One Winter's Night: The Twelve Dates of Christmas / Frozen Heart, Melting Kiss / A Cadence Creek Christmas. SUSAN MEIER

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      She bit her lower lip, wondering if she should come clean with Tina. She decided she needed to talk to someone. “Except I’m thinking I should end our deal.”

      “End a deal that might help you find a job? Are you nuts?”

      “More like concerned. I thought he wanted a date because of a bad breakup, but the way the wives of his friends were talking last night I get the feeling something big happened to this guy.”

      “Big like what?”

      “Something tragic. They said, ‘after his tragedy’ a couple of times.”

      Tina winced. “Sounds like maybe his last girlfriend died.”

      Oh. Wouldn’t that make sense? “Could be.”

      “Too bad we’re not allowed to use the internet here or we could look him up.”

      “I can always go to the library after work.”

      “Maybe you should.”

      Knowing she could investigate him later, she relaxed and got down to the business of typing legal briefs. Because she worked late that night, she couldn’t go to the library. Disappointment and curiosity collided, making her too nervous to sleep.

      As she lay in bed pondering Ricky, their deal and her life, it dawned on her that since she’d met him, she’d been immersed in helping him. All weekend long, she’d remade dresses, gone to parties and worked to make a good impression on his friends so he could be happy. And it had felt good. Really good. She’d been busy. Happy. Until his friends’ wives talked about “his tragedy” she’d been enjoying this charade.

      And thinking of someone else had made her stop dwelling on her own problems. She hadn’t done that since her husband had died.

      Maybe she shouldn’t jeopardize their good rapport by looking him up.

      Maybe helping a man with a tragedy in his past was exactly what she needed to get over her own grief.

      Especially because he was a friend of a friend. Ricky Langley wouldn’t be in Tucker Engle’s circle of confidantes if there was something wrong with him.

      He was a guy with a tragic past. A guy she could help. And in return she could forget about her own troubles.

      * * *

      Ricky trudged up Eloise’s four flights of steps on Friday night, so sad he’d nearly canceled their evening together again. On Monday night, he’d gone to the hospital to read to the kids, as Regina had suggested, and it had been devastating. He hated seeing kids suffer. He couldn’t believe Regina had suggested he read to children so weak they broke his heart, reminded him of Blake, reminded him of how stupid he’d been. His son was dead because he’d never asked Blake’s mother to let him raise him. She was a party girl turned mother and he’d seen the difficulties she’d had fitting Blake into her life. She probably would have been happy to give him custody of Blake, as long as she got visitation, but he’d never asked.

      Anger with himself had made his pulse race, and that night, he couldn’t stay in the children’s ward activity room. He’d bowed out before the kids even knew he’d come there to read, so there was no harm done to them. But as he’d struggled to get through his week without thinking of Blake, without berating himself for not asking for custody, for not taking his son away from a woman who clearly wanted an out, he’d simply forgotten about Eloise Vaughn.

      He almost laughed. Another man would think it impossible that he could forget a woman so beautiful she could be a princess. But that was his life.

      When she opened her door to him, and he looked down at her dress, he blinked. The pale blue fabric complemented her pink skin tone and yellow hair, but it also glittered as if someone had woven tinsel into the material. She looked like a princess trapped in a snow globe.

      His heart lifted a bit. “Wow.”

      She smiled. “You know, even if nothing else comes of fake dating you, I’m getting a real sense of satisfaction out of your compliments on my sewing.”

      He took her cape. When she turned for him to help her into it, he noticed this dress had a full back and sighed with relief. The gloom that hung over him like a dome loosened a bit. “You deserve to be complimented. I’d never guess you were taking old clothes and making them new.”

      They headed down the hall to the stairs. “It’s not like I’m redoing things from the last century. Five years ago, my clothes were in style.”

      “Then you went to university and your money had to go for tuition.”

      She stopped at the top step and faced him. “Something like that.”

      “Hey, unless you’re born into money, you’re going to suffer through university.”

      A strange expression crossed her face. He wouldn’t be this far in his business dealings if he couldn’t read the look of someone who had something to say. The pinch of pain in her eyes told him it wasn’t something good.

      But instead of a confession, she said, “Or starve.”

      He smiled, but curiosity ruffled through him. She’d told him about her job problem, but it had never crossed his mind to think she might have had personal troubles in her past. Something that had broken her heart.

      Still, he pushed it from his mind. He had problems of his own. And wondering about her wasn’t part of their deal. Getting to know her wasn’t even part of their deal. In fact, with as pretty as she was and as tempting, he might be wise not to ask questions.

      In the limo, they talked generically about her job and his busy schedule as they drove to a hotel in the theater district. Lit for Christmas, Times Square took his breath away. So many lights. So much creativity in the Santa and sleigh that rode the tickertape around the jumbo video screens, and the Santa’s workshop filled with elves in the toy store windows.

      He shoved back the memory of bringing Blake here for a private tour of the toy store and focused on getting himself and Eloise out of the limo.

      Again, the night was cold and, as they stepped out, Eloise shivered. His arm rose in a natural reaction to pull her close, but just before he would have touched her, he stopped himself.

      Too many things happened naturally with this woman, and although that probably added to the success of their charade, it wasn’t good for either of them personally. When they weren’t actually at a party, he would keep his distance.

      A small stairway took them to the hotel lobby, where they were directed to an elevator to the ballroom. Lively music blared at them as the doors opened.

      Eloise turned to him. “Are we late?”

      “No. We’re right on time. Preston’s a music promoter. Expect the unexpected. Including the fact that he might have started the party early just because he wanted to.”

      “Cool.”

      A laugh escaped, and he relaxed a little. Technically, he had to have fun and talk to her for the charade to work. “Cool? Maybe yes. Maybe no. But I’m betting on no.”

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