Unwrap Me. Susan Lyons

and spiked eggnog, but each sip had made him feel emptier, so he’d stopped.

      Now the ship would be passing under the Lions’ Gate Bridge while his parents dressed for a fancy late dinner. And he was driving out of downtown Vancouver, heading for a strange woman’s apartment in Kitsilano. He’d been sent by his sister-in-law on some crazy mission.

      On the passenger seat of his Dakota 4x4 was an envelope Karen had said contained a Secret Santa gift for a friend at her office. He’d asked why she couldn’t give it to this Jude person at work tomorrow, but she’d said it had to be delivered to the door. And she couldn’t do it herself, because she and Kris had special plans—wink, wink.

      Lucky them.

      Fact was, Nick wasn’t in any rush to go home and be alone, so he’d agreed.

      This was the start of a few days off work. It would be a while before he’d be back at the fire hall, hanging out with his second family. At any other time of year, being alone wouldn’t have made him think twice. But now everyone was gift shopping, caroling, wrapping presents, baking cookies with their families. And for him that stuff was over for the year.

      God, he was pitiful. Time to get a life. Tomorrow was Friday. In the evening he’d go to the Players Chophouse down by BC Place and check out the women. It’d be nice to find someone fun to share the season with. Somewhere there had to be a great girl who didn’t give a damn about getting a diamond ring on her finger.

      Glad to have a plan, he concentrated on finding the address Karen had given him. The big brown house with cream trim had probably once been a family home, but now it was divided into two apartments. He walked up the steps and pressed the buzzer for the door bearing Jude’s number.

      An overhead light came on, and the door eased open an inch or two, held in place by a chain. A slice of female face peered through the gap. “Yes?”

      “Jude Benedetto? I’m Nick Buchanan. Karen’s brother-in-law. She sent me over.”

      Brown eyes narrowed below well-shaped black eyebrows. “Why?”

      He held out the envelope. “To deliver your Secret Santa gift.”

      Her eyes squeezed shut, as though she was annoyed or in pain. “I keep telling her I’m not into that stuff.”

      “Uh…you don’t like presents?” He raised his eyebrows. This was one unusual woman.

      Her eyes opened again, and she gave a wry smile. “Sorry, Nick. You don’t deserve to get caught in the middle. Thanks for playing messenger. Give me the gift, and you can go home.”

      He liked her voice. Low and musical, threaded with a touch of humor. Nick bit his lip, guessing he was going to piss her off again. “Karen said I had to hang around while you opened it.”

      “What? Oh, good god.” She shook her head and then closed the door.

      What was he supposed to do now? But then he heard the rattle of a chain, and the door opened—wide this time.

      “It’s cold,” she said. “You might as well come in.”

      “Thanks.” As he stepped inside and she closed the door, he stared at her. Man, Jude was something else. A tumbled mess of shiny black hair down past her shoulders. Olive-toned skin and striking features to go with her Italian surname. A build that was tall and shapely, shown off by jeans and a long-sleeved turtlenecked T-shirt the cinnamon-nutmeg color of mulling spices. Same color as her eyes, he realized as she stood in front of him and tilted her head inquiringly.

      Attraction sparked through him, putting every cell—and especially the ones in his cock—on the alert.

      Realizing she’d held out her hand, he put the envelope into it. Deliberately he let his fingers brush hers. Oh, yeah, more sparks. It was sure as hell getting hot in here.

      She ran a fingernail under the sealed flap, muttering, “Let’s get this over with.” When she pulled out a card with Santa on it, her eyebrows drew together. Then she opened it and frowned harder. “What on earth is this supposed to mean?”

      She thrust the card toward him. Below the printed message that read, Santa wishes you a Very Merry Christmas, Karen had written For you, Jude, the perfect gift. Your Secret Santa gives you Nick. He’s just what you wished for.

      What the hell?

      Jude studied the man standing in her entrance hall.

      The moment she’d seen him through the narrow gap between door and frame, she’d noted that he was unusually good-looking. Even though she’d been upset with Karen, she’d had to enjoy the eye candy. Now that he was inside, smelling of a fresh winter night, she could appreciate him fully.

      Nick Buchanan was tall and rugged looking without being bulky, even in a heavy sheepskin jacket. His hair was as black as hers, a little on the long side, but it softened his strong features.

      Features that right now were twisted into a puzzled scowl. “You wished for me? You don’t even know me.”

      “I didn’t wish for you. Get a grip. I don’t know what Karen’s talking about.”

      “Me neither.” He shrugged out of the heavy coat and tossed it over the chair that, along with a small table and an oval mirror, made up the furniture in the entrance hall. In well-worn jeans and a red flannel shirt, he looked better than a guy had any right to look. His eyes, gazing at her in bewilderment, were a striking gray-green.

      “I’ll call her and ask,” Jude said.

      “Oh, I wouldn’t. She and Kris are, uh, busy.” His cheeks, flushed from coming in out of the cold, turned even pinker. How cute that a big, masculine guy like this blushed.

      So, Karen and Kris were having sex. Lucky them. For Jude, it had been almost a year. A fact she’d been reminded of when Nick’s fingers had brushed against hers, igniting a pulse of arousal. Oh, it had been a long time since she’d felt that heat.

      Only a couple of weeks ago, she’d joked with Karen about…“Oh. My. God.” Jude had made a flip comment about wanting to spend the holidays having amazing sex with a superhot guy. It had been just a silly, girly conversation. Karen couldn’t have taken her seriously.

      But what else could the card mean?

      This time the heat that rushed through Jude was embarrassment. She pressed her hands against cheeks that must have been ten times brighter than Nick’s.

      “You figured it out?” he asked.

      She sent you to do me.

      Did he know? Cautiously, she asked, “She really didn’t tell you why she sent you?”

      “To deliver the gift. That’s all.” He took a wheedling tone, and his eyes twinkled. “Come on, let me in on the secret.”

      “She’s matchmaking,” Jude said grimly. “But you can forget it. I don’t need her help to find a man.”

      “God, no.”

      He sounded so sincere she was flattered. Then his eyes narrowed. “Wait a minute, it’s me she’s matchmaking. Jeez, I hate it when that happens. Everyone’s trying to marry me off.”

      “Marry you off?” She shook her head vigorously. “No, you’ve got that wrong. Karen knows the last thing I’m looking for is a husband.”

      “Yeah? So why would she matchmake you if you’re not—” He stared at her, eyes widening and then beginning to gleam in a sexy way that—damnit—sent more pulses of arousal thrumming through her body.

      By now her cheeks must have been the color of Nick’s shirt. She darted a glance at the mirror in the hall. Yes, definitely scarlet. “You should go.”

      “Sex?” he asked softly. “She sent me here for—”

      Before he could repeat the word, she said, “I’m mortified. How could she do this to me?