Free Winter's Night by Sherrilyn Kenyon Page A

world to wake him.
    She heard footsteps outside in the kitchen. Afraid it was one of the children or Rebecca, someone who might enter her room to wake her, she quickly got up and dressed.
    With one last look to savor the sight of him sleeping naked in her bed, she drew her quilt up over his sleeping form and tiptoed from the room.
    Entering the kitchen, she didn’t see anyone.
    How strange.
    She had definitely heard someone a moment ago.
    With a frown, she walked into the parlor where they had placed the Christmas tree and toys. To the right of the tree, hidden in the shadows, she found her daughter, Diana, cradling the doll St. Nick had brought her.
    Catherine paused, staring at the product of her love for Michael. Diana was a bit small for her four years. She had Catherine’s long, wavy dark hair and Michael’s silver-gray eyes. It never failed to amaze Catherine that something so pretty and smart had come from her.
    Smiling, she approached her daughter who looked up, her eyes brimming with tears.
    â€œDiana, what is it?” she asked, instantly concerned as she knelt by her side. She brushed the dark bangs back from her daughter’s face.
    â€œHe didn’t come,” Diana whimpered as a solitary tear fell down her face.
    â€œOf course St. Nick came, sweetling. You have the doll and everything.”
    â€œNo, Mama, he didn’t come,” she repeated, hugging her doll even closer as more tears fell. “It was all I wanted for Christmas and he didn’t come.”
    â€œWho, baby?”
    â€œDaddy,” she sobbed.
    Catherine’s breath caught in her throat at the unexpected word. Diana had only started asking about her father a few short months ago, and the fact that he had shown up in the night …
    It was enough to give one the shivers.
    â€œWhat are you talking about?” Catherine asked her daughter.
    â€œYou told me St. Nick could make miracles, remember, Mama?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œAnd I told you I wanted a special miracle.”
    â€œI thought you meant the doll.”
    Diana shook her head. “I wanted St. Nick to bring me my daddy. I wanted to see his eyes like mine.”
    Catherine wrapped her arms around her small daughter and held her close. She wasn’t sure what she should do. Part of her wanted to take Diana into the bedroom to meet her father, and the other part of her was too terrified of how Michael might react.
    She should have told him last night, but she had turned coward.
    It was one thing for him to abandon her. She could deal with it. But hurting Diana was another matter.
    No, it would be best to wait and tell him about their daughter when Diana wasn’t around. That way only she would be hurt if he ran for the door. Again.
    With the edge of her shawl, Catherine wiped Diana’s eyes. “No tears on Christmas, please?”
    Diana sniffed them back.
    She kissed the top of Diana’s little dark head and squeezed her tight. “I’ll talk to St. Nick after breakfast and see what I can do.”
    â€œBut he’s already gone back to the North Pole.”
    â€œI know, sweetling, but didn’t anyone ever tell you that mommies have a special way of letting St. Nick know what their babies want?”
    Diana wiped her tears with the back of her hand. “After breakfast?”
    Catherine nodded. “Keep your fingers crossed and maybe he can manage something.”
    â€œI will. I promise.”
    She smiled at those silver-gray eyes that shone with innocence. “Good girl. Now go check your stockings and see what else St. Nick might have left while I go start breakfast.”
    Diana scooted out of her arms and Catherine rose slowly to her feet.
    In truth, she felt ill. Her stomach knotted. How would she break the news to Michael?
    Would he even care?
    Taking a deep breath for courage, she knew one way or the other she had to tell him. Even an irresponsible scoundrel deserved to know he had fathered a