Read Online Holiday Wishes by Nora Roberts - Free Book Online Page A

experience. Once he was in the back room of Faith’s shop, he shed the Santa clothes. He wanted to do it again. As Jason slipped into his own slim slacks, he realized he hadn’t had so much fun in years. Part of it had been the look in Faith’s eyes, the way she’d warmed to him, if only briefly. Part of it had been the simple act of giving pleasure. How long had it been since he’d done something without an angle? On an assignment there was constant bargaining. You give me this, I’ll give you that. He’d had to toughen himself against sympathy, against compassion, to find the truth and report it. If his style had a hard edge, it was because he’d always gone for the story that demanded it. It had helped him forget. Now that he’d come home, it was impossible not to remember.
    What kind of man was he really? He wasn’t sure anymore, but he knew there was one woman who could make or break him. Leaving the suit in the closet, he went to find her.
    She had been waiting for him. She was ready to admit she’d been waiting for him for ten years. Throughout the rest of the afternoon, Faith had made her own decisions. She’d made a success of her life. Though the search hadn’t always been easy, she’d found contentment. Confidence had come with the years and she knew she could go on alone. It was time to stop being afraid of what her life would be like when Jason left again and to accept the gift she’d been offered. He was here, now, and she loved him.
    When he came into the house he found her curled in a chair by the tree, her cheek resting on the arm. She waited until he came to her. “Sometimes at night I sit like this. Clara’s asleep upstairs and the house is quiet. I can think about little things, enormous things, just as I did as a child. The lights all blend together and the tree smells like heaven. You can go anywhere, sitting just like this.”
    He picked her up, felt her yield, then settled in the chair with her on his lap. “I remember sitting like this with you at Christmastime in your parents’ house. Your father grumbled.”
    She snuggled close. There was no padding now, just the long, lean body she knew so well. “My mother dragged him into the kitchen so we could be alone for a little while. She knew you didn’t have a tree at home.”
    â€œOr anything else.”
    â€œI never asked where you live now, Jason. Whether you found a place that makes you happy.”
    â€œI move around a lot. I have a base in New York.”
    â€œA base?”
    â€œAn apartment.”
    â€œIt doesn’t sound like a home,” she murmured. “Do you put a tree in the window at Christmas?”
    â€œI guess I have once or twice, when I’ve been around.”
    It broke her heart, but she said nothing. “My mother always said you had wanderlust. Some people are born with it.”
    â€œI had to prove myself, Faith.”
    â€œTo whom?”
    â€œTo myself.” He rested his cheek on top of her head. “Damn it, to you.”
    She breathed in the scent of pine while the lights danced on the tree. They’d sat like this before, so long ago. The memories were nearly as sweet as the reality. “I never needed you to prove anything to me, Jason.”
    â€œMaybe that’s one of the reasons I had to. You were too good for me.”
    â€œThat’s ridiculous.” She would have shifted, but he held her still.
    â€œYou were, and still are.” He, too, stared at the tree. The tinsel shimmered in the lights like the magic he’d always wanted to give her. “Maybe that’s why I had to leave when I did—maybe it’s why I came back. You’re all the good things, Faith. Just being with you brings out the best parts of me. God knows, there aren’t many.”
    â€œYou were always too hard on yourself. I don’t like it.” This time she did shift so that her hands were