What The Millionaire Wants...: What the Millionaire Wants... / Spencer's Forbidden Passion. Brenda Jackson

Gardens, sadly pointing out that several were no longer working because of the damage they’d sustained in the storm. She showed him the gallery of Christmas trees decorated with handmade ornaments made by local schoolchildren that lined the walkways of the Carousel Gardens. Finally, she showed him her favorite part of the exhibit—the antique wooden carousel. “It’s more than a hundred years old,” she told him and explained how the severity of the storm and the exposure to water had left the carousel inoperable. “I know it doesn’t look all that great now because the paint is faded and chipped and so much of the gilding still needs to be redone, but you should have seen it before the storm. It was beautiful.”

      “I’m sure it was. It’s amazing it even survived the storm.”

      “It’s a miracle. I just hope they’ll be able to get the funds they need to restore it. Since the park doesn’t get any state or federal funding, the only money for repairs has to come from donations and admissions. With the population half of what it was pre-Katrina, there’s less money.” She sighed. “It would be such a shame if other little girls and boys never got to ride on it like I did.”

      “Boys, don’t run,” a harried-looking and very pregnant woman called out to the twin boys wearing green jackets and matching hats who were streaking toward them. “Please, would you catch them for me?”

      “Whoa,” Jack said, reaching out and corralling them. “Hey, buddies, what do you say we wait for your mom?”

      “You’re big,” one of the boys said. “Are you a Saints football player?” he asked, referring to the city’s beloved team.

      “Afraid not. But you guys are so fast, I bet you could play for them when you get big.”

      “I’m so sorry,” the woman said as she reached them. She smoothed a hand over her stomach. “Their little sister makes keeping up with them harder than it used to be.”

      “Not a problem,” Jack told her. “We were just chatting about football. I think you’ve got yourself two running backs in the making here.”

      The woman laughed and ruffled their heads. “Their daddy would love that. In fact, he’s home watching Sunday-night football right now. I must have been out of my mind to not make him come with me.”

      “We’re going to see The Cajun Night Before Christmas exhibit,” one of the boys said.

      “Are you now?” Jack replied.

      Both boys nodded. “It’s supposed to be just like the book. If you want to see it, you just need to follow this road.”

      “Over there?” he asked, pointing in the direction they’d indicated.

      “Yeah.”

      Still hunkered down beside the boys, Jack lowered his voice and said, “You know, I could have sworn I saw one of Santa’s elves hiding up in one of those trees over there.”

      Both boys’ eyes grew wide as they looked toward the trees. “Really?”

      Jack nodded. “I figure they must be here, checking out the boys and girls and reporting to Santa which ones are extra good. You boys might want to walk with your mom so they can tell Santa how good you two are.”

      “Come on, Mom. You’d better hold our hands and take it slow.”

      “Yeah, you shouldn’t run. You might trip or something,” the other twin added.

      “Thanks,” the woman mouthed as she and her sons headed in the direction of the trees with the elves.

      “That was really sweet of you. I’m sure their mother was very grateful,” Laura told him, touched by his actions.

      “Hey, I was telling the truth. I think I did see an elf in those trees,” he said, smiling once again.

      “Which tree?”

      “That one right over there,” he said and, grabbing her by the hand, he brought her several yards back from the road and pointed up to a huge oak. “That one. I saw a pair of little green eyes peeking out of those branches.”

      Laura peered up at the branches in question. “I don’t see anything,” she told him and when she turned to look at him, the smile dissolved on her lips. He was still holding her hand and he was watching her with an intensity, with a longing, that stole her breath.

      She didn’t know how it happened. She didn’t know if he took another step toward her or if she moved toward him. Then his mouth was on hers. The kiss was gentle, slow, just a simple brushing of lips against lips. Then she felt the tip of his tongue. Sighing, she opened her mouth to him. Heat exploded inside her and just when her senses hit overload, he was easing back, ending the kiss. Still dazed and wondering why he had stopped, she heard the voices. A family was approaching on the path near them.

      “I didn’t think you would want an audience,” he said simply.

      He was right. She wouldn’t and it embarrassed her that she had been so engrossed in the kiss that she hadn’t heard them. “Thanks.”

      “Don’t thank me. For a moment there, I considered not stopping,” he told her as he brushed his thumb along her jaw.

      Confused and shaken by his effect on her, Laura stepped back and in doing so pulled her hand free. She walked back over to the carousel to take another look at it before leaving.

      Jack followed and stopped beside her. “So tell me about the carousel.”

      “What do you want to know?”

      “About the history of it. How long it’s been here. How old you were the first time you came to see it.”

      Laura filled him in on the history, or as much of it as she knew. She told him how it had been her grandfather who had first brought her to see it. “I was four at the time,” she told him. “My mom was married to Jeffrey Baxter, the soap star, then, and we were living in California. She had just had Chloe and was finding a four-year-old and a newborn a lot to handle. So she sent me down here to visit my grandfather. I was feeling a little homesick, so he took me to see the Christmas lights in the oaks to distract me. And the minute I saw the carousel, I fell in love with it.”

      “Which one was your horse?” he asked.

      Laura looked over at him, surprised at his perceptiveness. “The palomino over there, with the red saddle,” she said, pointing out the horse she had always ridden. “I named him Pegasus.”

      “The flying horse, huh?” he remarked because it was one of the horses crafted with its legs in flight.

      “Yes,” she said and laughed at herself. “I really did think he could fly. In fact, I had myself convinced that the carousel was enchanted and that when everyone left for the night all the horses and animals would come to life.”

      “Ever test your theory?”

      “Yes,” she admitted proudly and smiled at the memory. “When I was six, I snuck away from my grandfather just before closing time and went and hid in the carousel house.”

      “What happened?”

      “None of the carousel animals came to life, but everyone else did. My grandfather and the security guards and staff were looking for me. My grandfather thought I’d been kidnapped and everyone was upset. I got in a lot of trouble with my granddad and wasn’t allowed to have any desserts or treats for an entire week after that.”

      He let out a whistle. “No desserts for a week? That must have been really tough,” he said, but from the grin on his face, it was clear he didn’t think it had been tough at all.

      “Trust me, it was torture,” she assured him with a laugh. “I’d have sooner given up my favorite doll than give up dessert for a week.”

      “Have a sweet tooth, do you?” he teased.

      “I was six,” she pointed out. Then recalling how his appearance