All He Wants For Christmas.... Kelly Hunter

‘Was that freely volunteered information?’

      ‘I think it was. But don’t distract me while I’m busy trying to distract you. I hear there’s a hell of a roller-coaster ride around here somewhere.’

      ‘Yes, but in order to get on it one has to plan ahead.’

      ‘Or we could go and play on the midlevel elevators, that’s always fun.’

      ‘Well, if you’re a two-year-old …’

      ‘Golf!’ he said, inspired.

      ‘Spare me.’

      ‘Shopping?’

      Ruby Maguire rewarded him with a smile. ‘I’m vastly impressed by your sacrifice, but no. Nothing much is open.’

      ‘Swimming?’

      ‘Maybe later.’

      ‘Mah-jong?’

      ‘But we’d need a third player.’

      ‘Poppy’ll play if we ask her. She might even know how.’

      ‘Meaning you’ve never played?’ asked Ruby delicately.

      ‘No, but how hard could it be?’

      ‘I like your optimism.’ Her smile had widened. Her eyes held a hint of mischief. ‘I suppose I could teach you the basics and then if Poppy wanted to join us she’d be most welcome. Were you to, say, enhance the speed of your learning experience by putting your money where your optimism is I would indeed be most delightfully distracted.’

      ‘You have all the essentials?’

      The peacock feather bobbed up and down vigorously as she nodded. ‘Everything but your blank cheque.’

      Ruby’s apartment held its own when it came to luxury and location. Size wise, it only had two bedrooms, one of which she used as an office, but the lounge and dining area was plenty large enough for a crowd, and more than large enough for a fleecing.

      ‘There’s a kitten around here somewhere,’ she said as she put her handbag on the side table and picked up the remote and switched the music on and drew the curtains back. Not Christmas tunes, heaven forbid, but rather a brother and sister duo whose music played light and ethereal and wormed its way into the soul one wisp at a time.

      ‘You mean this kitten?’ Ruby turned and there was the kitten, creeping out from behind the couch and venturing closer to Damon than he’d ever ventured to her without serious coaxing.

      ‘That’s him, and you’re doing well. He’s the wary type. I like to think he’ll turn out to be a sweet and loving companion once we move past the outright mistrust stage but that’s just pure and hopeful speculation.’

      ‘Have you considered getting a dog?’ asked Damon dryly as the little cat took cover behind the leg of the coffee table.

      But Ruby wasn’t quite mad enough to bring a dog to this city of sky rises and crowded concrete living. ‘Not for here,’ she said as she foraged in the fridge for the Christmas nibbles she’d stocked up on just in case, say, an army decided to drop in unexpectedly. ‘Maybe if I lived on a ranch, or a tropical island. Australia.’

      ‘Ever been to Australia? …’

      ‘Well, no. But I’m sure a dog could be very happy there. Its owner too.’

      ‘Let me know if you ever want to try it some time,’ he murmured. ‘I have a beach house on the East Coast that I never use. You could stay there. No resident dog though.’

      ‘Damon West, I stand corrected. You’re not a homeless person after all.’

      He smiled at that. ‘Does it make you think better of me?’

      ‘No, but your offer does. It’s very generous. Also somewhat surprising. What if I were to discover some of those well-kept secrets of yours while I was there?’

      ‘Well, you could try,’ he said with supreme confidence as she set a jug of water and frosty glasses on the breakfast bar beside the food. ‘We could have a little wager on it.’

      ‘That’s the spirit,’ she said encouragingly and offered him a candied ginger. ‘May I get you a drink? Inhibition-loosening beverage of your choice?’

      ‘And if you miss out on a suitable job in Geneva you can always try the casinos in Monte Carlo,’ he offered dryly. ‘They’d have you in a heartbeat.’

      ‘I’ll keep that in mind,’ she murmured, and he smiled his lazy smile and popped a candy in his mouth.

      He reached for the hat on his head and set it on the breakfast stool next to him, making himself at home in her space, working his charm because she’d asked him to. Because she’d done enough soul-searching for today, and they could hammer out the details of their relationship another time, or just let it flow, considering that they both appeared to be on the same page when it came to knowing nothing permanent would come of it.

      Didn’t mean she couldn’t appreciate and enjoy the gifts that he brought to her table today. The simple gift of being there. The rogue’s gifts of distraction and entertainment. His hug for her earlier, the gift of human touch. His understanding of her predicament when it came to her father. He had family he hadn’t heard from recently too.

      ‘Have you heard from your brother?’ One last serious question before she allowed herself to be seriously distracted.

      ‘No.’

      ‘Are you worried about him?’

      ‘Lena is. I’m a little more inclined to give him some leeway. Jared’s big on guilt at the moment because Lena nearly died under his command. Lena wants him home so she can tell him to get over it. My guess is that Jared’s gone after the people who hurt her and that he’ll be back when he can deliver up their heads on a plate and not before.’

      ‘Oh.’ What to say to that? ‘It sounds … plausible.’ If one discounted the fact that, out head-hunting or not, surely brother Jared would have found an opportunity to call home by now.

      ‘I know how it sounds, Ruby. But we’re used to not hearing from Jared for long stretches at a time. I’m not that worried about him. Yet.’

      ‘Good,’ she said sincerely. ‘Here’s to your brother getting his revenge and finding his way home.’

      ‘You’re not going to say he should leave it to the legal system?’

      ‘Justice takes many forms, my friend. The legal system delivers but one of them.’

      ‘They teach you that in law school?’

      ‘No, that one comes with age and experience.’

      ‘Imagine how cynical you’ll be by the time you’re sixty.’

      ‘I know,’ she said. ‘Frightening. I have a feeling you’re going to like mah-jong. It’s a game of great subtlety. The wind blows and the probabilities turn. Dragons roar and the path ahead changes. Flexibility is the key. I’ll show you the play, which you’ll pick up fast, and I’ll let you figure out the mathematical probabilities for yourself. Wouldn’t want that fancy maths degree of yours to go to waste.’ ‘You’re too kind.’

      ‘I know.’ She opened the case and watched Damon’s gaze sharpen upon the tiles as most everyone’s did when they first viewed the set. Pewter-backed jade, each piece exquisitely carved and painted and then polished to high gloss—each tile so perfectly matched to the next that there could be no telling them apart once they were face down.

      ‘It’s said this set once belonged to the emperor’s favourite concubine and that she won many a concession from her lover when the tiles were played. I hope you don’t mind if we play on a velvet cloth,’ she murmured dulcetly. ‘It’s a very sensual experience. And of course it protects the pieces.’

      Damon