He smiled.

Cupping her face in his hands, he stared in awe. “I thought you were going over to your mom’s.”

“I am for dinner. But I wanted to surprise you.”

Adrian pulled her to him and kissed her until he couldn’t stand it anymore. He wanted her in a way he had never wanted anything else.

And that flimsy outfit that barely covered her and left nothing to his imagination, was making him way too hard for comfort.

Growling, he pulled his clothes off in record time, then tossed her over his shoulder and deposited her gently on the bed.

Sam laughed.

Adrian ran his hand down the curve of her thigh, amazed at how much he loved her.

Sam kissed Adrian’s bare shoulder as he reached into his nightstand for a condom.

He turned to her then, but instead of handing the condom to her as he normally did, he kissed her.

She felt something strange in his mouth.

Pulling back, she frowned as he pulled a ring out from between his teeth and handed it to her.

“I was going to give this to you tomorrow at dinner,” he said, looking a bit sheepish. “But since you’re here…”

Completely stunned, Sam couldn’t breathe as she stared at the ring. It was a one-carat, heart-shaped diamond engagement ring in a medieval-style setting that made her heart pound.

Tears welled in her eyes as she blinked in disbelief. “Are you sure about this?”

He ran his hand down her arm. “You’re the only thing in my life I’ve ever been sure about,” he whispered before he took the ring back.

He left the bed and went down on one knee beside it, then took her hand into his.

Tears fell down her cheeks at the sight of Adrian naked on the floor.

“Samantha Jane Parker, will you marry me?”

She launched herself at him and knocked him flat against the floor. “Of course I will.”

He laughed as she straddled his bare stomach.

Adrian placed the ring on her left hand, then he kissed it. “I love you, Sam.”

“I love you, Adrian,” she whispered, knowing in her heart that she had finally found her one, true knight in shining armor. And she was never, ever going to let him go.

SANTA WEARS SPURS

Prologue

Danger. O’Connell felt it on the back of his neck and deep in his bones as he raced his pinto across the dead winter Texas plains toward a town he’d never known existed.

After all this time, he ought to be used to danger. He had lived his life under its constant stalking shadow, and kept it as his faithful companion. Danger was his ally and his enemy.

It defined everything about him. There had only been one time in his life when he had felt safe. But that was a long time ago.

It was biting cold out, not that he felt it much. His thrumming blood kept him warm as he rode through the night.

“You should have been there, Kid. It was like taking candy from a baby,” Pete had laughed. “Hah, now that I think about it, I did take candy from a baby. I just wish I could see their faces when they wake up and find their money gone.”

Then as now, O’Connell hadn’t found the words amusing. He knew Pete could be as cold-blooded as they came – the bullet wound in his arm was testimony to that. But not even he had thought Pete would steal from an orphanage just two days before Christmas.

The man had no soul.

There was a time when O’Connell had been just the same. When hatred had strangled his heart and left him unable to feel for anyone save himself.

And then he’d met her.

His heart lurched, just as it always did when he thought of her. She had shown him another way, another life, and had changed everything about him in the process. She’d given him hope, a future. A reason to live. And life without her had been nothing more than a bitter hell.

In all honesty, he didn’t know how he managed to make it through the endless, miserable days that had turned into years.

Somehow, he just survived. Cold. Empty.

Alone.

God, how he missed her. How he ached for some way to go back and relive just one second of the time he’d shared with her. Just to see her face one more time, feel her breath on his skin.

For a moment, O’Connell let his thoughts drift to the past. And like they always did when he was unguarded, they went to a remembered dream of long dark brown hair and eyes as clear and warm as a summer’s day. Of a woman who had told him she loved him without making a single sound.

Closing his eyes, he saw her bright smile and heard the music of her laughter as she lay naked beneath him while he claimed her for his own. He clenched his teeth at the white-hot desire that coiled through his belly. And for a moment he swore he could still feel her hands against his back as she held him tight and cried out in ecstasy.

Not even five years could dull the memories. Or his craving for her touch. He could taste the salty sweetness of her body, feel her hot and tight around him, and smell the sunshine that had always seemed to be in her hair.

Catherine had touched him in ways no one had before or since.

“I remember you,” he breathed. But most of all he remembered the promise he had made to her. The promise he had broken. And in that moment, he wished Pete’s bullet had gone straight through his useless heart.

Lord above, if there was one last wish he could have, it would be to set things right. He’d sell whatever was left of his blackened soul for a way to go back and change what he’d done to her.

But it wasn’t to be.

He knew that.

There was nothing left for him to do except see the money back to the orphans Pete had stolen it from.

After that, he didn’t know where he’d go. He’d have to find another place where the law and Pete couldn’t find him. If such a place existed.

Briefly, he considered trying to find her. After all, she had been his safe harbor. His greatest strength.

But then, she had also been his greatest weakness.

No, it wouldn’t do to seek her out. Too much depended on him staying away from her. Because one thing his brother, Pete, had taught him years ago – there was no such thing as a second chance.

1

“All I want for Christmas is a man as handsome as the Devil himself. One with a charming smile, at least some semblance of intelligence, and a great, big, bulging – ”

“Rebecca Baker!” Catherine O’Callahan gasped, shocked at her friend’s words.

“Bank account,” Rebecca said as she dropped her hands down from the graphic illustration she had been providing. She picked up the frying pan near Catherine, then placed it on top of the black iron stove. “I was only going to say bank account.”

Trying not to smile lest she encourage her friend’s libidinous conversation, Catherine looked askance at Rebecca as she continued washing dishes.

Rebecca’s olive cheeks colored ever so slightly as she walked back to the sink. “Well, maybe I wasn’t. But as a married woman yourself, you know what I mean. How long am I supposed to go around mourning Clancy anyway? Good grief, it’s been almost four years since he died. And I barely knew him before we married.”

As was her habit, Rebecca gestured dramatically with her hands to illustrate her next words. “My father practically dragged me to the altar to marry a man almost twice my age. I tell you, snuggling up to a man whose hands and feet are colder than icicles in January isn’t my idea of wedded bliss.”

Catherine could well agree with that point.

Rebecca sighed dreamily as she idly put the plates on the shelf above her head. “What I’d like to have is a gorgeous, warm man I could be cow-tied to forever. A man who could enter the room and make me all hot, and cold, and all jittery.” She looked at Catherine and smiled. “Know what I mean?”

Blushing, Catherine grew quiet as she rinsed a large black pot. She knew exactly what Rebecca meant. She’d lain awake many a night as memories washed over her of a pewter-eyed demon who had promised her everything, including the moon above.

A man who had made her body so hot there had been times when she was certain she’d perish in flames.

But unlike her friend, she wasn’t a widow. For all she knew, her husband could come waltzing up to the front door at any time and knock on it.

As if that would ever happen, Catherine chided herself.

When would she give up her useless, unwavering hope of seeing him again? Why couldn’t she just put him out her mind?

What was it about him that made her yearn for him after all this time?

Of course, she knew the answer to that question – everything about him. He’d been so wonderful and kind, considerate and giving. Up until the day he left her without so much as a by-your-leave.

She must be insane to still yearn for him.

And after five years, he might be dead. Heaven knew, a lot had happened to her since he’d run off. She’d moved to a new town, started her own restaurant and boardinghouse, and created a respectable life for her and her four-year-old daughter, Diana.

Last summer, after the yellow fever epidemic, she and Rebecca had taken in five of the town of Redwood’s orphans.

A lot had happened.

Rebecca sidled up to her and took the pot from her hands to dry it. “So, tell me, if not a gorgeous St. Nick to come knocking on the door, what do you want for Christmas?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Catherine said as she reached to wash a pan. “I guess if I had my druthers, I’d like for our money to be returned. It bothers me that someone would steal from the children right before Christmas.”

Rebecca agreed. “I know how much you wanted to spend it on them. It’s such a shame. I can’t imagine what kind of monster could so something so terrible.”

Neither did she.

They didn’t speak for a few minutes. Only the sound of sloshing water and clanging dishes broke the silence as they worked.

All of a sudden, the hair on the back of Catherine’s neck stood up. Turning her head, she saw Rebecca staring at her.

“What?” she asked.

“Is that really all you want for Christmas?”

Catherine handed her another pan to dry. “Why, yes. I’m quite happy with everything else.”