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A Soldier's Christmas: I'll Be Home for Christmas / Presents Under the Tree / If Only in My Dreams
A Soldier's Christmas: I'll Be Home for Christmas / Presents Under the Tree / If Only in My Dreams
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A Soldier's Christmas: I'll Be Home for Christmas / Presents Under the Tree / If Only in My Dreams

“Well?” she said, holding her hands up. They’d been standing there talking as dancing couples moved around them.

He hesitated, aware that taking her in his arms would simply cement his certainty that he’d made the biggest mistake of his life in letting her go.

The song fell somewhere between slow and fast. And this wasn’t the type of place for the arms-around-neck, hands-on-butt, bodies-crammed-together type of movement he was used to from the old days, when he’d done things like going to parties or clubs and finding a hot girl to hook up with.

Christ, those days seemed to belong to somebody else’s mental scrapbook. They were so far removed from the life he lived now.

Ellie, though? Ellie was connected to just about every good thought he’d had during the long, lonely, dangerous years he’d spent in a far-off land where everyone was either friend or enemy and there was often no real way of telling them apart until it was too damned late.

“I’m not the best dancer,” she said, as if noticing his hesitation and interpreting it as a lack of confidence in his dancing ability. Not in his own sanity at having shoved aside the one perfect relationship he’d ever had.

“You’re talking to the king of two left feet, remember?”

“I suppose you must’ve gotten more nimble.” Her smile was faint, but there was a searching concern in her pretty green eyes.

“I suppose.”

Yeah, he’d done some dancing in Iraq. Considering it seemed the entire country was mined, any soldier who wasn’t quick on his feet risked losing them.

He thrust off those thoughts. He only had the length of one song to build up a lifetime of memories with the woman he’d never been able to forget. And what he’d feel in those moments seemed worth any lingering regrets later.

He drew her close, resting one hand on her hip, the other twining with hers at their sides. They began to sway, and he found it easier than he’d figured. Maybe because he wasn’t concentrating on his feet or even on the music. Only on how it felt to finally be pressed against her soft body, remembering the first time he’d made love to her, in his crappy old apartment. They’d been insatiable, locked together, naked, hot and hungry...for hours. He’d buried himself inside her body, sure he’d never felt anything as good as being wrapped tightly in all that heat. He’d lost himself in her, and hadn’t ever wanted to find his way back out.

Now, looking down into those eyes, into that sweet, heart-shaped face, he lost himself again in those moments, as if the past four ugly years hadn’t even happened.

“I’m glad to see you, Ellie,” he murmured, meaning it. He couldn’t regret finding her, even if it meant coming face-to-face with the reality that he’d never be with her, that she really had moved on and fallen in love with another man. That she would wear someone else’s ring and have someone else’s babies.

Rings and babies hadn’t been on his mind when he’d left Chicago four years ago. War had. Fighting and adventure and adrenaline and patriotism. Living up to some standard of manhood that Hollywood and boasting friends said every guy should.

Tonight...holding her in his arms, knowing she’d never be there again—he didn’t think he would ever stop wondering if he’d made the wrong decision.

“I’m glad you’re all right,” she finally replied, her voice soft, hesitating, as if she was unsure what to say. Maybe she figured admitting she was glad to see him, too, would have been disloyal to her fiancé.

Her fiancé. His stomach churned at the word and every muscle in his body tensed.

He was envious of a man he’d never met, and would never meet. Envious of the years that man would have with Ellie, of the future they’d build. Jealous as hell of the nights they’d sleep side by side and the mornings they’d wake up bathed in sunlight as they listened for the little footsteps of their children.

Around them, the voices of the crowd began to swell. The announcer was saying something, the band had segued from smooth jazz into a raucous celebration. He faintly heard someone calling off the numbers, counting down from ten. The revelers were ticking off another year, consigning to the past everything that had come before this particular minute in time.

He and Ellie stopped dancing, remaining very still in the middle of the floor, staring at each other. He saw so much in those aquamarine eyes—from love to anger to fear to longing—that part of him wished he’d left her alone, just walked away when she’d told him there was someone else.

“Happy New Year!”

Voices rang out, happy shouts, and the band began to play “Auld Lang Syne.” All around them, couples stopped to kiss in the New Year, expressing hope for a wonderful, happy future.

This was the end of all he and Ellie had ever been and all they would ever be. He’d never see her again after tonight.

He had to say goodbye forever.

So without asking, without warning, he bent and brushed his lips across hers in a kiss as tender as it was fleeting. Then, his face close to hers, he whispered, “Happy New Year, Ellie. I wish you nothing but happiness.”

Watching her through eyes that might have held the tiniest hint of moisture—though he’d deny it with his dying breath—he began to back away, melting into the throng. She watched him go, step by step, not lifting a hand to stop him, even though her tears said a part of her wanted to.

But it was too late. Far too late. You couldn’t go back to the past. Couldn’t recapture something that you’d intentionally let slip away.

All that was left for both of them to do was move on.

Without each other.

2

Present Day

“ARE YOU TELLING ME there is not one single flight leaving from this city today?”

Ellie Blake stared at the clerk behind the airline counter, who appeared as exhausted and frazzled as the streams of irritated travelers swarming around her. People yelled from farther back in the line, angry travelers vented their frustrations on their cell phones, babies cried in strollers and fights seemed ready to break out at other stations.

Acknowledging this wasn’t the woman’s fault, Ellie tempered her disappointment and added, “I’m sorry, I realize you don’t control the weather. But isn’t it possible some airline is still getting out of here? Send me south, send me anywhere. I’ll fly to Florida and change planes to get to Chicago by tomorrow.”

Tomorrow. Christmas Eve.

She had to be home. Damn it, she just had to. She couldn’t bear to miss the baby’s first Christmas.

Plus Denny would be all smug because he’d warned her she shouldn’t risk traveling so close to the holiday.

“I’m terribly sorry, ma’am. Every person here feels exactly the same way,” the woman said. “But the winds are just too severe, and with blizzard conditions expected later tonight, all the airlines are canceling flights.”

Why on earth did this have to happen now? Why did a major winter storm have to hit New York City the very day she was supposed to fly home to Chicago?

She should never have come here for the conference on new surgical trends for canines. She shouldn’t have risked traveling right before the holidays with, not only Denny and Jessie, but also her sister, her parents and her friends also waiting for her back home. She’d never missed a Christmas in Chicago, not even when she’d left the country to volunteer at a wild animal preserve in Africa two years ago. She’d been gone almost an entire year, yet she’d still managed to be there with her family, drinking eggnog at midnight on Christmas Eve and waking up the next morning to an orgy of presents and goodwill.

“I wonder if I could catch a train?” she mused, speaking more to herself than to the airline clerk.

“The lines are already shut down. The tracks are freezing up; it’s much too dangerous.”

Ellie swiped a frustrated hand through her hair, knocking loose the ponytail that had begun to give her a headache. Actually, the whole afternoon had given her a headache. She’d arrived at the airport early this morning, having watched the weather reports and gotten the warnings that travel would be difficult today. Only to be told her flight had been canceled and the airport was going to close altogether within a couple of hours.

“I gave up my hotel room and there’s no way I’ll get another one. Great way to spend Christmas—on the floor of JFK.”

“You’ll have a lot of company,” the woman said unhelpfully.

“I can’t believe I’m not going to make it home for the baby’s first Christmas,” she whispered, imagining the disappointment she’d be sure to see in Denny’s face and, of course, in Jessie’s. The new parents had been planning for ten-month-old Annie’s first holiday with all the fervor of elves training for sleigh duty, and as the child’s godmother, she’d fully intended to spoil the baby rotten.

Funny that she should be so anxious not to disappoint her ex-fiancé and her best friend, who’d realized during Ellie’s own engagement that they were far too attracted to each other. Ellie was sure they hadn’t betrayed her; they both cared far too much about her for that. But she wasn’t blind; she recognized serious attraction when she saw it. What Jessie had with Denny was something Ellie’d never shared with her fiancé.

And after Rafe had shocked her with that New Year’s Eve visit, she hadn’t been very successful at hiding the fact that she still cared far too much about her ex. It hadn’t been fair to Denny to be angry about his obvious feelings for Jessie when Ellie had been a little less than subtle about her own for Rafe.

So she’d let Denny go, gracefully, calmly, and had been right there in the front pew when her ex-fiancé and best friend had gotten married the very same month Ellie and Denny had intended to say “I do.”

The woman reached over and patted her hand, as if hearing the genuine misery in Ellie’s voice. Or maybe it was the mention of a baby. Ellie didn’t point out that it wasn’t her own child’s holiday she’d be missing; right now, she’d take whatever help she could get.

“Listen, you may not have any luck at this point, but a lot of people have gone to the car-rental counters hoping to get an SUV or something so they can drive out of the city ahead of the worst of the storm.”

Hope blossomed in her chest. Yes, it was a long way from New York to Chicago. But if she got on the road within the next hour or so, she should, indeed, be able to get ahead of the storm. Driving through the night, she ought to be able to find clear roads all the way home and arrive by tomorrow afternoon at the latest.

It was worth a try, anyway.

“Thank you so much,” she said, meaning it. “I’ll go there right away.” She glanced at the queue behind her, which had edged closer and closer as people pushed for their chance to hear the same bad news in person. “And good luck tonight. I hope you make it home to your family for Christmas.”

Hurrying away, she followed the signs through the terminal, searching for the car-rental area. As she came down the escalator and saw it, she also saw that the lines were probably at least double what they were upstairs.

Hell.

There weren’t enough SUVs in all of Manhattan to service this many people. Or even standard rental cars. Still, she wasn’t going to give up yet.

Heading for the counter that she gauged to have the shortest line, she didn’t notice that someone had stepped into her path. Not until she came within a step of walking right into a broad, camouflage-wearing chest.

“Ellie? Is it really you?”

That voice. Oh, God in heaven. Could this really be happening?

She looked up and saw The Face.

What did they say about déjà vu all over again? How many times in her life was she destined to run into this man at a moment and in a place where she least expected him?

It was Rafe. Older—pale, visibly exhausted—but still so handsome her heart forgot to beat and her brain cells began to leap and spark. He was dressed in rumpled fatigues and appeared unshaven, with eyes that were faintly bloodshot and a few fresh scars that immediately carved themselves into her soul.

“It is you.”

“Hello, Rafe.”

“I can’t believe it.”

“Ditto.”

“Small world, huh?”

“Very.”

“What are you doing here? You don’t live in New York now, do you?”

She shook her head. “No, I was here for a conference. I was supposed to fly home this afternoon, but that didn’t work out too well.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Are you stranded, too?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m heading over to that rental counter to try to get a vehicle capable of getting me back to Chicago.”

He glanced over and slowly began to shake his head. “I’m sorry, you’re not going to have any luck.”

She frowned. “How do you know that?”

“I just came from there. That was the last counter I tried...and they just rented me their very last vehicle. It wasn’t even supposed to be rented in this weather, but the company apparently likes to help soldiers out, so they let me have it.”

That was great for him. But not for her.

“I’m not sure if it’s capable of getting me home for Christmas, but I’m damn sure going to give it my best shot.”

Uncertain, she glanced up at him, hearing something in his voice, something that both excited and confused her.

An invitation, perhaps?

He made it clear. “Want a lift?”

She gulped, swallowing so hard her throat wobbled. “Are you serious?”

He nodded, that intense, dark-eyed gaze never leaving her face. Her heart twisted as she noted the circles beneath those eyes, the almost bony leanness of his cheeks, the stubble, the scars, the...the sadness. There was no other word for it.

If Rafe had appeared weary the last time she’d seen him, after he’d been in the military for four years, now, after seven, he seemed almost broken. As if he’d been to the edge of the world, witnessed the worst it had to offer and only barely managed to crawl his way back toward sanity and civilization.

Of course, she wasn’t entirely sure you could call the day before Christmas Eve at a snowed-in airport either sane or civilized. Still, it had to be better than where he’d been living.

Outwardly, she maintained her poise, but deep inside, she wept for him, for what he’d seen and what he’d done and what he’d missed.

What they’d missed.

Damn it, how could he always affect her this way?

“What do you say, El?” he asked.

“You’re seriously going to drive all the way to Chicago?”

A faint grin widened that sexy mouth, but it didn’t seem entirely natural, as if he wasn’t used to smiling much anymore. “I haven’t been home for Christmas in three years—since the last we ran into each other. I promised my folks I’d be there this Christmas, and I intend to keep that promise.”

He shifted his heavy pack from one powerful shoulder to the other, and she couldn’t help appreciating the way the soft fabric of his fatigues hugged every ridge of muscle, from flexing arms down to thick, strong legs. He might be tired and careworn, but oh, God, was he still hot. The most masculine man she’d ever seen in her life.

This is not a good idea.

Being closed up in a car with him as they drove halfway across the country? It could take a whole day to reach their destination, and that was if they were lucky and got ahead of the worst weather. And every minute of the trip, she’d be trapped in a confined space with the one man she’d never been able to forget—the one whose very memory had cost her so much and had made her so drastically alter her plans for her life.

Could she really put herself through it?

“Come on, El. I could use the second pair of eyes, not to mention the company to keep me awake. Coffee might not cut it. I’ve been traveling for almost forty hours.”

“Couldn’t get them to fly you those last three, huh?”

“Don’t I wish. Military transport got me all the way from Kabul. I never imagined a bunch of damned snowflakes would stop me from getting the last eight hundred miles home.”

“Me, neither.”

“So, are you in?”

Another pause, another second to realize she would be making a huge mistake. But then there was one more thing. One more crazy thought whizzing through her head.

Maybe this was, instead, the luckiest moment of her life. It could be the chance she’d been waiting for...the one she’d feared she’d never have again.

The chance to discover if, after all these years, after time and distance and other relationships, she and Rafe Santori really were meant to be together after all.

She’d have to protect her heart from making the same old mistakes. She couldn’t let her guard down right away. For all she knew, he had moved on, had totally forgotten about her. Maybe he’d even changed and was no longer the tender, noble man she’d once loved. War could certainly alter people. So it wouldn’t do to let him get too close, too quickly. She had to keep up some walls, had to be cautious and go slowly. Mostly she had to avoid falling hard and fast and irrevocably in love with the man again.

Until she figured out whether she could trust her feelings for him, her heart was under lock and key. And the future remained as uncertain and elusive as it had since the day they’d said goodbye all those years ago when he’d gone off to war.

But for the first time since that New Year’s Eve three years ago, she began to feel something that resembled hope. Hope for a future she’d been absolutely certain was forever lost to her.

“Okay, Rafe,” she finally said. “I’m in.”

* * *

RAFE WASN’T SURE what he had been thinking to offer Ellie a ride to Chicago. He’d never been a masochist, never enjoyed testing himself with pain the way some of his fellow soldiers did. So why on earth would he inflict emotional torture on himself for a good eighteen hours? Because sitting in this small car—they called it a subcompact, but considering the way it skidded and slid all over the damned highway, it should have been called a sleigh—with her for eight hundred miles was sure to be torturous.

You can’t abandon her in an airport so far from home. Not on Christmas.

Maybe not. But did he really have to suggest she ride with him? The last time he’d seen her, Ellie had been engaged and happy, planning her September wedding with her nice-guy fiancé. Rafe had spent the past three years picturing her at that wedding, dressed in white lace, smiling and joyous. He’d tormented himself with mental images of her and her perfect, nice husband. Had mentally seen her painting their house in the burbs, adding a nursery when she became round and pregnant.

He had kicked himself whenever he let his imagination go down that road. But in the darkest nights, when he was bone tired and missing life in the States so bad he swore he’d go crazy if he had to inhale another mouthful of sand, she was all he thought about.

Conjuring up a vision of Ellie always brought him coolness, quiet, comfort. Which was really funny, considering he’d always been so hot for her. Like, seriously, couldn’t-keep-his-hands-off-her hot for her, when they had first gotten together.

He still was. Of that, there was no doubt. Just sitting in the car with her, hearing her tiny gasps whenever they hit a particularly icy patch of road, or her soft sighs when they found a smooth stretch, was agony. Watching the dashboard lights play across her beautiful face, physically pained him. He wanted her so badly he would be willing to drive the rental into the nearest snow bank if only he could pull her over onto his lap and kiss her until the taste and feel of her mouth were imprinted on every cell of memory he owned.

She was lovelier than ever, if that was even possible. Marriage apparently agreed with her. Gone was the girlish roundness to her face. Those blue-green eyes seemed bigger than before, her lush mouth more mature and so much more alluring. Her body was all curve and slope, begging for a man’s hands and mouth. His hands and mouth.

No. She’s off-limits.

He might have done some things he wasn’t proud of in his life, but he had his own code. And stealing another man’s wife was strictly forbidden.

“It’s going to be a very long night, isn’t it?” she mumbled as he spotted a patch of black ice just a second before it was too late to ease off the gas to avoid fishtailing all over the road. Get your head in the damn game, man.

“Yeah.” He sighed heavily, reaching for the foam coffee cup in the holder next to his seat. The coffee was cold; they’d grabbed it on the way out of the airport. Since then, they’d driven for four hours but hadn’t even made it out of New Jersey. At this rate, the bloody blizzard would be ahead of them by the time they got to Pennsylvania.

“I’d be happy to drive. I don’t imagine you’ve had much snow-driving experience lately.”

“You might be surprised.”

“But you’ve been in Afghanistan, haven’t you?”

“It gets cold as hell in some parts of the country in the winter. And hotter than Satan’s frying pan in the summer.”

She shuddered in distaste. “I can’t wait for you to get out of there for good.”

Finally a subject he could smile about. “It’s done.”

“What?”

“That’s why I’m so anxious to get home to Chicago. My Christmas present is telling the family that I’ve finally rotated out of active duty. My last year in the rangers will be spent training recruits, stateside.”

God knew he’d earned it. His visits home over the past seven years had been few and far between, every rotation out of a hot zone quickly rescinded when violence flared up again. But this time, it was official, signed and sealed. He was to report to Benning after the first of the year. One year in Georgia, then he’d be free to return to his real life.

What his real life was, he had no idea. He just knew it would include home and family. Maybe not the one he’d once dreamed of having, considering the woman beside him was married to another man. But he couldn’t deny he was looking forward to being a Santori again, rather than a captain in the rangers.

“I can’t believe it. I’m so happy for you...and for your family. This will be the best Christmas present your parents could have asked for.”

“It’s the best one I’ve ever gotten, believe me.”

“I see them sometimes, you know.”

“My parents?” He glanced over, surprised. Although they’d only been together a few months, he’d brought her around the clan enough to show them she’d really meant something to him. Funny that none of his family’s letters or emails had hinted that they’d seen her.

Maybe because the family was big on fidelity. She was a married woman now. He needed to keep reminding himself of that.

It could also be because all anybody wanted to talk about lately was the fact that Leo was going to be a father. His kid brother apparently had a new fiancée and a baby on the way. Their mother might be big on marriage and fidelity, but she was out of her mind with excitement over being a grandmother. She wasn’t complaining one bit about the fact that Leo hadn’t yet wed this Madison woman he’d met just a few months ago.

Leo, married. And a father. He had a hard time imagining it. Of course, considering Leo’d had a near miss when he’d almost married a barracuda last year, Rafe could only imagine he was going to love Madison...if only because she wasn’t Leo’s ex.

“My place isn’t far from your cousin Tony’s restaurant,” Ellie was saying. “I get carryout from there all the time.”

Son of a bitch. And Tony had never said a word.

“You and your...husband, do you go in there a lot?”

She opened her mouth to answer, but before she could say anything, the tires hit a slick spot and the car began to slide.

“Damn it,” he snarled. Gripping the wheel in his clenched hands, he steered into the skid, not fighting it and not braking, knowing that would send them spinning wildly. The road might be nearly deserted, but the guardrails wouldn’t do much to keep them from going down a steep embankment on one side if they drifted too close to it.