The Naughty List Bundle with The Night Before Christmas & Yule Be Mine. Fern Michaels

I already knew.

      “As far as I know, he’s never told anyone but me,” he said.

      Her temper began to boil. It had really been one hell of a night. The break-in. The fight between Jonas and Daniel. Finding out her ex might be gunning for her. “He told you because he trusts you, Daniel. You’re friends, remember? Even if you’re acting like a jerk, he still sees you as his friend.”

      His gaze held hers. “I’m sorry,” he said softly, slowly.

      “Don’t tell me,” she muttered. “Tell him.”

      The doorbell rang then. A long, echoing peal of sound, and Christie couldn’t help it—her heart started to race.

      Then a few moments later, Jonas walked into the room, and her heart nearly jumped out of her chest. His hair was swept back, and the leather coat stretched across his shoulders. He stopped when he saw the packed table. The spread of food. All those relatives.

      She stood up, shoving her chair back. “Jonas!” She couldn’t stop the wide smile that lifted her lips.

      He smiled back at her. A hesitant curl of his mouth that made the man look even sexier.

      Daniel rose, too. “Come on over here, man,” he called over the din of voices. “We’ve got you a seat waiting.” Daniel’s hand squeezed Christie’s shoulder.

      Her brother really could be a good man. He just sold himself short too much.

      Jonas came around the table, his steps a bit slow. The bulge of his weapon was gone. He’d been armed when he met her at Tate Toys. He’d been a cop then. Now, he was coming to dinner just as a man. Her date. Christie took his hand and pulled him down beside her.

      Just sex? Who was she kidding?

      “Glad to see you, Jonas,” her mother told him, flashing her dimpled smile.

      “Son, we’ve got plenty to eat,” her dad said, waving his hand over the table.

      Jonas blinked and shot her a questioning glance.

      She caught his hand beneath the table. “It’s Christmas,” she told him. “And you’ve been welcome here with my family for years.” But finally, finally, he’d come to celebrate with them.

      His fingers tightened around hers.

      She had to swallow the lump that rose in her throat. Daniel leaned forward and said bluntly, “Sorry for being a dick.”

      To which her mother immediately shouted, “Oh, Lord, language! Don’t let Grandma Addie hear that kind of talk!”

      “Too late!” came Addie’s ninety-three-year-old cackle, because she loved that kind of talk. Her husband of seventy years had been a sailor.

      When Daniel winced, Jonas laughed. His head tilted back, and a deep rumble of laughter shook his chest.

      Christie stared at him, speechless, lost. So lost—in him.

      Right then, she knew exactly what she wanted for the holidays. Not just sex. Not fleeting pleasure. Him.

      Too bad she couldn’t have what she wanted.

      Jonas followed her home. Kept her taillights in sight at all times. Kept her in his mind.

      They hadn’t been able to find the ex. Jonas had gone with the cops to Charles Crenshaw’s house, but he hadn’t been there. According to a neighbor, Crenshaw left town yesterday. An annual trip back to see his parents at Christmas.

      So the guy could have trashed the office Friday night, then—calm as you please—driven to Cincinnati to see his family.

      But Jonas didn’t like the whole damn situation, and until he got a better handle on just what the hell was happening, he planned to stay close to Christie. Not that staying close was any kind of hardship.

      She pulled into her driveway and the garage door began to open. He followed her, aware that the routine seemed way too comfortable and easy. Like I’m coming home.

      Bullshit, of course. Her place wasn’t his home. Not even close. His home was the barren apartment over on Bentley. The place that hadn’t even sported a Christmas tree until noon. He’d picked the thing up during lunch. He’d been worried Christie would come to his place and, well, hell, the woman loved Christmas. He’d needed the tree for her.

      He climbed out of his car and slammed the door. Christie waited for him by the doorway, a warm smile on her lips. The same smile she’d given him at her parents’ place, the smile that made him feel like he’d taken a punch in the gut.

      For that sweet curve of her lips, he’d gladly take a hit.

      He hurried to her, aware of the grind of the garage door as it lurched back down. His gloved fingers slid down her cheek. Her dress was driving him crazy.

      Christie laughed lightly and turned away. She unlocked the door and walked inside—

      Then she froze. The lights in the den and kitchen blazed cheerfully, but Christie wasn’t moving.

      “Christie?”

      “I turned that light off when I left.” Her hand pointed to the kitchen.

      Shit. He shoved her behind him. “Get in your car. Pull out onto the street. Lock the doors and stay there.” He took a step forward.

      Christie grabbed his hand. “What are you doing?”

      He had his phone out. “Calling for backup.” And checking the place out. He threw her a hard stare. “Go, Christie. Now.” He didn’t want her around any danger.

      Her delicate jaw tightened. “Be careful, Jonas.”

      “Always, baby.”

      She slipped outside, and he got ready to hunt.

      7

      Her house hadn’t been trashed. As far as she’d been able to tell in those brief moments before she fled, nothing had been taken, just like nothing had been taken from her office. But Christie knew someone had been inside her place. She always turned the kitchen light off when she left. Always.

      Someone had been there and turned it back on.

      She could tell by the way the uniforms on the scene were eyeing her that they didn’t necessarily believe her story.

      When Jonas came back to her side, she straightened away from her car, hugging the coat tightly to her. “Do you think it’s Charles? Is he really trying to—”

      “Charles is in Cincinnati.”

      “Since when?”

      “Nine a.m. I got a trooper who owes me a favor up there to check in on your ex. I didn’t think you wanted me to mention it at the party with all those people there, but”—Jonas shook his head—“Crenshaw’s not our guy.”

      Someone else out there wanted to scare her? Why?

      “I want you to come home with me tonight,” Jonas told her. “Let the uniforms keep searching here.”

      “Do you think they’ll find anything?” Someone had broken into my house. The goose bumps on her arms weren’t just from the cold. Fear had lodged inside her.

      His lips thinned. “Doubt it.”

      “Someone was here, Jonas.” She wasn’t crazy. She was more than a little obsessive compulsive, and she always turned out that kitchen light when she left.

      “I believe you, that’s why I want you with me. Until I find out what’s happening here, I want to make absolutely certain you’re safe.”

      She could be safe at her parents’. At Daniel’s. If she went with Jonas, she’d be getting a lot more than just safety.

      That was exactly what she wanted. “Okay, but