Have Yourself a Naughty Little Santa by Karin Tabke Page B

head. She pouted and pressed herself against the long length of him. At the contact she felt his body stir. “You know you want to.”
    He stood stalwart. She persisted, and much to her surprise, she found herself enjoying this lighter, flirtier self. And if it got her the information she needed, she was game. Besides, it wasn’t like she wasn’t attracted to the guy. If she wasn’t careful, she could find herself twisting up the sheets with him again. Her body lit up at the notion.
    When Ricco refused to budge, Kim resorted to a little reverse psychology. She released his hand and skipped past him toward the rink. She knew he’d follow her, if for no other reason than the fact that he’d feel some sense of responsibility for making sure she was returned safe and sound to the inn. Not that this town was threatening in any way. It was Christmas paradise, and she felt as light and carefree as she had when Gran would take her out on the town.
    The fact that Kimberly didn’t have a cent on her didn’t matter. The smiling lady in the rental hut just told her to drop off the two-dollar rental fee the next time she came by. Kim sat down on a warmed bench and pulled off her five-hundred-dollar boots, fretting about where she could put them so no one would steal them. The nice lady from the rental hut just a few feet away smiled and said, “No one will bother your things.”
    Kim smiled and put on the skates, tightly lacing them. As she stood, she nearly lost her balance. She grabbed the edge of the rink and was thankful for the thick rubber matting that led to the ice. She glanced over her shoulder to where she’d left Ricco. He stood, silently watching her. He hadn’t moved an inch. Her belly somersaulted. She felt his pain. Really, she did, but she’d learned to compartmentalize it. It made life so much more manageable. And frankly, being emotionally unfettered cleared the way for complete focus on her job. And she loved her job. The thrill of the hunt was better than sex any day. Well, except the other night, but that was an anomaly. Seriously, it had been one of those all-of-the-stars-in-alignment nights.
    Gingerly Kim put her right foot onto the ice. She gripped the edge of the rink wall and put her left foot out. The right foot pushed forward, she flexed backward to compensate, and her left foot went flying out from underneath her. She hit the hard ice with a loud whoosh. She lay stunned and breathless for a long moment. She opened her eyes to see several concerned faces peering down at her.
    “Are you okay, lady?” a teenaged boy asked.
    “I think so,” she answered. As far as she could tell the only thing stinging at the moment was her pride, and, well, her behind. The boy extended a hand and she reached for it. As he pulled her up, her skates went willy-nilly and she fell back onto the ice, this time bringing the kid with her.
    She lay flat on her back, sprawled out like she was going to make a snow angel, with the kid sitting on her stomach. He hurried to move away, apologizing profusely. A dark shadow moved over her, and big, capable hands lifted her from the ice, setting her aright on her feet. Kim looked up to see Ricco’s hard face above hers. Heat infused her cheeks. His eyes, not as hard as his face, twinkled just a smidge. “You’re going to kill yourself and everyone else on the ice,” he told her.
    Carefully, Kim grasped the edge of the low wall and scowled up at him. “No, I’m not!” She turned to grab the wall with her other hand, misplaced her weight, and found herself once again on her back, this time staring up into two very amused dark brown eyes.
    He stared at her for a long moment before those sensual lips of his broke into a smile. “Yes, you are.” He extended his hand and hauled her up against him. He wrapped his left arm around her waist, and, in a slow glide, he pushed off, holding her to him. Like he was an NHL star, he moved with the grace of a pro along the ice. The slow,