “Old?” Her mouth dropped open in mock outrage. “I am not—”

  The lights in the mall died, leaving them in darkness and cutting her off as the Snowman Village erupted in screams. Allie’s grip on Gwyn’s neck tightened into a stranglehold, and Gwyn clutched Santa’s shoulder, steadying herself.

  “It’s okay,” she said, trying to soothe the little girl. “It’s just the storm. The lights will be on in a minute.”

  The lights flickered back to life with her words. Relieved, Gwyn looked at the line. Glory had the kids in a group around her. Their eyes met. Thanks, she mouthed.

  Still sitting on Santa’s lap, she turned to check on Connor. He stood next to the oversize cookie, his eyes wide with fear, clutching the candy cane as if it were a life preserver.

  Her stomach tightened. Oh, no. This wasn’t good. She started to rise. “Connor, stay—”

  Once again, the lights flickered and died. Around them, the shouts of panic increased, and Santa jerked her back down to his lap. “Stay put,” he said. “It’s safer than stumbling around in the dark.”

  He had a point. Especially considering she had a small child stuck to her like a limpet. “Okay.”

  “What’s your name?” Santa’s voice filtered through the shouts.

  Gwyn’s head snapped toward him. “Excuse me?” Was he hitting on her? Now? He might be hot, but no one was that hot.

  “I’m not trying to pick you up,” he said. She didn’t need to see him to hear his exasperation. “If the lights don’t come back on in a minute, we might have a situation. So a name would be useful.”

  A situation? The emphasis sounded ominous and specific and made her wonder what Hot Santa did when he wasn’t playing the jolly old elf.

  “Gwyn,” she replied.

  “I’m Nick.”

  She continued, “Thrilled to meet you. Now, if you could just hold Allie for a second, I have a scared little boy—”

  “He’ll be fine,” Nick said, cutting her off.

  Gwyn knew better. She’d seen Connor’s face. Eyes wide. Feet itching to run away from whatever it was that scared him.

  The dark perhaps? Being alone in the dark?

  The emergency lights came on, casting their red-tinted beams over the crowds, and Gwyn jumped to her feet, anxious to get to Connor and sure that he’d be a crying mess of kid by now.

  It was worse.

  The little boy was gone.

  Chapter 2

  E ven as chaos erupted around him, Detective Nick Linton willed his heartbeat to slow and
his muscles to remain loose. He’d spent all day sitting at the Bellevue Mall, waiting for the Christmas Bandits to strike. Now was not the time to lose it.

  The Christmas Bandits…a cheerily, ironic name for a group of murderous thieves. But clever, he reminded himself. Tricky as hell, they had followed the same modus operandi for the past several years. They’d hit a well-known mall jewelry store on Christmas Eve, leave without detection and then disappear.

  When they popped back onto the radar, it would be in the Pacific Northwest but in a different city, a different state and a different chain of stores that specialized in diamonds.

  No one had connected the dots and figured out the different hits were made by the same people until last year when they left behind the store clerk and the cop that tried to save him. Both dead.

  It was disturbing enough when a civilian was killed, but when one of their own was murdered it became personal. Soon the investigation uncovered the truth. Now, thanks to a chatty informant, here he was. Not that it mattered now.

  Not when a child was missing.

  Tuning out both Gwyn and the panicked shouts from the shoppers, Nick scrutinized the scene. Cops dressed as elves worked the crowd to control the stampede toward the exits. Good. Peering past the chaos and into the shadows, he searched for signs of abduction. Nothing suspicious came into view. No child being dragged against his will. No blond-haired boy lying limp in someone’s arms. Nothing.

  He stretched his fingers, releasing some of the mounting tension and grabbed the police-issue walkie-talkie from behind the Santa chair. “We have a possible abduction. I want all exits shut except the south one. Over.”

  “You got it. Out.”

  “Where’s Connor?” The woman waiting in line with Gwyn—Nick guessed a sibling since they looked and dressed too much alike to be anything else—hurried up the stairs, trailed by three children.