CHAPTER TWO

      Still seven days before Christmas…

      SHE came to him again, all silk and sweetness and heady feminine perfume. Her hazel eyes were alight with laughter, laughter echoed in the eager, honeyed tones of her voice. Her enthusiasm knew no bounds—whether it was for a soft purple crocus pushing through its cap of snow, or for the spread of gourmet food he’d picked up in town, or simply for his touch. Everything brought her joy. And she returned that joy with her every act and deed.

      She ate with gusto, spoke with vibrant enthusiasm, made love with unstinting generosity. He could see her more clearly now than in his previous dreams. She stood in a shaft of moonlight, caped in a satin cloak of pale strawberry hair, her nudity silvered with moonlight. She held out her arms in welcome, calling to him with her siren’s song.

      He was helpless to resist. He wanted her. Needed her.

      Took her.

      “Alessandro…? Nick? Nicky! Where are you?”

      The woman’s cry startled Alessandro and the boy he held. Reacting with impressive speed, he recovered his balance before they both toppled to the floor. “Easy,” he reassured the woman, his words sleep roughened. He climbed from the chair and approached. “I have him over here.”

      She stood in front of the scattered quilts, trembling. “I’m sorry.” She thrust a hand through her hair and tousling the short, silky strands into further disorder. “It’s gotten so dark, I didn’t see you. I just saw… Saw…”

      “Saw the empty blankets and thought—Nicky, is it?”

      “Nick. I should call him Nick. Nicky’s a baby’s name and he’s not…” He heard the tears in her voice, heard, too, the quick, shallow give-and-take of her breath. “He’s not much of a baby anymore.”

      Something about the intensity of her turmoil urged him to drag her into his arms and comfort her in all the ways a man best comforted a woman. No doubt it had something to do with her fear or perhaps the pervasive femininity that cloaked her. It drew him as nothing else could. But that option wasn’t available to him. So instead, he pitched his voice to soothe. “You saw the empty blankets and thought Nick had wandered off.”

      “Yes. It scared me.”

      Alessandro set the boy on the floor. With a gleeful cry, he toddled to the woman, flinging himself against her legs. She applauded his efforts with an uneven laugh and swung him into her arms, hugging him tight. He returned the hug with enthusiasm, bursting into an incomprehensive stream of baby babble. Alessandro suppressed a grin. For such a little guy, he had a ridiculously deep voice, the sound not much more than a gruff rumble. Even though there wasn’t a single recognizable word, the woman gave Nick her full attention until he finally ran dry. Finished relaying his information, he aimed a wet kiss at her mouth and then squirmed in her arms for release.

      She obediently put him down before glancing at Alessandro. He found the wealth of unsuppressed emotion almost painful to observe. “Thank you for watching him.”

      He shrugged, doing his best to ease her distress with an air of calm. He’d often found it worked best with his own family. They all had the regrettable tendency to respond with fiery passion to every situation, regardless of whether the development was a crisis or cause for celebration. He’d learned as a child that being the rock in the midst of the storm helped anchor everyone else. As he grew, his height and breadth only added to the image of strength and control.

      “I don’t know how much watching I did,” he said. “Apparently Nick decided he hadn’t gotten enough sleep the first time ’round. So I offered to join him when he settled down for a second nap.”

      “I didn’t hear him wake. I don’t understand it.” She dropped to her knees, folding the handmade quilts with swift, jerky movements at odds with her earlier gracefulness. “I kept him close so I’d hear.”

      “You were sound asleep when I came back with the coffee. I decided not to disturb you when he woke, and fortunately, Nick proved cooperative.” Alessandro flipped on the overhead lights, driving the dusky shadows from the darkened room, and crossed to revive the dying fire. “You looked like you needed your sleep.”

      She confirmed his guess with an abrupt nod. “I was on the road most of the night.”

      Removing the fireplace screen, he tossed a couple of logs onto the grate. “Why was that?”

      She started to answer, hesitating at the last minute. He suspected she’d rather not explain, but after a moment’s consideration, she shrugged. “You might as well know the truth.” Digging in her pocket she pulled a wad of crumpled bills and a handful of change. She set it on the table next to the two mugs of cold coffee, smoothing each bill with great precision. “That’s every last penny I have to my name.”

      Alessandro winced. Replacing the fire screen, he rocked back on his heels and did a swift, silent count. Not good. At most she had a whole twenty-five bucks heaped there. “Kind of tough to get a car repaired with that. Not to mention putting a roof over your head and food on your table.”

      Nick toddled over to examine the money and she scooped it up, returning it to her pocket. “I’m not afraid of hard work. I suspect I can clean rooms in exchange for a place to stay.”

      “Not likely.” No doubt that was one of the ways she’d worked her way from North Carolina to California. Too bad it wouldn’t work here. Giving himself time to think, he crossed to a closet on the far side of the room and opened the door. Spying the box he wanted, he dragged it out and presented it to Nick. The boy took one look at the overflowing carton of toys and crowed in delight. “Have at it, kid. My treat.”

      The woman laughed in amazement. “Goodness gracious! That’s more toys than he’s seen in all his born days. Come to think of it, it’s more toys than I’ve ever seen.”

      Alessandro grinned. “You saw my family photo. With all those kids, we keep the cabin well-supplied with playthings. I think the general consensus was better safe than sorry.”

      “It must make a nice treat for them. I’ll bet they love coming here. Though your idea of a cabin and mine are somewhat different. Where I come from a cabin is a whole lot smaller and rougher. No more than a one or two room affair.” Her gaze swept the cypress-trimmed cathedral ceiling. “Not a mansion like this.”

      “True. But cabin sounds so much more modest.”

      Her mouth curved into a quick smile which faded to an apprehensive frown. He could tell she’d just absorbed his earlier comment about the local motels. “You said…not likely. Why isn’t it likely that I can clean rooms in exchange for a place to stay?”

      “The motels in the area are booked solid between now and the New Year.”

      She stilled. “You neglected to mention that earlier.”

      “I thought I’d save the news until the tow truck showed up.” He crossed to the window and glanced outside. The storm hadn’t lessened any. Rather it had grown worse. A white lump remained in the middle of the driveway, its blanket of icy snow far thicker than it had been earlier. It didn’t come as any surprise to find Babe hadn’t been moved. “Though I doubt that tow’s going to happen. This storm hit harder than anyone anticipated.”

      “When do you think