Wicked Christmas Nights: It Happened One Christmas

The warmth, the fragrance of the bubble bath, the darkness of the room, lit only with candlelight—all seduced her. The sensation of water hitting every inch of her—between her thighs, caressing the tips of her breasts—made all her nerve endings leap up to attention.

But when it came to really turning her on, her brain did the heavy lifting. It was too easy to remember the magical feel of his hands on her body, the sweet, sexy way he kissed, the groans of pleasure he made when he came.

Her hand slid down, scraping across her slick skin, teasing the puckered tip of one breast. The contact sent warmth spiraling downward, until her sex throbbed. Her eyes closed, her head back, it was easy to think his hands were on her, his fingers delicately stroking her clit until she began to sigh.

She gave herself over to desire, and let her mind float free. Memories gave way to imagination and her body, starved of physical connection for many months—since she’d left New York—reacted appropriately. Before too long, a slow, warm orgasm slid through her. She sighed a little, quivering and savoring it. But the deliciousness went away far too quickly.

It just couldn’t compare to the real thing. To Lucy, getting off had never been the point; it had been sharing the experience that she loved. And she couldn’t deny it, even after all these years, after the silence and the regret, she wanted to share that experience with him.

She quickly finished her bath, replaying the day’s events as she washed her hair. As she thought everything over, including the way she’d tried to skulk out of the building when his back was turned, something started to nag at the back of her brain. She couldn’t put her finger on it at first, just feeling like there was something she had forgotten. Something important.

It wasn’t until she was dressed in a comfortable pair of sweats, with her hair wrapped in a towel, that she realized what it was. “Oh, no!” she yelped.

Lucy ran to the living room of her apartment, seeing her purse on the table. Alone. “You idiot!”

Because, though she hoped and prayed she’d just forgotten to bring it in from her Jeep, she seriously feared she’d left her most precious possessions at the Elite Construction office: her camera bag and her very expensive specialty lenses.

She perched on a chair, trying to picture every moment. She remembered putting her equipment down on Santa’s seat before leaving with Stella. When she’d returned, she’d seen Ross. Desperate to get away without being seen, she’d hurried onto the elevator. Without stopping to grab her camera bag and lens case.

“Damn it,” she snapped, trying to decide if this was just bad or catastrophic. She had some big jobs lined up next week. Monday’s was with a very wealthy family, who wanted to sit for a holiday portrait at their home. They were the kind of people who could really give her a leg up with the Magnificent Mile set.

Unfortunately Lucy remembered what Stella had said about the Elite office: after tonight, they’d be shutting down until January.

She glanced at the clock—almost ten. Then out the window. The snow still fell steadily, but it appeared the wind had died down some. She could actually see down to the parking lot, could make out cars slowly driving by on the main street, which had been plowed, though the lot itself hadn’t been.

If the office was downtown, or as far away as the bank, she probably wouldn’t risk it. But it was close, maybe two miles. And the security guard could still be working. There was no guarantee that would be the case on Monday, especially if the whole city was snowed in until then.

Of course, if that happened, her own portrait appointment could be canceled as well. But if it weren’t—if the weatherman had overestimated this time, and everything was fine Monday—did she really want to risk not having the equipment she needed to do the job?

Convinced, Lucy raced to her room and changed into jeans and a thick sweater. Adding boots and her warmest coat, she headed outside. The snow on her car was heavy and wet, and every minute she spent clearing it reminded her she was crazy to go chasing after a camera at the start of a blizzard.

Fortunately, as soon as she exited the parking lot and got onto the slushy road, she could tell things were better than when she’d come home an hour ago. The snow was heavier, yes, but she didn’t have to crane forward and press her nose against the windshield to see out. It appeared old man winter was giving her a break—a short, wind-free window. She only hoped it didn’t slam shut until after she got back home.

The drive that had taken her a few minutes this morning took her fifteen tonight. But when she reached the parking lot for Elite Construction and saw the security vehicle parked there, plus the warm, welcoming lights on the first floor, she was glad she’d taken the chance.

Parking, she hurried to the entrance and pounded on the door. The man inside was so startled, he nearly fell off his stool. He came closer, calling, “We’re closed!”

“I know,” she said, then pulled her hood back so he could see her face. Hopefully he’d remember her, if for no other reason than that she’d been making out with one of his coworkers a few hours ago. “Remember me? I was here earlier.”

He nodded and smiled. Pulling out a large key ring, he unlocked the door, and ushered her in. “Goodness, miss, what are you doing out on a night like this?”

“I wouldn’t be if I weren’t desperate.” She stomped her feet on a large mat. “I need to get upstairs to where the party was held. I forgot something and I have to get it tonight.”

“Must be pretty important,” he said, his gray eyebrows coming together. “It’s not a fit night out for man nor beast.”

She chuckled, recognizing the quote from a show she’d loved as a kid. “Do you think you could let me go look for my things?”

“I’ll take you up. Gotta make my rounds, anyway.”

He escorted her to the bank of elevators, and punched in a number on a keypad by the nearest one. The light above it came on, and the door slid open. Pretty high-tech stuff. Of course, she’d noticed earlier today that the new building had all the latest bells and whistles.

Arriving on the sixth floor, Lucy hurried to the area where the photo booth had been set up. It had been dismantled. Santa’s chair was gone, and so were her bag and case. “Oh, hell.”

“Some stuff was left in the break room,” he told her. “If it’s valuable, it’s possible somebody locked it up for you.”

“Could be. Stella saw me leave my camera and lenses here.”

“Let’s check her office first, then,” he said, leading her down the hallway to the executive suite. He preceded her inside, but before she even had a chance to follow, she heard him exclaim, “Oh, no, watch it, mister!”

Following his stare, she looked out the window to the street below, and saw a car spinning out of control. It skidded off the street, hydroplaning across the parking lot where the Elite Construction security truck was parked. She winced, doubting the driver could regain control.

He didn’t.

“Dang it all,” said the guard. He cast her a quick look. “Do you mind looking by yourself? I should run down and make sure that driver’s all right. If your stuff’s not here, check the break room, back down the hall, fourth door on the left.”

“Of course,” she said, then watched the elderly man hurry away. She quickly scanned the office area. No luck. She wasn’t going to go snooping through Stella’s desk drawers or file cabinet, even if they weren’t locked. Her things wouldn’t fit, anyway.

She next spent several minutes searching the break room. It was piled with boxes of decorations, and containers of unopened food. Lucy looked through every bag and box, to be sure nobody had tucked her things in there for safekeeping.

Growing frustrated—and worrying somebody might have picked up the camera and lenses and given themselves an early Christmas present—she opened a free-standing cabinet and at last, struck pay dirt. “Yes!” she exclaimed, spying the familiar bag and case.

So relieved she felt like crying, she scooped them up, hurried toward the elevator and pushed the call button. She waited. And waited. And waited. Nothing.

Apparently the guard needed to again enter the code on the keypad so she could get down. Wondering if he could still be outside after all this time, she went to the front window and looked down toward the parking lot.

What she saw surprised her. An ambulance, its lights flashing, was parked beside the two vehicles involved in the fender-bender. She hadn’t realized the crash had been so serious, but apparently the driver had been hurt. They were putting him on a gurney and wheeling him over to the ambulance.

Suddenly that gurney was pushed under a streetlight, and she had a better view of the person on it. Even through the snow and the darkness she could make out the grizzled gray hair, not to mention the uniform.

It wasn’t the driver of the other car. It was the guard.

“Oh, God!” she muttered, wondering what had happened.

He’d gone out to help the accident victim—had he slipped and fallen? Or, maybe he’d been trying to help dig the vehicle out of a snowbank. Considering his age, and knowing even the healthiest of men could be affected when they tried to shovel too-heavy snow, she prayed he hadn’t had a heart attack.

Then she began to wonder something else.

What if she was trapped in this building?

Her heart started thudding as she replayed everything in her mind. The conscientious way the man had carefully locked the door this afternoon, even though people were still leaving. And the way he’d obviously kept the elevator turned off tonight, despite knowing she was up here.

Would he really…“No,” she muttered, certain he wouldn’t have locked her in when he went to help the other driver.

There was only one way to be sure. Remembering how Ross had beat her to the lobby today, she found a door marked Stairs and headed through it. Six flights down was not fun, but it was better than sitting in somebody’s office all night.

Reaching the entrance, she held her breath and pushed the nearest door. It didn’t budge. Neither did the one beside it, or the next. She really was locked in here.

“Every building has an emergency exit,” she reminded herself. She just had to find it. How difficult could that be?