Seduced

Chapter 9

"Are you coming?"

Startled by the question and the connotation behind it, Jessica snapped herself out of the private, erotic fantasies that had consumed her thoughts ever since her tryst with Ryan at his office five days ago. She glanced toward her sister, who was looking at her oddly.

Those sexy daydreams were going to get her into trouble, if they hadn't already. Had Brooke recognized the flush on her skin as sexual arousal, which she seemed to be in a constant state of lately? Had she made some kind of peculiar noise that had tipped her sister off to the provocative scenarios filling her head?

Jessica's heart beat triple time. Her body tingled with a desire that had yet to be fully appeased, and her face inflamed with guilt at being caught making love to Ryan in her mind-with her sister standing three feet away, her expression now concerned.

"Excuse me?" She winced as her voice came out as a high-pitched squeak.

Brooke's frown deepened. "I said, I'm going into the dressing room to try these on." She indicated the outfits hanging over both of their arms that they'd chosen for Ryan's New Year's Eve party. "Are you coming?"

"Oh," she breathed, the sound relieved. Her sister's question was completely innocent. It washer brain that was overloaded with sinful, lustful scenarios.

She glanced at her own selection, and knowing she wasn't in the frame of mind to continue searching through the racks in the boutique, she nodded in answer. She followed Brooke into the changing area, and they each took their own spacious rooms next to the other. Jessica hung her dresses on the hook by the door, refraining from looking into the two-way mirror because she didn't want to get lost in another fantasy, and pulled her sweatshirt over her head to change.

"You know, you've been distracted all day," Brooke said, her voice drifting over the partition separating them. "First at lunch, and now here. Is everything okay, Jess?"

"I'm fine," she said automatically, and reached for the first dress, a red sequined number that sparkled and shimmered and had a life of its own. Her assurance was meant to appease her sister, because Jessica wasn't ready to divulge the truth, that emotionally she'd been feeling mixed up and confused over Ryan Matthews. Not to mention feeling so sexually charged, she was sure her years of deprivation had finally caught up to her with a vengeance.

She wanted to make love with Ryan, and after what they'd shared at his office, she knew she was ready to take that next step. Except she'd started her period, and still had another three days to go before everything was back to normal, which meant she wouldn't be able to seduce him until after Christmas. It had been incredibly frustrating two days ago, when things had gotten hot and heavy between her and Ryan at his house and she'd had to put the brakes on any intimate foreplay. He'd been understanding, and incredibly patient, but she couldn't say the same about herself.

The thought of going all the way with Ryan was both a scary and exciting prospect-scary because he made her feel more than any man ever had, cherished and desired. Yet despite how compatible they were, she'd witnessed his dedication to his job, in the time he spent at the office after hours handling a case, and weekend work. She knew his career would always come before her, or a relationship, and she accepted that, too. Ultimately, that knowledge kept her from doing something incredibly foolish… like depend on him. Or worse, fall in love with him. In the meantime, she was determined to indulge in everything he had to offer, because in another week and a half, their affair would be nothing more than a glorious memory for her.

"Are yousure you're okay?" Brooke persisted.

Ignoring the emotion knotting her throat, Jessica slipped the fancy dress on and adjusted the material over her hips. Drawing a deep breath, she summoned a light tone. "Brooke, stop worrying about me."

"You know I can't help it," her sister replied affectionately.

Jessica smiled, accepting that her sister's protective habits were ingrained since childhood, and Jessica would probably live the rest of her life with Brooke fussing over her. "Yeah, I know."

They exited the rooms to admire each other's outfits in the large, communal mirror in the dressing area. Brooke agreed with Jessica's assessment that the beads and sequins on her dress were too much for her taste, and the gold dress Brooke had selected did nothing to accentuate her figure.

They returned to their rooms for round two.

"So, what did you decide to do for Christmas?" Brooke asked.

Jessica winced. It had been too much to hope that her sister wouldn't inquire about her plans. "Actually, I was invited to spend the holiday with a friend's family." When in reality, she'd beencoerced into it in a very delicious, tantalizing manner.

"Oh." Brooke sounded surprised. "Anyone I know?"

Jessica closed her eyes, silently asking for forgiveness for her fib. "No, it's a friend from one of the medical offices I do transcripts for." She had no choice but to stretch the truth, because her sister would be all over her for details if she so much as suspected that something was going on between her and Ryan. And there was no sense involving Brooke when the relationship was only temporary.

They met at the mirror again, this time with Brooke wearing a leopard print dress that was too tight across the bodice and puckered at the zipper, and Jessica in a pale gray jersey that did nothing for her complexion. With a shake of both of their heads, they returned to change into their next outfits.

Jessica slipped into her next dress, a vibrant, royal-blue silky sheath that caressed her skin in a very luxurious way. She thought about Ryan, and what he'd think of the dress, and suspected he'd be more interested in finding out what she wore beneath it.

A shiver stole through her, and without thinking she asked her sister a question that had been on her mind since her discussion with Ryan in his office about relationships. "Brooke… how did you know that Marc wasthe one?"

There was a quiet pause from her sister's dressing room, then, "Why do you ask?"

"Just curious," she replied, though she knew her inquiry wasn't as simple as that. She needed to know what made a woman give her heart to a man, not that she intended to give Ryan hers, of course.

"Well, quite honestly I didn't know Marc wasthe one, not until I'd almost lost him and came to realize just how much I loved him." Brooke laughed lightly. "And it took him a while to come around, too, if you'll recall."

Jessica smiled, remembering Marc's reluctance, and his belief that Brooke was better off without him. Now, it was hard to imagine the two ever being apart. "But didn't you love Eric, too?" She had to bring up Brooke's first husband, unable to stop her own personal doubts from creeping into the conversation.

"Well, of course I did, but sometimes people don't have the same expectations of a relationship, and Eric and I realized that we married for the wrong reasons. Unfortunately, it happens sometimes, just like with Mom and Dad." There was the faint sound of material rustling and settling into place, then Brooke continued. "It's hard to explain, Jess, but I love Marc in such a way that I can't imagine living without him. When you meet the right guy, you'll justknow."

A lump formed in Jessica's throat, one she had trouble swallowing back. She absorbed her sister's words, wondering if maybe her expectations were unrealistic. Wondering, too, if she'd ever be able to put such unconditional faith and trust in a man for her happiness, as Brooke had with Marc. The prospect made her stomach clench, and brought on a tidal wave of fears and insecurities she'd been clinging to since the day her father had turned his back on their family. She'd trusted him, believed in him, and she'd never forgiven him for callously destroying her safe, secure haven.

Brooke knocked on her door, jarring Jessica out of her painful memories. "Hey, are you changed yet?" she asked.

"Just a sec." Pushing those disturbing thoughts from her mind, Jessica exited the dressing room and met Brooke at the mirror.

She gazed at their reflections, seeing past the outfits they wore. While she and Brooke were similar in looks, and they'd gone through the same childhood turmoil, they'd both reacted differently to the experience. Brooke made the best of situations, opting toward making responsible, sensible and pragmatic decisions. Jessica was practical, too, but had discovered it was easier, and less painful, if she safeguarded her heart and emotions.

And that explained why she was still alone and single, she knew. And she also knew and accepted that with Ryan's goals, profession and carefree outlook on relationships that he wasn't the kind of man she could have a future with, either. He'd made her no promises, and that was probably for the best, for both of them.

But that knowledge only served to make her more determined to take what Ryan was offering, and enjoy what she could of their affair.

She focused on the images of her and Brooke and the dresses they wore, both of which complemented their figures and complexions perfectly. Jessica smiled. "Well?"

"What do you think?" her sister asked at the same moment.

They both looked into the mirror, then at each other.

"You look fabulous," they echoed in unison, and laughed.

"Ho, Ho, Ho! Merry Christmas!"

The deep, baritone voice resounded in the Matthews' spacious family room where everyone was gathered. Jessica watched in amazement and delight as Ryan's five nieces and nephews stopped whatever they were doing and turned wide-eyed to the jolly man in red standing in the doorway, wearing a full white beard, gold-rimmed glasses, and carrying a bulging, red velvet sack over his shoulder.

"It's Santa!" three-year-old Alyssa breathed, as if she couldn't quite believe her eyes.

"He's here, he's here!" Six-year-old Richie squealed in unabashed excitement.

Total chaos erupted as four little kids stampeded toward "Santa" and clamored around him for attention. Max, the youngest at two, decided to observe from a distance, his gaze narrowed, as if he wasn't quite sure who the big, boisterous stranger was, or if he wanted to approach him just yet. The adults sat back and watched, letting the little guy make the decision for himself.

Courtney, one of Ryan's older sisters, slid into the empty seat beside Jessica and spoke out of the corner of her mouth. "You'd think that Jackie would figure out that Santa is really her Uncle Ryan, but for two years now she's been just as enthralled as the other kids."

Jackie, Jessica had learned, was seven years old, and though she seemed very mature for her age, when it came to believing in St. Nick, she was just as gullible as the others. "Sometimes it's hard to let go of that illusion," she replied, knowing she was speaking from her own childhood experiences. "And it's nice to see them enjoy it for as long as possible."

Courtney agreed, and they both turned their attention back to the Christmas Eve surprise unfolding for the little ones, none of whom had seemed to notice that Ryan had slipped out of the room twenty minutes ago, or that he wasn't currently present. Once "Santa" calmed the excited kids, he addressed them one at a time, letting each one sit on his lap and tell him what they wanted for Christmas. Then, he pulled out a special gift for them from his velvet bag, and went on to the next captivated child. His patience and affection for his nieces and nephews was apparent and made Jessica experience an odd tug near the vicinity of her heart.

Jennifer ripped open her present and gasped when she revealed what Santa had given her, which had been one of the things she'd just asked him for. Jessica smothered a grin-she and Ryan had gone toy shopping a few days ago with a list from his sisters of what the children wanted.

"Mom, Dad! Santa brought me the Herbee I asked for!" Jennifer cried jubilantly as she held up a small square box for everyone to see the furry, animated creature that spoke nonstop and was no doubt designed to drive an adult certifiably nuts.

"Thank you, Santa," Courtney said wryly, and Ryan replied with a hearty. "Ho, ho, ho," that had the other adults chuckling.

As Richie hopped off Santa's lap with his own gift and Alyssa climbed on, Ryan glanced Jessica's way, and their gazes met. His brown eyes twinkled just as merrily as his namesake, and the wink he gave her was very private and made her cheeks warm. Fortunately, everyone else in the room was preoccupied and hadn't witnessed the intimate exchange.

When they'd arrived at Ryan's parents' house four hours ago, Nancy and Conrad Matthews had welcomed her as if shewere part of their family, despite that Ryan had held true to his word and had introduced her simply as a friend. And though everyone had accepted his introduction without question, Jessica was fairly certain that his mother and sisters were wondering about the real scoop between her and Ryan. Knowing she'd probably never spend Christmas with his family again, she preferred that they believed his explanation.

She outright envied the love and security so evident in his family, how warm and supportive they seemed to be. They had fun together, they laughed and teased, and it was apparent that Ryan's mother took extra care in creating a holiday atmosphere meant to make lasting memories. Before Santa's arrival, the kitchen had been bustling-with finger foods and holiday treats to snack on, and with Jessica and Natalie helping the children to bake cookies to leave for St. Nick when they went to bed for the night.

The whole evening was magical and something Jessica knew she'd never forget. And for the first time since she was a little girl, she was wrapped up in the sense of belonging-and had to firmly remind herself that although Ryan had shared this holiday and his family with her, it wasn't something she'd be a part of in the future.

Jessica pulled her thoughts back to the present, and realized that all the kids had taken a turn with Santa, except for Max, who was still eyeing him warily from across the room. Wanting the little boy to share in the fun and spirit of St. Nick, she leaned forward until she caught Max's mom's attention.

"Can I take him to see Santa?" Jessica asked Lindsay.

The other woman smiled and nodded. "Go right ahead."

Jessica approached the toddler, and his big brown eyes, the same shade as his uncle's, darted from her to his mother. Lindsay must have silently reassured him somehow, because he visibly relaxed.

She squatted in front of him and gentled her voice. "You know, I've never met Santa personally, either, so what do you say we go together?"

Max swallowed and sneaked a peek at Santa, the yearning in his gaze clear. Seemingly deciding that he'd be safer with an escort, he nodded his head jerkily, and placed his tiny hand in hers.

Jessica accompanied Max to the man in red, and sat him on Ryan's knee, but remained close so the little boy didn't panic.

Santa patted Max's thigh in a gesture meant to reassure him. "I hear you've been a very good boy this year," Ryan said, his voice deliberately gruff to disguise it.

Max, eyes round as he stared at Ryan's huge white beard, nodded mutely.

"Would you like to tell me what you'd like for Christmas?"

Max shook his head "no" in response, still uncertain of this jolly, strange man.

"Well, I think I might have something in my bag that you'd like." Ryan withdrew the last gaily wrapped present, and handed it to Max.

"Thank you," the little boy whispered, then scrambled off Santa's lap and bolted for the safety of his father, Clive, who sat across the room watching the show.

Jessica stepped away to return to her seat, but a white-gloved hand caught her wrist, gently tugged her back, and she found herself sitting on Santa's very hard, muscular thigh. She gasped in surprise that he'd so openly flirt with her in front of his family when his behavior toward her had been platonic all evening.

A dark brow quirked over the rim of his ridiculous-looking spectacles. "So, has Jessica been naughty or nice this year?" he murmured, his deep, rich voice sending a shiver rippling down her spine.

She could feel a blush tingling along her skin, as well as the curious stares of his mother and sisters. Luckily, the kids were being so loud that it was impossible to hear her and Ryan's conversation.

"I've been so good that I'm probably one of the top ten names on your list." She grinned, and decided to turn the tables on him. "And what about yourself, Santa?"

He looked surprised at her direct challenge, then his eyes sparkled with a wicked, unrepentant light, and she knew trouble was heading her way. "Oh, definitely naughty. I'm expecting a lump of coal in my stocking this year, but all the fun I've had has been worth it."

She laughed, not wanting to think about the kind of "fun" Ryan might have indulged in. She was certainly well aware of how naughty he'd been with her. Feeling a little mischievous herself, she leaned close and whispered in his ear, "Naughty and nice can make for a very interesting combination."

He released a very hearty "ho, ho, ho," then added more privately, "I'll certainly keep that in mind when I bring youyour gift."

'Twasthe night before Christmas, and all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse… just Ryan.

It was aquarter until midnight, the house was dark and silent, and Ryan stealthily crept upstairs, avoiding the wooden planks he'd discovered as a teenager that creaked. He snuck past his parents' closed door, and continued down the hall past his sisters' rooms, where they slept with their husbands and kids, to his old bedroom where Jessica was sleeping for the night while he took the couch downstairs. Slipping quietly into the shadowed room, he moved toward the bed.

"Ryan?" came Jessica's husky whisper.

"Yeah, it's me," he confirmed, sitting on the edge of the mattress.

"What are you doing in here?" She propped herself up on her elbow, and the moonlight filtering through the window made her tousled, honey-blond hair shimmer around her shoulders. "It's nearlymidnight, and your parents are right down the hall-"

He pressed his fingers to her lips, stopping her chastisement. "Yeah, and you're gonna wake everyone up if you don't be quiet."

Her eyes widened slightly, and she pulled his hand away. "Ryan, I was just teasing about that naughty and nice thing. I mean, we can't do anythingnow, and especially not under your parents' roof."

She sounded so prim and proper, he couldn't help but grin. "Oh, I plan to take you up on your naughty and nice comment, but that's not why I'm here," he said, keeping his voice low. "I want you to come with me." He stood, and waited for her to do the same.

She frowned up at him. "Why?"

He propped his hands on his hips and exhaled a breath, summoning patience. Would she always question his motives? Would she ever believe and accept that his interest in her went beyond his original plan of seducing her?

"Because I asked," he said, deliberately vague. A simple issue of trust was at stake, and he wanted her to acknowledge that she trusted him, even on this small, insignificant issue.

After a brief hesitation, she tossed back the covers and slipped off the bed, garbed from neck to toes in a long-sleeved nightshirt, bottoms, and socks.

"Nice pajamas," he teased.

She scrunched her nose at him as her gaze took in his cotton shorts and T-shirt. "If you haven't noticed, it's winter, and flannel is warm."

"As an alternative, I suppose it suffices," he murmured. "But body heat can be just as effective."

She rolled her eyes at his innuendo, but accepted the hand he held out to her. Then, like two little kids wanting to catch Santa in action, they snuck back downstairs to the dark family room. Ryan hit a switch on the wall, and the lights on the Christmas tree came on, their twinkling colors providing a dazzling, magical atmosphere.

"What are you going to do?" Jessica asked in a hushed voice filled with amusement. "Find out which ones are your gifts and shake them?"

He chuckled. "No, you and I are going to put Santa's gifts under the tree, which has somehow become my job over the years. And then we have cookies to eat and milk to drink so the little imps upstairs will know that Santa was really here."

She glanced at the coffee table, where the kids had left a plate piled high with the sugar cookies they'd made that evening, and a glass of milk that had no doubt turned warm. A brief glimpse of melancholy flickered over her expression, but by the time she met his gaze again whatever emotional memory she'd been caught up in was gone.

She smiled at him. "Well, let's get started," she said, enthusiasm infusing her voice.

She followed him to the coat closet that doubled as a storage area under the stairs, and they spent the next half hour hauling presents out and placing them under the tree until the corner of the room was overflowing with gaily wrapped gifts. His sisters had left small bags of items to stuff in the kids' stockings, and by the time he and Jessica were done, it appeared that Santa had, indeed, paid a visit to the Matthews home.

"And now for the cookies," Jessica reminded him, caught up in the spirit of things, just as he'd intended.

After the snippets she'd revealed about her childhood, he'd suspected that it had been a long time since she'd enjoyed such frivolous fun, and it made his heart swell that he was able to share this with her. "Let me go get a fresh glass of milk."

He returned a minute later and sat beside her on the couch. The blinking lights from the tree cast pretty highlights in her hair, and made her eyes shimmer with the delight still lingering from their escapade of playing Santa's helpers.

He picked up a cookie sprinkled with red and green sugar, and popped the entire thing into his mouth and chewed. "I think this is the best part of Christmas."

She slanted him a curious look as she selected her own baked confection, then nibbled on it. "What? Eating the cookies?"

He shook his head, and washed down his bite with a drink of milk. "Knowing that the kids are going to come downstairs in the morning and see the gifts under the tree and the plate with crumbs on it, and truly believe that Santa was here." He filched another cookie, and thought about himself as a young boy on Christmas, so filled with energy and excitement, until he'd discovered the truth about St. Nick. "I remember I was so crushed when I learned there was no Santa Claus."

"How did you find out?" She shared his glass of milk, then licked the remaining droplets off her lips.

Ignoring the automatic desire that flared to life within him at Jessica's innocent gesture, he reminded himself that this weekend wasn't about the seduction they'd yet to consummate. Averting his attention, he took one of the remaining cookies between his fingers and crushed it to leave visible crumbs on the plate. "Well, I thought I'd be creative and test the Santa theory, and instead of leaving cookies for him, I insisted on making him a peanut butter and sardine sandwich."

"Oh, yuck." She blanched, her expression reflecting her disgust at the combination. "Were you trying to assure that Santa never paid another visit to your house?"

He chuckled. "Well, I remember thinking if the sandwich was gone, then there really was a Santa because he'd be so hungry from his trip around the world that he'd eat it, or feed it to Rudolph. But if it was still there in the morning, then there wasn't really a Santa, because no normal person would eat something so awful."

"Interesting theory," she said, her tone wry. "And what happened?"

"In the morning, it was gone." He licked the remnants of sugar from his fingers.

"Your parents ate it?" she asked incredulously.

"Not exactly." Grinning, he reclined against the sofa cushions and stacked his hands behind his head. "I found it in the trash. I was eight, and I think I was ready to discover the truth, but I was still crushed."

She nodded in understanding, and there was that melancholy again.

"What about you?" he asked, tugging on her pajama sleeve before she could emotionally retreat from him. "When did you discover that there wasn't really a Santa Claus?"

Sitting back, she drew her knees up on the couch and wrapped her arms around her legs. "Well, it was the year my parents divorced." She gave him a sad smile that made him ache for her. "I was nine years old, and after losing my father, believing in Santa Claus was just so important to me. A part of me knew he wasn't real, but I clung to the fairy tale."

With a soft sigh, she rested her chin on her knees and focused on the Christmas tree lights. "I remember asking for the newest, latest Barbie playhouse that was out at the time. It was really expensive, and Brooke kept giving me the spiel that Santa has a lot of kids to bring gifts to, and not all kids get what they want. She knew where the presents came from, and also knew I was in for a big letdown. Still, that was the only thing I put on my list, because I wanted so badly to believe that Santa was real, and that he'd bring me that one toy because I knew it was too expensive for my mother to afford."

She ducked her head so he couldn't see her face, but her trembling voice gave her away. "My mother was hardly ever home because she was working two jobs, and when I heard her come in on Christmas Eve after working her late shift at a restaurant, I snuck out to the living room and saw her sitting on the floor wrapping presents. And there, among a few inexpensive trinkets for me and Brooke was the Barbie playhouse I'd asked for. And in the morning, it had a tag on it that said, 'From Santa'."

Finally, she turned and looked at him, the moisture in her eyes revealing her inner pain. "As much as I loved my mother for scrimping and saving to give me my one wish, I stopped believing in a lot of things that Christmas."

Her anguish seemingly became his own, squeezing his chest tight, and the only thing he could think of was chasing away her misery and bad memories and giving her something she could cling to and depend on. Him.

"Jessie, sweetheart," he whispered, and reached for her, because mere words were inadequate to soothe her. She came into his embrace without resisting, burrowing into him like a lost soul seeking comfort. Wrapping an arm around her back and holding her close, he eased them both down onto the couch so she was lying between him and the cushions, cocooned in his warmth and strength.

She buried her face against his neck, and a great, big shuddering sigh wracked her entire body. Then, he felt the hot dampness of tears seeping through his T-shirt, and knew all he could do was just be there for her while she came to terms with the pain of her past.

He cuddled her close and watched the tree lights dance in front of them, stroking her side and hip through her flannel pajamas until her breathing grew deep and even and he knew she'd succumbed to peaceful sleep. In a few minutes, he'd wake her up and take her back to her room. In the meantime, he savored the feel of her, the jasmine scent of her hair and skin, and how perfectly she fit into his life… and he came to realize with a calm acceptance that despite not looking for love, he'd found it with her. And no matter what he had to do, he wanted to make room for her in his life, his future.

If only she'd allow him into her heart.

Jessica snuggled closer to the warm, masculine body next to hers, luxuriating in the sense of complete contentment and security enveloping her. Their sleeping quarters were cramped, but she didn't mind. Her head rested on Ryan's chest, her arm was slung over his stomach, and her legs entwined with his. A sleepy smile touched her lips when she realized that one of Ryan's hands was tangled in her hair, and his warm breath brushed across her temple.

She'd neverslept with a man before, nor had any man ever held her so tenderly, without expecting a sexual favor in return. And despite the desire that Ryan inspired, she liked the feeling of just being held in his arms, especially after last night and the desolate memories that had swamped her. He'd silently consoled her and allayed the loneliness that had been her constant companion for far too long.

Yet, she knew the isolation and solitude would return once he was no longer a part of her life. And as much as the thought of letting Ryan go hurt, she accepted it as inevitable, knowing their lives, their aspirations and dreams for the future, didn't mesh.

Ignoring the ache in her heart, she sighed and rubbed her cheek against his chest, focusing on the present and what they had in common-their attraction, desire and passion. And for now, for today and the next week, she planned to be greedy and experience it all. And then, when that awful loneliness settled in, she'd have wondrous memories to draw on, to keep her warm on the long, solitary nights ahead.

The sound of hushed whispers and stifled giggles reached past Jessica's musings, and brought her back to the present. She blinked her eyes open and found herself staring at Ryan's three nieces, who stood in front of the couch watching them sleep. From the other room, she could hear the adults approaching, too. Not sure how to handle the situation or explain their dilemma, even though they'd done nothing wrong, she gave Ryan a firm shake.

He awoke, slowly and lazily. His slumberous gaze met hers, and a sexy smile eased up the corners of his mouth. "Morning," he murmured.

Trying not to let that husky, intimate voice of his and just how gorgeous he looked first thing in the morning distract her, she nodded toward the trio in front of them. "Uh, we've got company."

Ryan turned his head, and though his body tensed with instant awareness, his expression gave nothing away. "Morning, girls," he said cheerfully.

"Uncle Ryan," Jackie said, a slight frown marring her brows. "How come you and Jessica are sleeping on the couch?"

"Well…" His voice trailed off as he obviously tried to conjure an excuse. Taking more time, he sat up, just as the rest of the Matthews clan converged in the family room. Surprise and speculation registered across everyone's faces at seeing them together, and Jessica felt her face flush at being caught in such an embarrassing predicament.

"Hey, did you two get to see Santa last night?" Ryan's sister Lindsay asked, amusement lacing her voice.

Alyssa's eyes rounded with hope at that thought. "Did you?"

Richie dashed past his father and raced into the room, dancing around the coffee table, pointing to the plate with the crumbs on it, and the empty milk glass. "Look, Santa ate the cookies and drank the milk! Did you see him, Uncle Ryan? Did you?"

Ryan dragged a hand through his tousled hair and grinned. "The thing is, Jessica and I snuck down here last night and tried to stay awake for Santa, but we were so tired that we just didn't make it." He shook his head regretfully.

"But look at all the presents he left," Jennifer said, scrambling over to the tree and the overflow of gifts. "Here's one for me, and one for Max, and one for Grandma…"

As the kids squealed in excitement and huddled around the tree, and the adults moved in to help sort and pass out the presents to the eager children, Ryan took the opportunity to grasp a private moment with Jessica.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, appearing contrite at the awkward situation he'd put her in. "I swear I didn't mean for us to fall asleep together and wake up with an audience."

She smiled to reassure him. "It's okay."

Uncaring of who might see the affectionate gesture, he stroked his knuckles down her cheek, then tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. "You ready to enjoy Christmas morning, Matthews style?"

She shivered at his touch, reveling in the warmth and tenderness in his gaze. "Yeah, I am."

And as she watched Ryan with his nieces and nephews, and was accepted so completely into the fold of his family, she knew this sense of belonging would be her most precious memory of all.