Christmas in the City - Jill Barnett Page 0,14

entertainment?"

"Of course not." She took the valise from him and set it on her lap, snapped it open, and burrowed inside. A second later she looked up, grinning. She pulled out an old pair of ice skates and dangled them in front of his face. "Yours," she said, then dropped them in his lap.

He stared at them.

She pulled out another pair. "And mine."

"This is the surprise?"

She nodded. "And it's absolutely free."

"Where did the skates come from?"

"I borrowed them. For free," she said smugly. "Now go ahead. Strap them on." She bent down and fit her feet into the skate clamps, then buckled the leather straps. She lifted one foot, examining the skate as if it were a glass slipper. "Not bad."

She stood up and planted her hands on her hips. "You haven't put yours on yet. I thought you said you liked challenges."

He bent down and strapped on the skates.

An instant later she was walking down the path to the pond. He glanced up. She had sauntered away like a conquering queen. From the way she carried herself, one would never know she still had a large rip in her skirt and that the rear shoulder of her jacket was shredded from the accident.

Funniest thing. For the first time in too many years to count, he wasn't bored.

"Better hurry," she called out over her shoulder in a singsong voice. "The last one there has to give a thousand dollars to the poor!"

And for the third time that day, he smiled.

"What do mean, we have to pay a dime?" Lilli stared dumbfounded at a park official in a blue uniform coat. He stood inside a small toll booth that had been hidden by the trees and bushes.

The man leaned forward from the window in his booth. "The skating pond has a ten-cent toll."

She could hear someone coming down the path. She didn't want to turn around and see triumph in D.L. Stewart's dark face. Directly behind her, she heard his skates crunch in the snow.

"What's the matter?" he asked in that deep voice.

She stared at the ground for a long moment, then finally admitted, "I was wrong. There's a fee to skate."

A second later she heard the sound of coins and looked up.

He held out a hand filled with gold pieces.

She shook her head. "No."

He turned to the official. "How much does this booth take in on a good day?"

The man shrugged. "Fifty dollars. Maybe sixty."

He gave him three twenty-dollar gold pieces, then added a fourth. "Consider this a good day and close the booth."

She started to say something, but he grabbed her arm and was pulling her along. "Happy Christmas!" she called back to the tollman. A second later D.L. Stewart's hands were on her waist, and with a gentle shove he propelled her onto the ice.

Lillian would have protested, loudly, that he'd paid for something she had planned to be free, that they didn't have to do this, that she would find something else they could do.

Except that she'd forgotten one...little...itsy…bitsy…thing.

She had never ice-skated.

If I have freedom in my love,

And in my soul am free.

Angels alone that soar above.

Enjoy such liberty.

—Richard Lovelace

Chapter Eight

FOR THE SECOND TIME IN TWO DAYS, D. L. Stewart stared down at Lillian. Only this time she was sprawled facedown on the hard ice.

She turned her head and looked up at him. "I've discovered something interesting. Without wings, you can't hang on to thin air."

D.L. squatted next to her. "Are you hurt?"

"Only my pride." She pushed herself up on her hands and knees.

He straightened, grabbed her waist again, and picked her up. He set her carefully on the ice and kept his hands on her waist because it felt right. "I assumed since you planned this event that you could skate."

"So did I." Her blades slipped and she squealed, then wrapped her arms in a death grip around his waist. She looked up at him, her face sheepish. "It looks so easy."

"Turn around."

"I can't without letting go."

"Let go and turn slowly."

"I don't do miracles," she muttered.

He braced his skates and spun her around so her back was to him. He still held her waist.

She leaned back and blinked up at him for a second.

"I'll help you. Keep your ankles together and your back straight.” He pushed her slightly away. “Look forward, not up at me."

"You can skate," she said flatly. "Of course you can."

His answer was to tighten his hands on her small waist and push off, skating smoothly and keeping her in front of him.