A Daddy By Christmas

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Right. She could do this. She was usually onstage for a minimum of three shows a day for the entire month of December. Putting together a half-hour ballet recital for a few preschoolers would probably be easy by comparison.

You wanted to be involved, and now you are.

She took a deep breath and turned, following Allegra’s gaze toward the picture window that overlooked the lobby. The space was suddenly packed with strollers and tiny bodies dressed in candy-colored ballet clothes. It looked like every mom in the Village had turned up with a toddler in tow.

How could they possibly have money problems? Enrollment seemed to be booming. “Allegra, how bad is the school struggling?”

“Pretty bad.” Allegra sighed. “We had the big dance-athon fund-raiser a while back, so the business is out of the red. But we’re still barely getting by. We’ve got just enough to pay the bills every month. I keep thinking that if we could give the studio a major face-lift, we could attract serious dance students. Maybe we could even hold a summer intensive for one of the dance companies.”

“That’s a great idea.” But it would never happen in the school’s current condition.

Chloe looked around again, and her gaze snagged on all the little things that needed to be fixed—the cracked walls, the scuffed floors, the faded furniture. Even the window overlooking the lobby had a tiny spiderweb of cracks in the corner. She frowned at it, until something beyond the glass caught her attention.

Correction: not something. Someone.

His head towered above the crowd, and his expression was as grim and intense as ever. Chloe had never seen anyone look so woefully out of place at a ballet studio before. It would have been comical if the sight of him hadn’t been such a shock.

“Brace yourself. I’m going to open the door and let the kids inside.” Allegra paused midway across the room. “Are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Not a ghost. A thief.

A puppy thief.

The man on the other side of the window finally glanced her way. He did a double take, and then his gaze collided with hers.

She forgot how to breathe for a second. All day long she’d kept imagining that she’d seen him, and now here he was in the flesh, as if she’d somehow conjured him.

Anders Kent.

Her would-be fiancé.

Chapter Four (#u04d54676-3ddd-544e-821e-3bce985a8bf6)

Anders went still as their gazes locked through the picture window. Around him, chaos reigned as a dozen mothers wrestled their children out of snow boots and into pale pink ballet shoes and tutus. The floor was littered with coats, stray mittens and far more strollers than could safely fit into the small space. But he forgot all of it the moment he spotted the dancer on the other side of the glass.

Her.

She was dressed normally this time—no reindeer suit in sight—but he recognized her instantly. She had that same unforgettable graceful neck, same supple spine, same holly berry lips. Tiny earrings shaped liked candy canes dangled from her ears, brushing lightly against her skin in a way that made Anders forget he was standing in the middle of mommy-and-me chaos. He could only stand and stare, with all his attention focused on that swan-like curve, wondering what her body would feel like in his hands. Soft...warm.

His fingers balled into fists at his sides, and then she waved, snapping him out of his trance. He lifted an eyebrow in acknowledgment.

Definitely the same woman, in all her Christmas-loving glory.

“Can we go in now?” Lolly tugged at his pant leg.

He looked down at her tiny feet, trying to figure out if he’d gotten her ballet shoes on the correct ones. He still wasn’t certain. She seemed somewhat happy, though, and that was all that mattered. “Sure, pumpkin.”

Most of the other kids charged into the classroom on their own, but Lolly wanted an escort. The morning after the accident, when Anders told her that her mommy and daddy were in heaven now and wouldn’t be coming home, she’d clung to him and soaked his shirt with tears.

She’d been more like her usual chatty self in the past few days, but still had moments when she wanted to hold his hand, or be carried so that she could wrap her tiny arms around his neck. Anders had a feeling she just needed to know he wasn’t going to disappear.

He wouldn’t.

Not if he could help it.

Lolly led him into the classroom, but the minute they crossed the threshold, she dropped his hand to join her friends, sitting cross-legged in a cluster of frothy pink tulle in front of the large mirrored wall.

He lingered for a moment, hesitant to leave her there. And maybe a part of him—some shadow of his former self that remembered what it was like to wish for something, to want—didn’t want to walk away from Miss Wilde again.

What are you doing? He had a mountain of tasks to accomplish today, starting with finding a way to convince Penelope Reed to marry him. He’d thought about the matter long and hard, and realistically, she was his only option.

He turned to go, but before he could take a step, the whimsical Miss Wilde tapped him on the shoulder.

“Going somewhere?” she said.

A smile tugged at his lips as he spun to face her. He barely recognized the sensation. It felt like years since he’d smiled. “Yes. Back to the office.”

“I’m Chloe, by the way. We didn’t get as far as names yesterday. Parents are welcome to stay and watch.” Her soft brown eyes seemed almost hopeful.

He shook his head. “I can’t. I...” I’ve got to go get engaged.

“Hello, Mr. Kent.” Allegra, the dance teacher he’d met at Lolly’s last recital, paused to stand beside Chloe. She glanced back and forth between them. “You two know each other?”

“No,” said Anders, at the exact moment Chloe Wilde contradicted him by nodding and saying yes.

Then she frowned and glared at him in much the same way she had the day before when she’d accused him of being a puppy thief. “Seriously? You asked me to marry you yesterday and now you’re pretending we don’t know each other?”

Allegra coughed—loudly—but Anders’s gaze remained glued to Chloe. “You’re not going to let that go, are you?”

She smiled at him, and the curve of her red lips was far too sweet. Visions of sugarplums danced in his head. “Nope.”

“Wait—I’m confused.” Allegra frowned. “What happened to Steven?”

“Who’s Steven?” he asked, before he could stop himself.

Chloe’s cheeks flared a lovely shade of pink. “He’s no one.”

Anders glanced at Allegra for confirmation, although why he cared about a person he’d never heard of before was a mystery.

Sure it is. You know why.

Allegra bit her lip and then caved under his gaze. “He’s not exactly no one. Chloe, didn’t you and Steven date for nearly three years?”

Something hardened in Anders’s gut, and if he didn’t know better, he would have recognized the feeling as jealousy.

Impossible. He didn’t even know this woman. He’d laid eyes on her exactly twice, and both times he’d found her borderline annoying. Attractive, sure—he wasn’t blind, after all. But he didn’t typically go for the adorably quirky type, and if Chloe was anything, she was that. Compared to most women he dated, she was sort of a mess.

Then again, it wasn’t as if those women were lining up to marry him. He’d spent the previous evening getting back in touch with his dates from the past few months, and at first, most of them had been happy to hear from him. But as soon as he’d brought up the whole marriage-of-convenience idea, their enthusiasm waned. He’d been hung up on more times than he could count.

Chloe squared her slender shoulders and gave her chin a defiant lift. “Steven and I broke up. It wasn’t working out and we agreed to go our separate ways. No big deal.”

Wrong. The flash of pain in Chloe’s soft doe eyes told him it was a very big deal, but he didn’t press for an explanation. He wasn’t altogether sure why he was even still standing there.

“Wow, I had no idea. I’m so sorry. I don’t really know what to say.” Allegra’s gaze flicked toward him again.

He held up his hands. “I had nothing to do with it.”

How was this his life? He should be facilitating an acquisition right now, or better yet, proposing to Penelope Reed, instead of standing in a ballet school wondering why the enigmatic Chloe Wilde was suddenly single.

“I should go,” he blurted.

Penelope was the logical choice, in spite of their working relationship. She was reliable and discreet. He knew precisely what he’d be getting into if she agreed to a business marriage with him. It would be clean, simple and orderly, which was precisely the sort of relationship he needed right now, even if it was temporary.

As if on cue, Lolly appeared. She’d broken away from the group of little girls sitting cross-legged in front of the mirror and was now standing at his feet with her arms wrapped around his shins.

Too soon.

He shouldn’t have brought her here. She’d been doing so well, and she’d been asking about going back to dance class, so he’d consulted his late brother’s calendar and figured out Lolly’s schedule. For a five-year-old, she was fiercely independent, brimming with confidence. Anders chalked it up to her Manhattan upbringing, but she was still just a child—a child who’d lost her mom and dad.

He should have waited another week or two. Better yet, he should have thrown that crazy schedule out the window and never come here.

But when Anders crouched down and peeled her slender arms from his legs, intent on scooping her up and walking out the door, she turned her back on him and gazed up at Chloe.

“Are you my teacher? I’ve never seen you here before,” she said.

Chloe bent down so she was at eye level with Lolly. “I’m new.” She pulled a face. “Sort of.”

“Is that you on the picture outside?” Lolly pointed toward the lobby.

Of course Anders had noticed the framed poster of Chloe in her flirty Santa costume and silver tap shoes, along with the multitude of surrounding photographs from her performances with the Rockettes. It would have been impossible not to. Even if he’d somehow missed it, Lolly’s reaction would have clued him in.

She’d looked at the poster with stars in her eyes as they’d walked past, and she’d apparently just realized the beautiful dancer from the picture was here in the flesh, standing in the same room.

“That’s me,” Chloe said brightly.

“You look like a Christmas princess.” Lolly tilted her head and looked Chloe up and down. “Are you a Christmas princess?”

And just like that, Anders was in over his head. He hadn’t even formulated a Santa Claus plan yet, much less given any thought to princesses and fairy tales and storybook endings. How on earth was he going to raise a little girl?

Hell, maybe his brother had been right when he’d added the marriage clause to the guardianship paragraph in his will. Anders didn’t know the first thing about being a dad.

“Not exactly,” Chloe said. And before Lolly’s face could fall, she added, “Christmas is a magical time, though. Just like a real-life fairy tale. And you know what? The ballet we’re putting together for Christmas Eve has all sorts of wonderful parts—fairies, dancing snowflakes and even a few snow queens.”