"So who’s the hunk?” Noelle’s cousin Sue whispered from the side of her mouth while also smiling at Marnie Miller, who was doing a solo rendition of Carol of the Bells. The song didn’t work very well with her singing all the parts herself, and Noelle feared the woman was going to pass out from lack of oxygen before finishing the last ding-dong, but apparently nobody had the heart to tell their leader that.
“He’s your tenant,” Noelle said, not meeting her cousin’s eye. Hopefully Sue would leave it at that.
“And he’s your stud-mufffin.”
A deep throat-clearing told them they’d been overheard. “Actually, I prefer hunk. Stud-muffin sounds too baker-ish,” a male voice said.
Sue’s face pinkened and Noelle almost laughed. Mark did have a way of moving quietly, catching people unawares. It was probably a cop thing.
He appeared amused by her cousin’s assessment. “I’m Mark Santori,” he said. “And you have a lovely home. Thanks for letting me crash in on the celebration.”
Sue straightened her covers and smiled up at him. “You’re most welcome, I’m glad you joined us. Have you met my cousin, Noelle?” Sue’s eyebrows wagged up and down like a cartoon character’s. “She lives in Chicago and she’s single.”
Oh, God, how Noelle wished Marnie’s awful soprano voice would break the glass in the window and send a shard of it through her eyeball. Anything to escape the embarrassment of having her very pregnant cousin trying to pimp Noelle to a man whose underwear she’d been licking about twenty minutes ago.
“I’m afraid I won’t be around long enough to make any serious acquaintances, so we’ll just have to remain strangers,” Mark murmured, his voice so smooth and his tone so even, Noelle had to laugh. The guy was good, his subtle words obviously meant for her and her alone.
Sue looked confused, obviously seeing the spark between them, and probably wondering about Mark’s apparent rebuff. “Well, if you want someone to show you around town, you won’t find anyone more knowledgeable about Christmas than Noelle. Our great-great-grandfather founded it, after all.”
He nodded with interest, glancing across the bed at Noelle. “I guess that means you just love the holiday season, hmm?”
She smirked. “Oh, it’s the most wonderful time of the year, don’t you know.”
“I think I’ve heard that. Though, I personally prefer St. Patrick’s Day.”
Grinning, she admitted, “Me, too. Irish coffee.”
“Green beer.”
“Red-nosed Irishmen instead of rosy-cheeked North Polers.”
He shrugged. “But I think the leprechaun/elf thing is pretty evenly annoying.”
The two of them laughed together, both caught up in their own silliness, especially since they were being serenaded by a bunch of oversized elves. Not for the first time, Noelle mentally acknowledged how much she enjoyed this man’s wit. He was so easy to talk to, so easy to get along with. And so damned sexy she wanted to leap on him.
Looking at the other dozen or so females in the room, she acknowledged she wasn’t the only one who felt that way. Practically every other female in the place—young and single, or arthritic and marked with liver spots—was looking at him the same way. She couldn’t help stepping a little closer, staking her claim. At least for tonight. Because tonight was all she was going to have.
Sue continued to eye them speculatively until her attention was caught by the next of the Christmas Carolers soloists. A few others came over to gush over how beautiful Sue looked pregnant, and to ask a bunch of private, intimate questions that Sue either answered or evaded as she saw fit.
Once Mr. Stuart the banker began singing Adesté Fidéles, positively mangling the Latin lyrics, Noelle found herself standing in a quiet corner, with Mark right beside her.
“Is that really your old second grade teacher?” he asked, nodding toward a white-haired old woman on the other side of the room who was glaring the fear of God right into poor, fidgety Chuckie Green.
Noelle couldn’t suppress a sigh. “Mrs. Finkelstein. What did she say? Is she still telling the same old story about me pulling up my skirt to show everybody my pretty new Care Bears panties?”
“You wear Care Bears panties?” He shook his head mournfully. “Man, now I really wish we hadn’t been interrupted.”
Smirking, she replied, “Oh, yeah, well, you really missed out on something special.”
His frown deepened. “Don’t I know it.”
Mark sounded very serious now, as if he, too, had been unable to completely put the intense moments they’d shared in her room completely out of his mind. If the Carolers hadn’t shown up, they would probably right now be in the middle of something hot and crazy, and maybe even illegal in some states. Noelle’s pulse sped up a bit, just at the thought.
“You know, my curiosity is going to kill me if we don’t get out of here soon,” he murmured, still watching the carolers, who’d regrouped for another big chorus number.
“Curiosity?”
“Well, yeah.” He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, still leaning in nonchalance against the wall. “I mean, Cheer Bear had the rainbow on her tummy, and Grumpy had the rain cloud.” A tiny smile tugged at his lips. “I’d really like to know what was on Horny Bear’s.”
