White Knight

from “The Night Before Christmas Anthology”

By

Lori Foster

Chapter One

With the sluggish winter sun hanging low in the gray sky, Detective Parker Ross dragged himself out of his salt-and-slush-covered car. Howling wind shoved against him, jerking the car door from his hand to slam it shut. His dress shoes slipped on the icy blacktop and he almost lost his footing. The frozen parking lot echoed his muttered curse.

Cautiously, he started forward, taking in the depressing sight of his apartment building. The landlord's attempts at decorating had left bedraggled strands of colored lights haphazardly tossed over the barren, neglected bushes that served as landscaping. Some of the bulbs had blown, while others blinked in a drunken hiccup.

On the ground near the walkway, a dented plastic snowman lay on its side, half-covered in brownish slush, cigarette butts, and scraps of garbage.

Damn, but he'd be glad when the holidays passed and life returned to normal.

Slinging his soiled suit coat over his shoulder, his head down in exhaustion, Parker trudged along the treacherous, icy walkway. He didn't have an overcoat with him because the last perp he'd tangled with had destroyed it. Weariness and disgust kept him from noting the frozen snowflakes that gathered on the back of his neck; after such a bitch of a day, even the frigid December weather couldn't revive him.

A hot shower, some nuked food, and sleep—that's all he needed, in that exact order. Once he hit the sheets, he intended to stay there for a good ten hours. He had the next week off, and he didn't want to do anything more involved than camping on his couch and watching football.

God knew he deserved a rest. The past month of holiday-evoked lunacy and criminal desperation had left him little time for relaxation.

Parker saw Christmas as lavish, loud, and downright depressing. With his planned time off, he intended to hide out and avoid the nonsense.

Now, if he could just slip into his apartment without Lily Donaldson catching him…

Thinking of Lily sent a flood of warmth through his system, rejuvenating him in a way the frozen weather couldn't. He was old enough to know better, but no matter how he tried, Lily tempted him. She also infuriated him.

She aroused his curiosity, and his tenderness.

She made him think, and she made him hot.

She had trouble written all over her. He wanted to be all over her.

In the ten months he'd known her, Lily had influenced his life far too often. Smart, kind, gentle. She carried food to Mrs. Harbinger when the old lady fell ill. She argued sound politics with fanatical Mr. Pitnosky. Both intelligent and astute, Lily smiled at everyone, never gossiped, and had a generous heart.

She loved Christmas, which rubbed him raw.

And she had a terrible case of hero worship. That was the hardest thing to deal with. Parker knew he didn't possess a single ounce of heroism. If he did, then resisting her wouldn't be so damn difficult.

In a hundred different ways, Lily made it clear she wanted to be more than friends. But her age made him wary, her enthusiasm scared him to death, and her love of a holiday he scorned showed they had little in common.

On top of all that, he had serious doubts about her occupation.

Yep, a conundrum for sure. Parker hated to think about it, yet he thought about it far too often. Not once had he ever noticed any work routine for Lily. Sure, she left her apartment, but not dressed for anything other than a real good time. Always made up. Always decked out, dressed for seduction.

Sometimes she left early, sometimes late.

Sometimes she stayed gone for days, and some days she never left the apartment at all. But that didn't stop a steady stream of admirers from calling on her. The only reason Parker could tolerate that situation was because the guys seldom lasted more than a few hours, never more than a day.

Whatever Lily did to support herself, she sure as hell didn't punch a time clock.

He'd tried asking her about her job a couple of times, but she always turned evasive and changed the subject, leaving Parker with few conclusions to draw.

He was a selfish bastard who refused to share, so even if the other roadblocks didn't exist, no way could he let their friendship grow into intimacy.

That didn't mean he could keep his mind off her. Throughout the awful day—hell, the awful month—thoughts of Lily made the hours more bearable. He imagined her sweet smile, the special one she saved for him. He imagined that deep admiration in her eyes whenever she looked at him.

He imagined her lush bod, minus the sexy clothes she wore.

Seeing her now would shove him right over the edge. Avoiding her was the smart thing to do.

He planned to duck inside as fast as his drained body would allow. If she knocked, and he knew she would, he'd pretend he wasn't home.

After rubbing his bloodshot eyes, he opened the entrance door to the apartment building and stepped inside. Whistling wind followed in his wake—and still he heard her husky voice, raised in ire.

Shit. With no way to reach his front door, Parker paused by the mailboxes and listened. Lily's usually sweet voice held a sharp edge of annoyance. She probably had another smitten swain who didn't want to take no for an answer.

Peering out the glass entrance doors, Parker considered a strategic retreat. Maybe he could drop by a bar and get a beer. Or visit his mother—no, scratch that. His mom would start trying to rope him in for a big family get-together, caroling, or God-knew-what-other holiday function.

Maybe he could…

Lily's voice grew more insistent, and Parker's protective instincts kicked in. Damn it, even if it fed her goofy misconceptions about him being heroic, he couldn't let some bozo hassle her. Giving up on the idea of escape, Parker trod the steps to the second floor. Halfway up he saw her, and he forgot to breathe.

A soft white sweater hugged her breasts. Dangling, beaded earrings in a snowflake design brushed her shoulders. Soft jeans accentuated a deliciously rounded ass.

Previously spent body parts perked up in attention. Nothing new there. No matter what Parker's brain tried to insist, his dick refused to pay attention.

Lily's pale blonde hair, pinned up but with long tendrils teasing her nape and cheeks, gave the illusion that a lover had just finished with her. Heavily lashed brown eyes defied any innocence.

And her bare feet somehow made her look half-naked.

His heart picked up speed, sending needed blood flow into his lethargic muscles. Predictably enough, he went from exhausted to horny in a nanosecond.

Vibrating with annoyance, Lily stood just outside her apartment. A fresh, decorated wreath hung from her door, serving as a festive backdrop.

Lily loved the holiday. And he loathed it.

But for now, he couldn't let that matter. Lily had a problem. She had a dispute.

She had … a guy on his knees?

Parker blinked in surprise at that. Lily's confrontations always involved men. More specifically, they involved Lily rejecting men. But a begging guy?

That was a first.

Glued to his spot on the stairs, Parker stared, and listened.

"It was not a date, Clive. Not ever. No way. I made that clear."

"But we had lunch," Clive insisted, reaching out to grasp her knee. "Just the two of us."

While stepping back, out of reach, Lily exclaimed, "I picked up the bill!"

Clive crawled after her. "But I would have."

She slapped his hands away. "I didn't let you—because it was not a date."

"Lily," he moaned. "I thought we had something special."

"Tuna fish on rye is not special, Clive. Now get up."

At her surly reply, Parker bit back a smile. Lily excelled in brokenhearted boyfriends, and this guy looked very brokenhearted. Poor schmuck.

As Clive obediently climbed to his feet, Parker looked at Lily—and met her gaze. The surprise in her brown eyes softened to pleasure; she gave him a silly, relieved smile—expecting him to heroically save the day.

And Parker supposed he would.

He'd taken one step toward her when good old Clive threw his arms around her. "I love you!"

"Oh, puh-lease." Lily shoved against him, but Clive wouldn't let go.

"I do," he insisted. "Let me show you how much."

Glancing toward Parker, Lily said, "Don't be stupid, Clive. I know why you're here."

Parker knew why, too. Lily was sexy and sweet, and Clive wanted in her pants.

"You're after my money," Lily stated, causing Parker to do a double take.

"Lily, no!" Clive cried.

"You're broke, Clive. I know all about your business going under, the losses you've sustained."

"Temporary setbacks, I swear."

"Right. Temporary, because you figured I could shore you back up." She leaned away from Clive's hold.

"Noooo." Clive tugged her close again.

Straightening her arms to hold Clive off, Lily looked at Parker. "Well, don't just stand there."

Smirking, Parker took the remaining steps to the landing and caught Clive by the back of his coat. Because he was tired and annoyed—and damn it, he didn't like seeing other men slobbering on Lily—Parker rattled him.

"The lady said to leave." For good measure, he shook Clive again before setting him several feet away from Lily. "Now beat it."

Flustered, Clive straightened his coat with righteous anger. "Who the hell are you?"

"Just a neighbor."

"Then this doesn't concern you."

Given his height of six feet four, Parker had the advantage of looking down on most people, especially shorter people like Clive. "I'm a cop. I've had a shitty day." He leaned toward Clive, forcing him to back up. "I've dealt with a three-car pileup. Got knocked into a damn curb full of blackened slush by a mob of happy shoppers. Got jumped by a crazy woman stealing a bike for her kid. Had to break up a riot during a VCR sale. And wrestled with a goon robbing Santa of donations for the homeless. I am not in the mood to tell you twice."

Clive gulped. "I just need to explain to her…"

"She's not interested in your explanations."

Lily moved to stand beside Parker. "No, I'm not." She curled her arms around one of his for no reason that Parker could find. She did that a lot. If she spoke to him, she touched him—almost as if she couldn't help herself.

And it drove him nuts.

"All right." Dejected, Clive fashioned a puppy-dog face. "But you're making a mistake, Lily. I do love you. With all my heart." He turned and slunk down the stairs like a man on the way to the gallows.

When the door closed behind Clive, Parker mustered up his good sense and peeled Lily's hands off his arm. "Good night, Lily." He headed for his door.

"Good night?" She hustled after him. "But … what do you mean, 'good night'?"

"I'm beat. It's been a hell of a day." Parker refused to look at her. Just being near her made him twitchy in the pants. If he looked at her, he'd be a goner.

"Sounds like." She scuttled in front of him, blocking his way. "I never realized that detectives got into so many physical confrontations."

That damned admiring tone weakened his resolve. "It's the holidays." He couldn't help but look at her, and once he did, he couldn't look away. "It brings out the worst in everyone."

Gently, Lily said, "That's not true."

His day had been just bad enough to shatter his resolve. He wanted to vent. To Lily. Somehow, he knew she'd understand.

To disguise his level of emotion, Parker snorted. "The wreck I mentioned? It sent two innocent people to the hospital."

Concern clouded her beautiful eyes. "I'm so sorry to hear that."

"I got called in because the arresting officer found psilocybin mushrooms in the car of the idiot who caused the wreck. Enough to know he's a dealer."

"Hallucinogenic drugs," Lily breathed, surprising Parker. "How terrible. Will the victims be all right?"

Parker eyed her. What the hell did Lily know about mushrooms? "I don't know," he grouched. "Last I heard, the woman was in surgery." She had two kids who'd be counting on her to be there Christmas morning. Parker hoped like hell she made it.

"The dealer?"

"Escaped without a scratch."

"But you'll see to him, I'm sure."

Parker ground his teeth together, pissed off all over again. Lily sounded so confident in his ability. "I'd already arrested him once on a charge of manufacturing methamphetamine, but he failed to appear in court. At least this should cinch a conviction."

Lily inched closer, her expression sympathetic, her mood nurturing. "Your job isn't often an easy one, is it?"

Damn, she looked sweet and soft, and far too appealing. Parker cleared his throat. "Look, Lily, I'm beat. I don't want to talk about work." He didn't want to tempt himself with her. "I need to get some shut-eye."

Her hand settled over his, her fingers warm and gentle. "At least let me explain about Clive."

Cocking a brow, Parker said, "It was pretty self-explanatory."

Leaning on the wall beside his door, her gaze somber, she studied him. "I had no idea Clive harbored an infatuation. He said he wanted to talk about business, my schedule was clear…" She shut down on that real fast. "It was not an intimate lunch."

The nature of their business made Parker's stomach roil. "So you said."

"I guess you got an earful, huh?"

She didn't sound all that embarrassed. "He lied to me, Parker, saying he wanted to help with a project of mine, telling me he wanted to be friends. Can you believe his nerve?"

"The world is full of creeps, Lily." What project? No, he didn't care. "Good night."

Lily's voice dropped. "It's barely six o'clock."

Sticking his key in the lock, Parker tried to ignore her nearness. An impossible task. "I've been up over twenty-four hours. I can't see straight anymore. Fast as I can get a shower and find some food, I'll be turning in." His door opened. He stepped inside…

Lily followed. "Poor baby." She touched him again, this time on his right biceps.

Even through his shirt, Parker felt the tingling jolt that shot through his system and fired up his gonads. She might as well have grabbed his crotch for the way it affected him.

Unaware of his rioting libido, Lily said, "I feel terrible that you got pulled into the middle of my mess after all you've been through today."

Before he could censor himself, Parker said, "It's getting to be a habit."

Lily tilted her head and smiled. "I can think of worse habits than drawing your attention."

Please don't go there. "Sorry." Parker ran a hand over the knotted muscles in his neck. "I didn't mean that the way it sounded."

"I understand. I … I do seem to have a bad track record with guys."

"Lily…"

"I don't blame myself, though." Rather than explain, she brightened her smile and changed the subject. "Now that Clive's gone, why don't you let me thank you with dinner?"

Parker took a step back, then stopped to curse himself. Damn it, since when did women have him retreating like a green kid in middle school?

Since Lily had moved in—smelling, looking, probably tasting like sex.

His body flinched in excitement, and he quickly steered his thoughts in a new direction. "That's all right. I'll just grab a sandwich or something."

"I have plenty of fresh leftovers. Fixing you a plate of ham and potato salad won't take any longer than making a sandwich." Coy, Lily ducked her head, and one long blonde curl fell over her breast. "Besides, today is my birthday."

Ah, shit. "Yeah?" And he heard himself say, "So are you legal yet?" The second the words left his mouth, Parker clamped his lips shut. Too late.

"Actually," Lily said, gazing up at him in adoration, "I've been legal for a while. I'm twenty-four now."

So it wasn't as bad as he'd told himself. He still felt ancient. At thirty-eight, he was old enough to be her … older brother.

"My folks are on vacation," Lily continued, and she took a tiny step forward, full of entreaty. "They won't get home till Christmas morning. My friends are all with their families. I don't have anyone to celebrate with—but now you're home."

Just the thought of spending the night with Lily had Parker's heart dropping to his stomach.

With anticipation.

"Really, Lily, I'm shot. I'd be lousy company."

"You don't have to entertain me."

Peculiar desperation clawed at him. If he ever had her, he wouldn't want to let her go. But the roadblocks all remained. "I need a hot shower."

Her gaze dipped over him with approval, lingering on his belt buckle, then the open collar of his shirt. Parker felt his nostrils flare at her interest, and knew he fought a losing battle.

"I think you look … fine."

Coming from her mouth, fine sounded like the greatest flattery.

"But if you want, go ahead and clean up and change out of those wet clothes. I'll get the food ready."

Seeing no help for it, Parker caved. "All right. Thanks." He made a move toward the door, hoping she'd take the hint and skedaddle so he could regroup. "Throw a plate together and I'll come over and grab it as soon as I'm done."

"Don't be silly." Lily patted his chest, then let her fingers linger. Her attention on his sternum, her voice low, she said, "Leave your door unlocked." Her gaze lifted, warm and intimate. "I'll get everything heated up and bring it to you."

He'd just bet Lily could heat things up… No. Hell no. "I don't want to put you to any trouble."

"I insist." She traipsed out, giving one flirtatious smile over her shoulder as if she hadn't just manipulated him. "It's the least I can do since you played White Knight for me again."

Damn. Parker shut the door behind her. Now what? Hands on his hips, he looked around at his apartment, seeing the newspapers everywhere, the layers of dust, the dishes in the sink. His neck stiffened.

So what? He worked so damn many hours this time of year, he didn't have time for fussing around the apartment.

Stalking into his bedroom, mumbling under his breath, Parker rummaged around in his dresser until he found clean clothes. In the bathroom, he stripped down to his skin and stepped under the steamy, relaxing spray. Tension eased, and his thoughts drifted—to Lily being only twenty-four, young and ripe, and so sexy.

To Lily smiling at him, touching him. Understanding him, admiring him.

To Lily naked, stretched out over his kitchen table while he—

With a groan, Parker stuck his head under the water and tried to clear his brain, but the past ten months flashed by with highlights of Lily. He saw her in her shorts, her shapely legs lightly tanned. He saw her speckled in yellow paint when she'd redecorated her kitchen. He saw her fussing over him when he got stitches in his head from a car chase that went bad, and laughing at him when he came home covered in mud for the same reason.

When with her, he felt younger and happier—and that made him vulnerable.

Dealing with the dregs of society had taught him that good didn't always prevail over evil. Right didn't overcome might. Crimes went unpunished, while good people sometimes paid with their lives.

But Lily gave balance to the futility of his job. Her enthusiasm for life made him less pessimistic. Time and time again, she told him what a difference he made—and when she said it, he almost believed it.

Almost.

His trained ears detected the sound of his door opening. He straightened abruptly, straining to hear Lily, his heart suddenly galloping a wild beat. If he didn't greet her, would she join him in the shower?

Liking that thought far too much, Parker washed with a vengeance, rinsed, and turned off the water.

He could hear Lily singing … to Christmas music.

Damn. Dredging up his bad attitude, his disgust with the holiday, he scowled toward his closed bathroom door.

He didn't have any Christmas music. None. Was it on the radio? Probably. Lately, that's all they played. She had a nice voice. He groaned.

Parker quickly dried and dressed in loose sweatpants and a T-shirt. He finger-combed his wet hair, peered in the mirror, saw the dark whiskers on his face, the circles of exhaustion under his red-rimmed eyes, and disgusted, left the bathroom.

Before he saw Lily, he noticed the portable CD player, blaring Elvis's holiday tunes. Then he noticed the red, cinnamon-scented candle, its smell potent enough to assault his nose. He saw that the dishes, placed just so on his beat-up table, were all red and green.

And he saw Lily, standing at his counter, pouring a big glass of milk. She sang along with Elvis while rocking her hips to the beat of the music. An air of happiness surrounded her, and Parker simply stood there, watching her, his heart thumping and his mind in turmoil.

She must have felt the intensity of his gaze, because she glanced over her shoulder and gave him a quick once over, her expression warming. "I figured you must like milk, since you have a gallon of it. I couldn't see beer with dinner, and there's nothing else." She turned to face him. "Unless you want me to run back to my place and grab some eggnog?"

The thought of eggnog nearly made him gag. "Milk is fine." He gestured at the table presentation. "What the hell is all this?"

She laughed. Of course. Lily was forever laughing, because Lily was always happy.

"You sound like the Grinch, Parker."

"Who?"

"You remember. That green nasty guy who wanted to do away with Christmas in Whoville."

He grunted, thinking the similarity apt. All but the green part.

"Don't be like that. It's the holiday season. A time for good cheer." She pulled out a chair and waited for him to sit.

Determined to get the festive meal over with, Parker strode forward and took the chair. "Ladies don't hold chairs for men."

"Now you sound like a sexist grinch."

To his surprise, she pulled out a chair for herself and joined him at the table. When Parker just looked at her, she grinned. "Go on. Dig in. I want to see if you like it."

"I haven't eaten since … well, I forget what time it was, but somewhere around six in the A.M." And then he'd only had a hardened biscuit with a congealed hunk of sausage and cold egg. "Believe me, I'll like it."

He forked up a big bite of ham … and wanted to moan in sublime pleasure. Honey and brown sugar and some vague spices exploded on his tongue in a taste mamba. His eyes closed. He swallowed. Heavenly.

"Good, huh?" Delight sounded in her voice. "I love these caterers. They always do a fabulous job."

Parker gathered himself and opened his eyes back up. "Caterers?" That made sense. He glanced at Lily's heavy breasts beneath the soft sweater and called himself a fool. A woman like her had no use for cooking skills. Still, he asked, "Why does a single woman need a caterer?"

Her head tilted in that familiar but curious way. "To help feed the homeless. Why else?"

Chapter Two

Parker choked on his food. "Homeless?" he rasped, and started wheezing.

Leaving her seat, Lily approached him and pounded on his back until he caught his breath. "You okay now?"

Jesus, he was in bad shape if getting a fist between his shoulder blades turned him on. But it was Lily's fist, and she stood close, and he could smell her. More than enough reasons for arousal.

He nodded, took a large drink of milk, and managed an almost normal breath. "Thanks."

Smiling, trailing one finger across the table, Lily headed back to her seat. Parker stared at her ass in the snug jeans, knew he stared, but couldn't seem to pull his gaze away.

After reseating herself, Lily put her right elbow on the table and propped her head on a palm. The position left her breasts resting on the edge of the table. His table. Right in front of him.

"Parker…" She fidgeted with her hair. "May I ask you something?"

Mesmerized, he watched her delicate fingers as she teased that long, loose curl hanging over her shoulder, twining it around and around. He asked, "What?" and was appalled at how hoarse he sounded.

"It's kind of personal."

His gaze shot back to her face. She looked far too serious, and alarm bells went off in his beleaguered brain. "This might not be the best time…"

"Why don't you like me?"

Damn it. Her blurted words hung in the air. She looked anxious and young, and Parker wanted to reassure her—then ravage her for about a day and a half.

"Don't be ridiculous." Unable to meet her gaze, he stared down at his plate of food. "Of course I like you."

"But you've never asked me out."

Trying to appear blasé instead of edgy, Parker forked up another big bite of ham. "We're neighbors, Lily. Friends."

She folded both arms on the table and leaned toward him, giving him a clear shot of her cleavage. His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. Lust churned in his belly. Heat rose.

"I'd like us to be more."

A man didn't get to be his age without meeting plenty of women. He'd liked some, he'd lusted after others. A few he'd really cared about.

But none of them had ever looked at him the way Lily did. None of them had ever sent a jolt to his system that obliterated all thought. More times than he cared to admit, he'd gone to sleep thinking of her and had awakened in the middle of an explicit dream.

"I've tried," she pointed out, as if he might not have noticed all the ways she deliberately provoked him. "But you don't even see me as a woman."

Parker did a double take, and sputtered. "That's just plain stupid."

"Is it?"

Gaze dipping to her breasts, then darting away, Parker snorted. "Trust me, Lily. Your … femaleness is not something I'd miss."

"Then you must find me unattractive."

He rolled his eyes. She deliberately put him on the spot, but Parker couldn't stop himself from reassuring her. "You have mirrors. You know what you look like." When she remained quiet, just waiting, he huffed out a long breath. "You're beautiful. Okay?"

Pleasure brought color to her cheeks. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"So if you like me and find me attractive, why haven't you asked me out?"

A full frontal attack. And at a time when his defenses were down. Stalling for time, he took another bite of ham. Hell, he was too hungry not to eat. He swallowed, then eyed her with cynicism. "What's this all about?"

Lily pushed out of her seat and began to pace.

Parker again noted her bare feet. She really did have cute, sexy toes.

Turning to face him, she folded her arms under her breasts and drew a deep breath. "I want you."

His heart did a somersault. Every muscle in his body clenched. His neck already had more kinks than a porn star, and now he winced.

Easing back in his seat, his watchful gaze locked on her, Parker rubbed at his neck. He decided being straight with her would be his best strategy. "Look, Lily, you're a little sexpot, okay? Very sweet on the eyes. No one can deny that."

Her arms dropped and she gaped at him. "A … a sexpot?"

Did she have to sound so startled? Parker rolled one shoulder, trying to ease the rising tension. "That's right. But the thing is—"

An odd, unidentifiable look came over her face, alarming Parker for a heartbeat. Jesus, he hated it when women turned to tears. He opened his mouth, more than ready to apologize, to do whatever necessary to fend off the excess of emotional upset—and she threw back her head, roaring with hilarity.

He went rigid. "What's so damn funny?"

"Oh God, Parker." For several moments, she laughed too hard to answer. Her blonde curls bounced—and so did her boobs. Tears of mirth filled her eyes. She pressed a hand to her belly.

Finally, wiping her eyes and still grinning big enough to blind him with her pearly whites, Lily said, "I know you're older than me. But using a word like that makes you sound like a grandpa."

Grandpa his ass! Never mind that he'd always considered her too damn young. Now he felt challenged. "I'm thirty-eight."

Lily bit her lip, trying to stifle her laughter. "Ah. I see."

Parker's teeth ground together. He'd sounded frigging defensive even to his own ears.

"Come on, Parker. It's not like forty is old."

"I am not forty." Shit. More defensiveness. Just shut the hell up, Parker.

"Right. My apologies," she teased. "Thirty-eight. A gorgeous, sexy, mature, kind, and protective thirty-eight."

Was she poking fun at him? Or indulging more of that asinine hero worship?

Or was she just plain admiring?

Her lips curled. "So, by sexpot, did you mean I'm sexy, or was that an aspersion on my character?"

Another kink formed in his neck. Christ, he hated these types of confrontations. "Both." There. Let her deal with that.

But her gaze focused on his hands and on how he rubbed at his neck, and before he knew it, Lily stood behind him, pushing his hands away and touching the naked skin of his neck and shoulders, soothing, caressing.

Parker stiffened. So did the old John Henry.

"All right, Parker. Time for us to clear the air." She leaned down to the side of his face, saw his stock-still shock, and frowned. "I mean it, Parker. Pay attention."

"Trust me." He swallowed hard. Gentle breath brushed his jaw. Slender fingers dug into tense muscles, forcing them to relax. Feminine heat, scented by Lily's curvy body, drifted around him. "You have my undivided attention."

He drank in her light womanly perfume and turned his head just enough so that his jaw brushed one plump breast.

Lily straightened. A sigh shuddered out and, voice shaking, she said, "You've got it all wrong, you know."

Did he? Her fingers slid into his hair, rubbing at his scalp, his temples, then smoothing down his neck and into his shoulders. Oh God, it felt good. Better than good. Close to orgasmic.

Real men didn't melt from a woman's touch—but he wanted to. He wanted to strip those skinny jeans right off her and pull her onto his lap.

He wanted to come and then to sleep for about a week.

"I'm independently wealthy."

Jerking hard, Parker rekinked everything she'd just relaxed. "Ow, shit." Twisting to face her, Parker demanded, "What did you say?"

"Hold still." She pressed at his shoulders until he gave up and sank back into his seat.

It was as much mind-numbing shock as anything else that had Parker staring straight ahead at nothing in particular. His brain struggled to make sense of her ridiculous statement. "You say you're independently…"

"Wealthy."

"I see." He didn't see a damn thing, except maybe that expanding divide between his world and hers. He'd always known she was naive about life, blind to the ugliness in it. How else could she stay so damn happy all the time? "That explains everything."

"You don't have to be sarcastic."

He was horny, not sarcastic. Okay, maybe a little sarcastic. And real disbelieving.

"My grandmother doted on me. I was her only grandchild." Her warm fingertips moved to his temples. "When she passed away, I became financially set. I was nineteen when that happened. I tried to find a job, but you know, I'm just too spoiled to want to work for anyone else."

He'd never considered her spoiled. Pampered, maybe. Innocent. But also generous and kind. Definitely not spoiled.

"I donate."

Head swimming, Parker looked at her over his shoulder. "Donate what?"

Her hands rested on his shoulders. They stared at each other. Neither of them moved.

"My time. My money." Her lashes lowered. "My optimism and good nature and happiness."

How the hell did you donate happiness?

"You know, that's why you've seen so many guys hanging around my place. Like Clive, they're looking to get rich the easy way."

Aha. Finally something he could sink his teeth into. "Reality check, Lily. If you're really rich—" Which he doubted. "—then money might be a perk, but it wouldn't be the first thing on a guy's mind."

He could tell she didn't believe him, and for some reason, that annoyed him. "When men come sniffing around you, they're looking to get laid, not rich."

His crude words brought a curl to her mouth and put a twinkle in her eyes. "How come you aren't sniffing a little?"

Sniff? He all but hyperventilated around her. "A lot of reasons—but it sure as hell isn't because of the way you look."

"Enlighten me."

"All right, fine." Parker turned to face her. "You're young, and you have a very skewed outlook on life."

Her brows lifted in surprise. "What's wrong with my outlook?"

"You run around in rose-colored glasses, seeing what you want to see." Especially where he was concerned. "And this crazy fascination you have with Christmas…" He shook his head. "There's nothing like the festive season to force you to face facts."

"What facts?"

"That life isn't always as joyful and triumphant as we're led to believe."

While appearing to digest his comments, Lily went back to caressing his shoulders. "I can't do anything about my age, Parker. Not that twenty-four is too young, anyway."

"It's a fourteen-year difference."

She shrugged. "So?"

What could he say to that? At the moment, her age didn't bother him a bit. "I can't say as I approve of your career choices, either."

"Why? What do you have against philanthropists?"

Being a detective came to Parker's aid. He caught Lily's wrists and lifted those small, teasing hands away from his flesh. Holding her captive, he eased her around to the side of him, turning at the same time so that they faced each other.

"I'm not buying it, Lily."

She didn't try to pull away. A little breathless, she whispered, "Why not?"

"For starters, look at where you live."

"You live here, too."

"Because I make a cop's salary. If you're as loaded as you say…"

Lily inched closer, edging her knees between his open legs, and Parker went mute. He still clasped both her wrists in his much bigger hands, and now he caged her in, damn near embracing her.

She didn't seem to mind at all.

Focus, Parker, focus. He cleared his throat and tried to ignore the stab of sexual awareness. "Why the hell would you live here if you could afford something better?"

Her gaze softened, and she gave him a very sultry look. "Because you do."

Parker shoved back his chair and managed to stand without touching her. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Do you remember the first day I met you?" Her breasts lifted against the soft material of her sweater in a deep sigh. "I do."

Of course, he remembered. "Some yahoo was arguing with you at your door. You told him to get lost, but he didn't want to."

Lily nodded. "Another fortune hunter. I've dealt with them since my inheritance. You were all sweaty, and you had a black eye. You didn't explain, you just moved up behind him, gave him this certain look that sent chills all over me, and said in a deep, I'm-in-command-voice, Is there a problem? And just like that, conflict solved." She pressed her clasped hands to her heart. "You were so powerful and gallant."

Her admiration threatened his resolve. Day in and day out, he worked his ass off trying to help people, trying to serve the public. More often than not, he got disappointment and complaints instead of gratitude.

But with Lily, she appreciated every damn thing he did for her. In her eyes, he was a hero. He was the man he'd always wanted to be.

Parker retreated, which annoyed the hell out of him. He didn't retreat from anyone. Anyone except Lily.

She strolled after him.

He stepped back again—and butted up against a wall. Shit. Trapped. "I'm a cop," he said fast. "It's second nature to interfere."

"With you, it's more than that. I bet you were always a defender of the underdog, huh?"

"No." But he was. He could never tolerate bullies, and he detested cruelty of any kind. He'd become a cop because he wanted to help, wanted to make a difference.

"So modest." She stared at his mouth. "There's something so sexy about the strong, silent type. Know what I mean?"

"No."

"I bet you always wanted to be a cop."

"Wrong." God, he was a lousy liar.

"And now I know that you're attracted to me." She stopped right in front of him, with only a thin space of air separating them. "So why fight it?"

Any second now, Parker knew he'd crumble. "You wanna know what I thought you did for a living?" He didn't give her a chance to reply. She'd left him little space to maneuver, and she looked so appealing staring up at him like that—the situation called for desperate measures. "I figured you for a hooker."

Lily blinked at him.

Neither of them moved.

Even Elvis quit singing. That stunned him, until a new CD, this one Neil Diamond, clicked into place. "A hooker?"

Feeling dumber by the moment, Parker nodded.

Her lips twitched a little, then firmed. "As in a woman who makes her living selling sex?"

Another nod, this one more curt. He waited for her to slap his face.

Instead, she giggled. "Oh my. You're giving me more credit for my sexual experience than I deserve."

Parker drew himself up. Just what the hell did she mean by that?

"What a dilemma for you, Detective Ross. Here you are, the quintessential defender of evil—"

"Knock it off, Lily."

"The epitome of all that's good—"

Growling, he said, "You're asking for it."

"A regular White Knight, and you thought the damsel in distress was a soiled dove."

How dare she poke fun at him! Parker loomed over her. "You keep irregular hours. You have strange men at your door all the damn time. And you look…" His agile tongue tripped to a halt. Jesus, he'd backed himself into a verbal corner.

She batted her lashes at him. "I look … what?" Fighting a laugh, she said, "Like a…" The laughter won, and she barely managed to get the word out around her hilarity. "Sexpot?"

Furious, Parker slid away from the wall and stalked over to the table. He grabbed up another chunk of ham and tossed it into his mouth. "Listen, I'm too shit-faced to be heckled right now. Take your little party home and let me get some sleep, why don't you?"

Rather than leave, she occupied his spot on the wall, collapsing back in amusement, her dark eyes all lit up and pretty. Her laughter never failed to affect him. He felt his ill humor slipping away.

And the way her breasts jiggled…

Parker stormed up to her, caught her upper arm, and pulled her away from the wall. "Time to go, Lily." In about two more minutes, he'd be flat on his face, passed out.

If he lasted three minutes, she'd probably be under him.

Taking him by surprise, Lily drew up short, pulled him around, and threw herself into his arms. "You're precious, Parker, you really are."

Precious? Fighting the urge to snuggle her warm little body against his, Parker ground his teeth together. "You're laughing at me," he accused.

"Because it's funny." She chuckled again and shook her head. "Believe me, if I was a hooker, I'd starve to death."

Don't ask, Parker. Just don't ask.

Her hands came to rest on his chest, and she tipped her head back to see him. "You've fascinated me from the first day we met. And now that I know why you've kept your distance…"

Her reaction defied logic. "I can't believe you're not insulted."

"Plenty of men have been after my money. That's a whole lot more insulting."

Somehow, his hands ended up on her waist. He could feel the heat of her, the supple softness. "Idiots."

Her gaze warmed. "But you had no idea I was rich. You thought I was a hooker." Her fingers curled, subtly caressing him. "And still, you've always been kind and considerate. And you're attracted to me."

"I'm a man. How could I not be attracted?" The words no sooner left his mouth than Parker wanted to cut out his own tongue. He needed to dampen her pursuit, not encourage it.

Didn't he?

He started to step away, and Lily launched into explanations. "I chose this apartment because it's close to one of my favorite shelters. I spend a lot of time there helping the homeless, abused women, and kids of addicts."

So that's how she knew about mushrooms. His next thought made his guts cramp: Maybe she wasn't so innocent and naive after all. As much as her rosy demeanor had always annoyed him, he detested the thought of her facing the ugliness in life.

"While my house was being built, I needed a place to stay. But then I met you, and I didn't want to move until I got things straightened out between us. Only you refused to make a move beyond being friendly. I knew I had to do something to get your attention."

She waved at the table where the candle still burned and Neil Diamond growled out an old familiar holiday tune. "So I forced dinner, and a little holiday cheer, onto you."

"The dinner was great."

Cuddling closer, she asked, "But the holiday cheer?"

"It's a myth. The holidays depress the hell out of most people."

Her brows came down in a frown. "That's nonsense. The holidays give people hope. They give them something to focus on other than their troubles."

"Like lack of funds, lack of family and friends, lack of … faith." Damn it, he sounded maudlin. "Do you have any idea how many suicide attempts get called in?"

She put a hand to his jaw. "There will always be lonely and unhappy people, Parker. Neither you nor I can reach everyone. But during the Thanksgiving-to-Christmas season, the suicide rate actually drops."

"You can't prove it by me."

Now she looked indignant. "Parker, this is what I do. I know what I'm talking about." And to prove it, she added, "The American Association of Suicidology has proven that December has the lowest suicide rate of any month of the year. And the National Center for Health Statistics has documented a suicide drop by at least twenty percent during the holidays."

Anger rippled through Parker. "Christ, I fucking hate hearing people classed as statistics."

Lily's smile wobbled, not because his temper scared her, but because she interpreted his words all wrong. "You're an incredible man, Parker. A hero." She hugged herself against him again. "You care, when a lot of other people don't." With a sigh, she added, "It's what I find most attractive about you."

She offered herself so openly. It'd be beyond nice to lose himself in her slanted perception, to take all her softness and block out the ugly truths. But as a realist Parker faced his own demons. And it was past time Lily did the same.

Hands shaking, Parker clasped her upper arms and levered her away. "Red light, Lily." He gave her a slight shake, making her eyes widen. "Put your damn brakes on that fantasy, will you already? I'm sick of it."

Appearing genuinely confused, she asked, "What fantasy?"

"I'm a cop," he rasped, "nothing more and nothing less. What I do doesn't even put a dent in the shit going on in our world. So quit deluding yourself—about me and about everything else."

She sighed again, this time in exasperation. "You refuse to soften up even a little?"

And Parker, being too tired and too horny to think straight, stared at her mouth and said, "Honey, right now, I'm about as far from soft as a man can get."

Chapter Three

Lily knew when to take advantage of a propitious moment, and after Parker's bold admission, it wouldn't get much more propitious than right this very second.

Tonight, more so than at any other time, Parker needed her. Pressing into him so that she felt the hard length of his erection against her belly, she whispered, "Please kiss me."

"Lily, damn it…"

She smiled—and closed her fingers around him.

Parker sucked in a startled breath. His erection pulsed, grew bigger. "Stop."

Very gently, she said, "No."

"Lily." He said her name like a warning.

Loving him more by the second, Lily caressed him, squeezed him…

And he broke. A growl rumbled from deep in his throat. His jaw locked. All his muscles went taut. And he rasped, "I give up."

Crushing her mouth under his, he moved forward, driving against her until it was her back pressed to the wall—with Parker firmly against her front.

Lord, she'd unleashed a storm. And she loved it. He tasted good. And he knew how to kiss. Or devour. Whatever. Lily couldn't breathe and didn't care.

With one hand curved around her nape, he held her head still while his tongue delved into her mouth. With the other hand, he felt her. Everywhere.

Lily moaned.

From the moment she'd met Parker, so strong, so quiet and honorable and caring, he'd touched her heart. He was every woman's dream, a hero, a real man, exactly what the world needed, exactly what she wanted.

His fingers tightened in her hair, but she didn't flinch away. He kissed her throat, nuzzled against her ear while urgently kneading her breasts.

"Is this what you want?" The low, rough words sent a shiver down her spine.

"Yes."

His groan drowned out her gasp of pleasure. He took her mouth again, stifling her excited cries as he groped over her backside, her belly, and finally between their bodies to cup her mound.

"And this?" His fingers pressed.

The sensation was so erotic, Lily tore her mouth away and gasped.

With fierce intensity, Parker watched her. His eyes were burning and bright, his expression dark and hard. He looked wild—and he looked turned-on.

He looked determined.

Wow. Barely forming the words around her escalating need, Lily whispered, "I've never had angry sex before." She swallowed, lightly touched his jaw. "I … I like it."

In the blink of an eye, Parker changed, pulling back to let her breathe, his scowl lifting. He looked at her eyes, her mouth. After several deep breaths, he put his forehead to hers. "Either tell me to stop, or plan on getting fucked. Your choice."

Poor Parker. She knew which choice he'd prefer her to make. She licked her lips. "Your room or mine?"

Accepting the inevitable, Parker squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them again. He hefted Lily over his shoulder, feeling like a deranged caveman, and not caring.

She reared up. "Parker."

"You had your chance." He cupped her rounded backside to keep her still, and he liked that enough that he fondled her as he strode into his bedroom. He'd wanted Lily too long to dredge up any nobility now.

Lily, hanging upside down, said, "Finally."

He tossed her onto his bed, bent one knee on the mattress beside her, and tackled the fastenings to her jeans. Urgency pounded in his brain. Need clawed through him.

"Lift your hips."

She did, and he stripped off her jeans. Her panties were white with candy canes all over them. He could see the shadowing of her pubic hair beneath. He could smell her aroused scent.

Ravenous and out of control, Parker gripped the hem of her sweater and yanked it up and over her head.

She covered herself with her arms. "No fair. You have to take something off, too."

God, she had a beautiful body. Staring at her belly, he muttered, "Right. Whatever." Nearly blind with lust, Parker shoved to his feet, stripped his T-shirt off over his head and, staring at her body, shoved out of his jogging pants and boxers.

Lily started to sit up to look at him, but he said, "No way." He tumbled her backward onto the mattress and worked her panties down her legs. A little finesse wouldn't have hurt, but he couldn't dredge up even an ounce. The fact that he wasn't yet inside her showed remarkable restraint, as much as he could muster.

Her bra nearly ripped under his fumbling hands, but within seconds he had her naked. He wanted to touch and taste her all over, and to that end, he fell on her like a marauding berserker, his mouth at her throat, her shoulder, his hands sliding over warm skin and soft curves.

Lily laughed as he touched her everywhere. For only a moment, he suckled a nipple, and enjoyed her rising sounds of excitement. But at any moment, he'd lose it, so he levered up on one stiffened arm, opened her thighs and, breathing hard, stared at her pink sex while sliding one finger deep.

"Parker." She arched up. Wet, hot.

Ready.

Breathing raggedly, he found a rubber in the night-stand, rolled it on, and then he was over her, groaning, on fire at the feel of her silky flesh, her stiffened nipples, the warmth between her thighs.

He closed his mouth over hers, stroking with his tongue while pressing into her, rocking deeper and deeper until she'd accepted all of him. Her slim arms wound around his neck, her ankles locked at the small of his back, and damn it all, he started coming.

He threw his head back, managed to growl out "Sorry," while thrusting deep and hard, giving over to the draining of tension and anger and regret, and accepting the pervading numbness, the awesome calm.

Vaguely, he felt Lily's hands touch his chest, cup his jaw. He heard her gentle sigh, and when he sank onto her, wrung out, shot to hell, he noted the soft kiss to his shoulder.

The events of the day got the better of him, and Parker had only enough wits left to roll off to her side, sprawling on his back, before sleep claimed him.

Smiling like a goof, Lily lay there while her heart continued a mad gallop. She could easily guess how Parker would react to his carnal faux pas when he awoke. He was such a big, macho guy, so determined to always be strong and honorable. Leaving her would probably seem the ultimate insult to him.

She turned her head to look at him, and the smile faded to tenderness. God, he was so sexy, even now while dead to the world. And she wanted him so much. Her belly tingled and her thighs trembled and her breasts ached. But she could wait until he awoke. Even heroes needed sleep.

Carefully turning toward him and lifting to one elbow, she touched him, smoothing back his dark brown hair. To her surprise, his green eyes snapped open and stared right at her. But they looked more blank than aware, and suddenly he mumbled something unintelligible and dragged her close. Lily found herself cradled to his warm chest, one muscled arm around her back, one heavy leg over hers.

She couldn't move.

But then, she didn't want to. It was too early for her, but after a while, sleep beckoned, and she relaxed enough to drift off.

The lights were still on when Lily awakened, but she sensed a lot of time had passed. A distinct chill filled the air—and a warm, wet mouth tugged at her breast.

Her eyes widened. "Parker?"

"You betcha." A teasing tongue licked across her chest, then curled around her other nipple. "You let me fall asleep."

Her breath caught. "I don't think I could have stopped you."

"I'm a pig. Mmmm, you taste good." And he started sucking at her breast again.

Shockwaves of pleasure moved over her, reigniting her earlier arousal. She tunneled her fingers into his hair. "What time is it?"

"Who cares?" And then, "Open your legs."

Wow, he sure had awakened with a "prove-himself" attitude. "Why?"

"I want to finger you. I want to feel you and get you off, and then find another rubber and take you again. The right way. The way you deserve. The way I've been thinking about for months."

She shouldn't have asked. Heat throbbed beneath her skin—and she opened her legs.

"Nice." His hands were big and rough, and he knew what to do and how to do it. "Poor baby," he crooned, while touching her intimately. "You fell asleep all hot and wet, didn't you?"

Lily couldn't talk, not with his fingers moving over her like that, pressing into her and retreating and teasing…

"I should be shot. How does this feel?" Parker pushed two fingers deep, stretching her, carefully thrusting, and then his thumb rolled over her clitoris.

Her muscles jolted in reaction, stealing her breath so that she couldn't answer.

Voice low and thick with satisfaction, he whispered, "You like that, Lily."

She arched her neck and managed a small sound of agreement.

Parker smiled against her breast. "I'll make this good for you."

And true to his word, he kept up the wonderful foreplay until her entire body burned.

"Come for me, Lily. Let me redeem myself."

Such idiocy! How could he blather on while she—oh God. Tension suddenly gripped her and her fingers bit into his hard, sleek shoulders while her hips lifted in rhythm. Pleasure rolled through her, and then, by small degrees, ebbed away, leaving her limp.

Before she could open her heavy eyes, Parker rose over her, kneeing her legs apart to press into her, deep and deeper still. With his warm breath coming fast, he cupped her face and kissed her gently. "Just relax," he instructed, "and I'll take care of you."

"Protection?"

"Already in place." He leisurely kissed her, long and slow and consuming, then kept on kissing her. He filled her. His heat and scent surrounded her. Yet other than his tongue, he didn't move an inch.

Lily shifted her hips, felt the sweet friction of his erection inside her, and decided moving was a good thing. But when she tried it, Parker pressed down, holding her still.

She pried her mouth away from his. "Parker…"

"Shhh." He kissed her throat, took a soft love bite of her shoulder. "I want you to be with me this time."

"I am."

"Not yet."

Ready to press the issue, Lily trailed her fingers over his chest—and got her hands pinned above her head.

"Behave," he admonished, then his attention caught on her breasts, and he lowered his head to tongue a stiffened nipple.

She couldn't move at all, not with his hips between her thighs, his weight holding her down, her hands restrained by his. It was frustrating. And a turn-on. And she didn't want to wait anymore.

"I'm ready, Parker." And to taunt him into action, she said, "Remember, I'm younger than you. I recover quicker."

His head shot up. "I'm the one who woke you."

"I know." She stared at his mouth, a little breathless, a lot in love. "Now show me what you can do."

He seemed to harden even more, his expression, his muscles, the erection deep inside her. One side of his mouth curled in a predatory smile. "You want to come, is that it?"

"I want you to love me."

Her deliberate wording took him off guard. But Lily held his gaze, letting him form his own conclusions. No matter how he took it, he'd be right.

Releasing her wrists, his eyes locked on hers, Parker trailed his hands down to her thighs. He hooked his elbows beneath her knees, lifted her legs high, and tilted her hips up so that he sank into her even more.

Breath catching on a gasp, Lily braced her hands on his shoulders—but she didn't look away from him.

Without a word, he began a steady rhythm that gained in strength with each thrust. Harder, deeper. Gaze burning, Parker watched her. His hair hung over his brow, his shoulders strained, every muscle delineated.

Lily came first, the release taking her by storm, forcing a high cry from her throat.

Parker muffled his answering groan against her shoulder. They went limp, arms and legs tangled, hearts beating together. Lily had to bite her lip to keep from telling Parker about her feelings. She'd been half in love with him a week after making his acquaintance. Since then, she'd fallen a little more in love every day.

Now that they'd been intimate … well, she just couldn't imagine any other man in her life.

When her breathing calmed enough so that she could speak, she turned her head and saw the clock. Two A.M. She smiled and whispered, "It's Christmas Eve, Parker."

He grunted, struggled up to his elbows, and stared down at her. He wanted to say something, Lily could tell, and she held her breath, waiting.

But then he shook his head, kissed the end of her nose, and rolled out of her arms and out of the bed.

"Be right back," he said, and she watched the muscles flex in his shoulders, butt, and thighs as he left for the bathroom.

Should she get up, dress, and leave? Should she ask to stay? Would he tell her to leave?

She heard running water and splashing, the flush of the toilet, and she got up to take her own turn in the bathroom. Parker paused to absorb the sight of her nude body as she passed him in the hall. He didn't touch her, and he didn't say anything.

When she returned to the bedroom, the lights were out, but she could see the distinct shape of his long body beneath the covers.

She'd almost figured out what to say when he lifted the blankets aside to invite her in.

"Come here," he said. "It's cold. I don't want you to get ill."

Relieved, Lily slid in beside him, felt his arms close around her, and wanted to melt in contentment. She could do this every night, for the rest of her life, and never have a moment's regret.

"Happy birthday, Lily."

She smiled. "You make a heck of a birthday present."

He grunted, already more asleep than awake. She shouldn't push her luck, but… "Would you do me a really huge favor?"

His hand coasted down her back to her bottom. "If it's sexual, I'm your man."

She laughed, but quickly grew serious again. "It has to do with Christmas Eve."

His arms tightened. "Thank God, I'm off for a week. I'm going to unplug the phone so my mother and sister can't nag at me, then I'm going to watch television and pretend it isn't a holiday guaranteed to bring about depression and desperation."

Not a very promising start, Lily thought. She toyed with his chest hair and purposely misled him. "I don't get together with my family till Christmas Day, and I don't want to be alone. Will you spend the day with me?"

The seconds ticked by with no reply, and Lily wondered if he went to sleep. Or maybe she'd angered him by pushing.

Finally, he said, "As long as it doesn't involve shopping, wrapping, singing, or celebrating, then yeah, I'd enjoy your company."

She'd already done the shopping and wrapping, the choir didn't need him, and celebrating was something done in the heart, so she'd leave that up to him to work out. "Thank you."

His rock hard shoulder moved beneath her head. "I figure I owe you, anyway."

Furious, she bolted upright. "I made love with you, Parker. I didn't do you a damn favor."

Eyes glittering in the dark, he said, "I was talking about my earlier insult."

Blast. A little sheepish, she asked, "Which one?"

"Where I accused you of being a hooker."

"Oh." Lily resettled herself against him. "Now you know how ridiculous that was."

His hand slid down the length of her spine. "I dunno. I think you'd make a heck of a living selling this sweet little body."

"Flatterer." She kissed his chest and hugged him. "Seriously, after being considered a meal ticket, it's kind of nice to be viewed as a…" She grinned. "Sexpot, instead."

Parker swatted her ass. "Keep it up, Lily. I'm older and wiser, and have developed innovative ways to get even." His palm smoothed over the sting on her cheek, and he added, "In the morning, after I'm rested up, I'll make you pay for those taunts."

And Lily, more content than she'd ever been in her life, whispered, "Promises, promises." But already, Parker's breath had evened into sleep.

His paybacks would have to wait, because in the morning, she planned to show him how special the holidays could be. Then she planned to steal his heart. This Christmas, she wanted it all.

She wanted Parker Ross.

Chapter Four

The second Parker awoke, he knew she was gone. He sat up, saw the clock, and groaned. Noon. Jesus, she'd worn him out.

He rubbed his tired face—and smelled cookies baking.

He heard Christmas music. He heard Lily singing again.

So she hadn't gone home. No, she'd just left his bed to bake. His heart softened.

Shit, the last thing a cop needed was a soft heart.

He felt old, damn it. What happened to the days when he could put in a long shift, make love for hours after, and still greet the morning with boundless energy?

Long gone, apparently, considering his blurry brain and gritty eyes and aching muscles.

Yet, in stark contrast, Lily was up and singing and baking.

Determined to match her, Parker threw the covers aside and stalked to the closet. But all he saw were dark suits, navy blue and brown, and they all looked too … dated. The differences in their lives showed even in his friggin' closet.

But … did he still care about that?

He sniffed the air again, smelled the cookies, and shook his head. Screw the clothes and age differences.

He wanted Lily.

Bypassing the dresser drawers that held his jeans and shorts, he walked into his kitchen—and got a very pleasant surprise.

Wearing one of his shirts and nothing more, Lily bent at the stove to remove a cookie sheet. Man. What a wake-up call.

Sneaking up behind her, his approach muffled by the music, Parker waited until she'd set the hot baking sheet aside, then slid his hands around to her belly and pulled her back against his chest. "Good morning," he rumbled.

"Hey, sleepyhead." She turned in his arms, saw his nude body, and her jaw loosened. "You're … naked."

"Really?" He looked down at himself and said, "Damn, I forgot pants."

She returned his teasing look. "Parker."

"Doesn't matter. You look better in my clothes than I do anyway."

Hands opening on his chest, she whispered, "Hey, I wasn't complaining," and she treated him to a killer kiss that chased away the rest of the cobwebs and gave him a lethal Jones. "Coffee?"

He shook his head and snagged her close again. "Sex."

Laughing, she darted out of reach. "Your hair's standing on end, you've got enough whiskers to remove a layer of my hide, and I have more cookies to bake."

Damn. Rubbing his chin, he realized she was right. He turned away, intent on one thing. "Fine. I'll be back for the coffee in ten. Finish up your cookies."

"But…"

"You wanted me. Well, now you've got me." He sent her a quick wink. "Wait for me in the bed."

Parker closed the bathroom door on her laughter. But he realized he was smiling, too. She made him feel lighthearted, when he hadn't thought that possible, especially during the holidays.

True to his word, Parker opened the bathroom door only ten minutes later. He spotted her sitting in the middle of the bed, and like a fantasy from a dream, he started toward her, steam billowing out around him, trailing in his wake. His stride was long and sure, his whiskers gone, his wet hair combed back.

Still naked.

Yearning curled inside her, and Lily knew it'd be so easy to stray off course, to forget her plans and wallow in the sensuality he offered.

But as much as he tempted her, as much as she wanted him at that very moment, she also wanted more. She wanted forever.

She started to tell him that they needed to talk, but Parker didn't give her a chance. He never slowed, and his steely gaze never wavered. His big hands landed on her shoulders, driving her down to the mattress, and his mouth swallowed her gasp. She found herself flat on her back, covered by hot, aroused male.

"Parker," she moaned.

"Now that I've had you," he whispered near her ear, "I want you even more."

Given his confession, there probably wouldn't be a better time to segue into a discussion on their future.

Lily closed her eyes, drew a deep breath, and said, "You think you'll want me in a year? Or five? Or…"

He pushed back from her, but Lily kept her eyes closed, too cowardly to look at him, too afraid she'd see his discomfort, or worse, outright rejection.

His lips brushed hers, his hand cradled her face. "What are you talking about, Lily?"

Well, shoot. She'd have to open her eyes for that. She peeked, and saw he looked merely curious, a little tender, still really turned-on. Not annoyed. Not angry.

Turning her face to the side, she nodded at the large memory book on his nightstand. "I have a gift for you."

Now he frowned. "We agreed—no gifts."

"No, we agreed no singing or wrapping or … whatever. Besides, it's not that type of gift."

Warily, he glanced at the nightstand. "A photo album?"

"Memory book."

Both hands cupped her face. "Let's make some new memories. Starting right now." And he tried to kiss her again.

Lily pressed her head back into the pillow. "This is important to me, Parker."

"God I hate when women say that."

For that, she gave him a shove. "It could be important to you, too, if you'd stop being such a grinch and just listen."

Growling out a complaint, Parker rolled onto his back and covered his face with a forearm. "Okay, let me have it. This is about Christmas, isn't it?"

Slowly, Lily sat up. Parker looked far from receptive, but still she reached for the heavy leather-bound book and cradled it in her lap. As always, touching it, thinking about it, made her sentimental and reflective. Poignant memories brought a lump to her throat and tied her stomach in knots. "There are … some things about me that I think you should know. Things that might make a difference."

His arm dropped away, and his expression filled with concern. "What is it?"

Heart pounding, chest tight with nervousness because this was so important, Lily stared into his beautiful eyes. Strong, tall, protective Parker—how could he not know the difference he made to so many?

Tears welled, and Lily dabbed at her eyes, trying to laugh, trying to dredge up that carefree attitude that he seemed to dislike so much.

"Oh, Jesus, honey, no." In a rush, Parker sat up beside her. He looked crushed as he smoothed her hair and kissed her forehead. "I can't take it. Please don't cry."

"I'm sorry." Darn it, she sounded like a strangling frog. "Ignore the tears."

"That's impossible." He tipped up her chin, his expression full of compassion and concern and heart-wrenching tenderness. "Is this about Christmas? It is, isn't it? I shouldn't have been such an ass. If you really want me to wrap presents, I will. Hell, I'll even help you with the cookies. Just don't cry anymore."

Wonderful, special Parker. "It's not about cookies or material gifts. It's about the holiday spirit, the kindness of strangers." She drew a deep breath. "Without that kindness, I wouldn't be here."

A strange stillness settled over him. "What do you mean you wouldn't be here? What the hell are you talking about?"

She could never think of the generosity of the human spirit without an excess of emotion. Even as she smiled, the tears trickled down her cheeks, shaming her for being such a sentimental sap, especially since she knew Parker didn't feel the same. "I would have died, Parker. My mother, too."

For several strained moments, Parker said nothing, he just breathed deep and fast, as if her statement had left him shaken. Then he pulled her into his lap, tucked her head under his chin, and said, "Okay, I'm listening. Tell me."

Hopeful, Lily opened the book. On the first page was the most important article, but she flipped past it. It was special, so she'd save it until the end.

"See this one?" The headline read, "Man Honored for Act of Heroism." Lily explained, "The woman had a seizure and her car struck a gas pump. Flames were everywhere. The people close by could see that her doors were stuck, trapping her inside."

Parker read aloud, "Phil Benton pulled Margery Wilson from her burning car, disregarding his own peril. Moments after freeing her, the gas tank exploded."

Lily sighed. "It was Christmas Day. Mr. Benton was on his way home to his wife and children. Their dinner was ruined because he spent several hours at the hospital."

"He was hurt?"

She shook her head and forced the words out around the lump of emotion clogging her throat. "No. He stayed with Margery because otherwise, she'd have been all alone. When the hospital released her, he took her home and she had Christmas dinner with his family."

In pensive silence, Parker smoothed his hand up and down Lily's back.

She turned the page to another headline. "High School Student Survives Gunshot Wound," she read. "In a true act of heroism, high school senior Dennis Clark came to the aid of his best friend during an armed attack on Christmas Day."

"I remember that one," Parker remarked quietly. "The kid protected his friend after two masked guys had beat him unconscious and tried to rob him. He got shot in the shoulder." He stared at the photo that accompanied the article. "It was touch and go for a while there."

Lily nodded. "He still has the bullet in his shoulder."

On a deep breath, Parker whispered, "And he still has his best friend."

Pleased that he'd see that way, Lily smiled. "Yes." She showed Parker one article after another. Twenty pages worth—and that was only one of her albums. She had others. Maybe someday she'd be able to go through them all with him.

Finally, after working up her nerve, she turned back to the first article and trailed her fingers lightly over the page. "This one is mine."

Parker stared first at her, his eyes seeing into her soul, his expression one of dawning comprehension before he gave his attention to the faded newsprint.

In his deep, quiet voice, he read, "Detective's Heroism Saves Pregnant Woman." He paused, tightening his hold on her. "Your mother?"

More tears blurred Lily's vision. "She was a nurse on call. That Christmas, we had almost three feet of snow, then a layer of ice. A lot of streets were closed. The salt trucks couldn't keep up."

"But she was a nurse, so she braved the weather."

"Yes." Lily laid her head on his shoulder. "Mom had just parked in the upper level of the garage and taken off her seat belt when … one of the road crew trucks clearing the garage lost control. It started sliding in the ice and the driver couldn't stop it or steer it away from her. It happened so fast…"

"Damn."

"It slammed into her car. The impact of the collision ejected her head first through the windshield. But that wasn't the worst of it. She landed on the garage floor and the salt truck rolled over her, snagging her underneath it before crashing through the guardrail. It didn't go completely over the side to the level below. It sort of just hung there, keeping her trapped."

The room grew so quiet, Lily could hear her own heartbeat and sense Parker's dread.

"Mom wasn't able to breathe. She was pretty broken up, with multiple system traumas and several fractures, including a skull fracture. And at any moment, that truck could have fallen to the parking level below." In a whisper, Lily added, "She would have been crushed. We know that."

Again, Parker's arms tightened on her, and he sounded almost as pained as she felt whenever reciting the story. "But someone saved her."

Turning her face up to his, Lily smiled. "A detective … like you." She turned back to the article and touched it with reverent fingertips. "The crash drew a lot of attention. Hospital staff ran out, but no one knew for sure what to do. It was such a dangerous situation. Anyone who got too close would be putting his life on the line. The detective didn't hesitate though. Knowing there wouldn't be much time left before Mom suffocated, he worked his way under the truck with a bag mask. My mother says she can still remember his calm voice commanding her to take slow, easy breaths, to hang on…" Lily gulped on her tears. "He told her everything would be okay—and she believed him."

His face buried in her neck, Parker asked, "You weren't hurt?"

"No." Lily gave a watery laugh. "They delivered me that day by emergency C-section, almost at the same time they were patching up Mom. I was small, but healthy."

Thank God."

"And the cop who helped her." She snuggled closer to him. "He waited, you know. To make sure she'd be all right. To be there with her in case she needed him again. Mom says when she talked to him later, he said all he could think of was his own pregnant wife at home and how Christmas wouldn't be the same without her."

The seconds ticked by, and Lily's anxiety grew. She had no idea what Parker felt, what he thought, if baring her heart had made a difference to him.

Then she felt Parker nuzzling her hair, and he asked, "Did you feel that?"

Confused, Lily pushed back to peek up at him. "What?"

With the utmost care, he cradled her face in his hand and smiled. "The way my heart just grew ten times its size?"

Lily twisted in his lap to face him. "What are you talking about?"

He smiled gently, wiped away her tears. "Don't you remember the Grinch, when the true meaning of Christmas finally hit him, and his heart all but exploded in his chest?"

Lily started breathing too fast. "I remember."

"Well, that's what it feels like to me right now. Like my heart is so full, my ribs just might break." He kissed the end of her nose. "Damn, Lily, I've been an ass."

"You have not!"

"I love you."

She stared, stunned silly, speechless.

"Hell, I've loved you for a long time but didn't want to admit it." Parker shook his head and smiled at her. "I thought you were too young, too fanciful, and way too damn happy to suit me. All that optimism scared me, I guess because it emphasized how damn pessimistic I've become."

"You're not a pessimist. You're a hero."

He grinned at her, shook his head. "I wanted to be, but I could never tell if I made a difference."

"And now?"

"Now I'm so glad, so grateful, that you're here. That you're in my life. I make a difference to you, and that has to count for something, right?"

"You make a difference to everyone, Parker." Hope burgeoning, she bit her lip. "You really love me?"

"Yeah, I really do. It took me long enough to realize it, but I figure it has to be love. Nothing else could make me feel like this."

"And…" She hated to push him, but she couldn't stop herself. "You believe in the Christmas spirit?"

"You're here with me, in my bed, sharing your life. Sharing you. How could I not believe? You're my own special Christmas miracle."

Happiness bubbled inside her.

"You should be in that memory book too, because, Lily, you saved me." He turned on the bed, positioning her beneath him and getting comfortable. "It's so damn easy to get jaded, to focus on the disappointments instead of the triumphs. It's so easy to lose sight of the important things."

"Like love?"

"Like you. And sharing the holidays with friends and family."

She touched the corner of his mouth. "Speaking of friends and family…"

He laughed. "Maybe we should divide Christmas between my folks and yours. It'll probably send my poor mother into a faint, but I'm in a mood for her Christmas dinner. And I want to meet this remarkable mother of yours. And—"

Squealing in delight, Lily threw her arms around him and squeezed him tight. "Your heart really did grow, didn't it?"

"Enough to help you at the shelter." He kissed her. "Enough to start enjoying my job again." Another kiss, this one longer. "And enough to accept that I love you—now, tomorrow, and for the rest of our lives."

Contentment settled over her. "I love you, too."

"Let's go shopping."

Given their current position—in a bed, with her under him—Lily laughed. "You want to shop now?"

"Yeah. For the first time in ages, I'm in the mood to buy gifts." His gaze warmed. "For you."

"Oh, Parker." Lily turned to mush. "I have you, and that's surely the best Christmas gift ever."