Seducing Santa

  Seducing Santa

  Copyright © December 2009, Dahlia Rose

  Cover art by Amira Press © December 2009

  Amira Press

  Baltimore, MD21216

  www.amirapress.com

  ISBN: 978-1-935348-86-3

  No part of this e-book may be reproduced or shared by any electronic or mechanical means, including but not limited to printing, file sharing, and e-mail, without prior written permission from Amira Press.

  Chapter One

  Nicholas sat in front of the big stone fireplace that warmed his home in the North Pole. Instead of toys and Christmas delights lining his wall, contemporary art, books and CDs were there. Loud holiday music did not play all around him. No, the smooth tones of U2 mellowed his thoughts. He thought about throwing in a Three Doors Down or a Sean Paul CD later on to jam out to if the mood struck him. But for now, he was just content to sit in his leather recliner, drink a Jack Daniels over ice, and stare into the fire.

  Soon he would be too busy until after Christmas Eve, so he would enjoy the peace while he could. It was one week until he made his usual rounds across the world, and everyone at the North Pole was already in a flutter, his parents, his workers. All he felt was kind of blah about the whole thing. Usually, he was filled with excitement. The winter and the holiday cheer gave him a buzz He should be excited, but this season was different. This year, he just felt as if it was a job, and that was not good.

  Nicholas sighed and took a sip of his amber drink. He knew that if his mother and father walked at the moment, he would hear it. “Be cheerful, Nicholas. This is why you are charged with this task.” He was the fifth son of the Viking god Odin, who was married to his third wife and his mother Joko. To the supernatural realm of gods and goddesses, elves, fairies, and other magical folk, he was known by his real name Christkindl. To the entire world and the children who waited for him on Christmas Eve, he was Santa Claus.

  He smiled as he thought of his other persona. A jolly fat man who delivered gifts, and that is what the few children who saw him would see. His magic let him change form to suit the job he had had since the beginning of time. But when he looked in the mirror, that was not the man who looked back at him. Parents would not let their children take presents from a man who never aged past thirty-five.

  Nope they would probably try to tazer him and call the cops about an intruder. He chuckled at the thought, but that laughter was soon gone. He was bored. That was the only conclusion he could come to. He had spent the year reforming his Santa Claus operation. No more naughty-or-nice list. He hated that. Nicholas knew that children reacted to the situations they were in, and some were just not naughty. He wanted to go case by case to see who he would be visit in his jovial guise instead of just lumping them into one category.

  Of course, this idea was met by disdain by the VPs of Santa, Inc. They owned a majority of the big toy conglomerates that cleaned up at Christmas time, so they were looking at overhead costs of providing more gifts. His father had come up with the idea of banding with mortal companies. They would provide most of the toys and cut down on overworked elves. The elves were working twenty-four hour days every year to catch up with toy demands, and as mortals progressed, elves thought wooden toys and stuffed bears were the way to go. But as usual, the greed of men wanted a piece of the pie, so Santa, Inc. was formed. They would provide the toys, elves would wrap and label, and Santa would deliver. In return, big business would get one wish a year from the fairy realm. And what did they wish for? More money.

  Greedy bastards. Nicholas frowned. They wanted more, more, more, but were always willing to give less. After a long battle, his father had overruled them and given Nicholas leave to do as he pleased. No one argued with Odin, and no one sure as hell never argued with his son.

  “I need a vacation before this madness begins,” he muttered and stood. The idea seemed better and better as he thought about it. He snapped his fingers, and his head elf appeared in his living room. Obviously, he had awakened his oldest friend because he was dressed in a night shirt and barefoot.

  “Horace, I’m going out!” Nicholas announced.

  “And you wake me to tell me this for what reason?” The elf grumbled and waved him off. “Send me back to bed, and go out. I don’t care!”

  “You don’t understand, Horace. I am going on a small vacation before the Eve comes. I need you to hold down the fort.” Nicholas grinned and opened a closet. He pulled out a duffel bag and began using his magic to throw clothes inside it.

  “How long is a small vacation?” Horace asked with suspicion in his voice.

  “I’ll be back by Christmas Eve night.” Nicholas’s answer was casual to the point of indifference.

  ‘Have you taken leave of your senses?” Horace screeched. Nicholas grimaced at the noise. “Your father will have my head if he finds out I’m covering for you, and do you know how much we have to do?”

  Nicholas got down to his knees so he was eye level with his friend. “Listen, Horace. I’m going crazy here. It doesn’t feel the same this year. I need some pep in my step, so I am heading out for a few days. Come on, how can it hurt?” He stood up again and mused, “Someplace warm so I can tan and a beach. Horace, my man, I’m heading to the Caribbean!”

  Horace stood sputtering as Nicholas snapped his fingers to change his clothes. Instead of the velvet robe and satin pajama pants he wore before, he now wore jeans and a black T-shirt.

  “Don’t worry, my friend. I’ll be back in time ready for the worldwide trip of Christmas Eve.” Nicholas grinned as he pulled sunglasses down to cover his eyes.

  “Nicky, wait!”

  He heard as his friend called him by the nickname of long ago, and that made him leave all the faster. Nicholas knew he had to get away for his own sanity. He just had to. So he left Horace in the middle of his living room screeching his name and phased his way to warm sand and sunny skies. Trinidad, here I come!

  * * * *

  A few hours later, Nicholas sat on the beach and sighed in contentment. He had used his powers and sent himself reeling through time and space to Castara beach on the Trinidadian coast. The trade winds blowing across the ocean brought the smell of the sea to his nose. The sunrays chased the cold and frost from him, and he felt like a new man. Instead of a Jack and Coke, now he had a coconut in his hand, and he took a sip of the sweet frothy drink. He didn’t know what it was, but hell it had rum in it, and that was all that mattered.

  The music spilling across the beach from various beach bars and hotels was Christmas tunes blended with Soca music. It gave the same old songs a beat that everyone could dance to. And they did. Nicholas watched up and down the beach as revelers enjoyed Christmas holiday in the sun, dancing, playing, and swimming. It just went to show that regardless of if they were—in the middle of snow or making castles in the sand, everyone had the holiday spirit flowing through them. Some more than others, Nicholas thought with a grin as one tourist came cavorting down the beach singing at the top of his voice. He’s filled with two kinds of spirit, and one was a hundred proof. Nicholas leaned back and sighed in contentment. This was living, and he decided then and there to take a vacation every year.

  “Hey, will you help me here for one second?” A woman’s voice met his ears, and Nicholas paid it no mind thinking the person meant someone else. “Hey, guy with the expensive sunglasses, a little help here please!”

  “Okay, she meant me,” Nicholas murmured. He pulled his sunglasses up to his forehead and looked out in front of him.

  There stood a Nubian goddess straight out of the many books he had read over the expanse of time. Her hair was wet and hung in dark curls down her back. Dark eyes stared out at him with a mix of irritation and frustration from an oval face. Her lips w
ere soft, and the bottom lip pouted all on its own, causing him to want to kiss them to see what she tasted like. But nothing could compare to her skin. It seemed to glow as the sun’s rays kissed it a dark bronze color. This was a woman, and Nicholas felt the stirring of desire deep within him. Sand clung to her skin, and he found himself wishing he were every single grain that was stuck against her skin.

  “So are you going to stare all day or help me with this thing?” The soft lilt of her voice brought him back to the present. He noticed she had a rope wrapped around her hand keeping a Jet Ski in the shallow surf.

  “Of course. I’m sorry. I, um . . . got distracted.” Nicholas threw her a charming smile, and she in turn rolled her eyes.

  Together, they pulled the water machine into the soft sand. As soon as they did, the attractive beauty was on her knees. She lifted the seat and proceeded to mess with the its mechanics.

  “Should you be doing that?” Nicholas asked. Worry filled him as he watched her tinker with the machine.

  “Who else is going to do it?” Her voice held the sweetness of a lemon. Nicholas winced at the tone. “The idiot tourists who rented from me and proceeded to get water into the lines, and when it stalled, they bailed and left it in the ocean and went on board their cruise ship to drink some more?”

  “Okay, I guess you do know what you are doing,” Nicholas commented. “Can I do anything to help?’

  “Stay outta my way,” she muttered. Nicholas stared down at her until she looked up at him. She sighed all of a sudden and stood up wiping her hands on her very short shorts. “I’m sorry for being rude. This time of year is not my favorite. Thanks for helping me.”

  ‘You’re welcome . . .” Nicholas left the sentence open hoping for a name to be added on.

  She obliged him. “Neeva Monroe.

  Nicholas held out his hand to take hers in a handshake. “Nicholas Kringle.”

  She smiled when she heard his name. “Well, that name is one for the books. Isn’t that Santa Claus’s real name?”

  “One of many. I should know. I am the one and only.” Nicholas bowed low. When he looked at her again, she was staring at him with her mouth open.

  “So you’re telling me you are the old fat guy who delivers presents on Christmas Eve?” Neeva asked with skepticism in every word.

  “That’s only one form I can take,” Nicholas explained with ease.

  “Uh-huh and you are here on a beach a few days before Christmas because . . .”

  “Because I was burned out a little bit, so I jetted away for a while. I have my best guys on the job.” He grinned as her mouth dropped open.

  “Okay, and here I was thinking you were at least one normal sober tourist on this island for Christmas. It’s obvious I was wrong, and you’re nuts to boot,” Neeva said. “Well, see ya, and I hope you sober up okay.”

  “You don’t believe me?” Nicholas ran to catch up to her as she moved up the beach.

  “You thought I’d believe that you’re Santa Claus looking like you just stepped out of a model magazine onto our beach?” Neeva asked. Skepticism laced her every word. “Do you want to sell me the BrooklynBridge too?”

  Nicholas scratched his head. “I don’t own the BrooklynBridge. That thing freaks Rudolph out every year when he flies by it, so why would I want to sell it to you?”

  “You are a whack-a-doodle. Why are you telling this spiel of nonsense?” Neeva said. He could hear the amazement in her voice.

  “I love how you say nonsense. That accent is so sexy,” Nicholas replied with a smile. “I am telling you because I think I love you already, and we should never start a relationship with secrets.”

  “Listen, um, Nicholas, is it? You stay on that side of the sand, and I’ll stay over here. Thanks for the help.” Starting up the beach again, she threw a cautious gaze over her shoulder.

  “Aren’t you going to tell me Merry Christmas?” he called to her. His Nubian goddess, she would make a good Mrs. Claus.

  “What’s so merry about it? Leave me alone, Nicholas Kringle, or whoever you are!” She called behind her and then disappeared into a stand of palm trees that lined the beach.

  He stood and watched the sexy curve of her tush disappear. He would have only a few days to convince her to come home with him. Up to the day before Christmas Eve, he estimated. He would make a very long distance call to his mother and explain the situation. She would hold down the fort the best she could. She always told him that when he found the right one, his heart would know. If the flip-flops his heart was doing was not enough to let him know this girl on the beach was the one, Nicholas did not know what was. Neeva Monroe. Her name was now etched in his soul, and he would make her his own.

  Who would’ve thought it? He had left his home looking for a vacation and found so much more. Santa Claus was going back to the North Pole with a wife. The thought made him happy as he walked back down to the surf. With a shout of delight, he dove into the water.

  Chapter Two

  Of all the crazy . . . Neeva shook her head as she walked past the stand of coconut trees to the main road that stood between her house and the beach. She made sure no traffic was coming in either direction before she crossed the street to her front door. Nicholas Kringle. She thought the man was cute, blond hair neatly cut to his nape. He had a smooth jawline that free of a beard, was kind of rugged and sexy, and a quick charming smile that lit his ice blue eyes as well. Oh, she noticed it all before he began to spew all his nonsense about being Santa Claus. It never occurred to her that the handsome, blue-eyed devil could be actually coo coo for Cocoa Puffs.

  Neeva walked straight through her small house to the backyard shed where she kept her tools. It was hard sometimes, running a small rental and souvenir shop. Half the time, the tourists thought they could haggle with her about her prices, and then the half, they left her equipment mangled or derelict on the beach. It always seemed to be worse around the holidays, but then everything seemed worse at this particular time of year. Neeva felt the familiar sadness creep into her chest and squeeze her heart. She tried to push it back with no success, and it caused tears to fall from her eyes. No, I won’t give in to it. Not today! She swiped at her eyes and dug through the familiar tools she would need to make her Jet Ski workable again.

  Her thoughts went back to the blond guy claiming to be Santa Claus. She half hoped he would still be there when she returned, but then playing with the mentally ill was dangerous. She loaded up the small workbag next to her and headed back the way she had come. Before stepping out of the stand of coconut trees, she looked around to see if he was still there. She breathed a sigh of relief when he wasn’t. After walking to the Jet Ski, she knelt beside it and lifted the seat again and began to work on the engine. The sound of the sea breaking gently against the sand calmed her. To Neeva, it was better than any music that played all day. She worked with speed, borne from the knowledge of how the machine worked, and soon she had her equipment up and running.

  “Ho, ho, ho!”

  With a screech, Neeva dropped her socket wrench and whirled to see a grinning Nicholas behind her.

  “Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” Neeva stomped her foot in anger against the soft sand.

  “I would not damage a heart as sweet as yours,” Nicholas commented.

  “Oh shove it, Kringle. Why are you pestering me anyway?” She picked up the fallen tool from the sand. ‘You ask one guy for help pulling a Jet Ski on the sand, and he becomes a stalker.”

  “Can you blame me? You are just magnificent in your anger,” he replied. Neeva heard the charm oozing from his voice and snorted. “I brought you these.”

  Nicholas hand came from behind his back with a flourish. He held a red ceramic pot of the most beautiful orchids she had ever seen. Neeva could not help gasping with pure delight. She loved orchids. They were delicate and complex but had the simplest beauty anyone could imagine. She had never laid eyes on the colored flowers he held in his hands. Deep red petals burst from green s
tems. The edges were tinted with white, and she couldn’t help but to reach out her fingers to touch the delicate buds.

  “I take it you like them,” Nicholas asked, his voice gentle.

  She looked up at him, and those ice blue eyes were staring at her with such intensity, as if he was trying to look into the deepest recesses of her soul. Neeva pulled her hand away in a quick movement. ‘They’re okay.”

  “Oh no, no, no!” Nicholas laughed. “You like these. I am betting they are your favorite. Come on, admit it. Santa did good.”

  “You are not Santa!” Neeva stomped her foot again. “If you are Santa Claus, prove it.”

  Nicholas just kept smiling at her. “I could, but I’m not going to. You have to believe in the magic to see the magic.” He made a sad boyish face. “But here, these are for you even if you won’t admit that you like them. I guess I’ll just go throw these lovely orchids into the sea.”

  “No!” Neeva yelled, and then she sighed in the futility. “Fine, I like them okay? God, I’ve only known you for a couple of hours, and already you are the most infuriating man I have ever met.”