Free Christmas Confidential by Marilyn Pappano; Linda Conrad

them.”
    “You have someone in mind for doing the actual having? ”
    It was stupid and juvenile, but the image that popped into his head immediately was Miri, surrounded by little boys, all black-haired and blue-eyed like him and beautiful like her. Tough like her, too. And, of course, charming like him.
    When he didn’t answer, she laughed drily. “Yeah, it’s kind of hard to have that kind of relationship when you start out the first date with the multiple-babies/boys thing, isn’t it?”
    Consider yourself warned, he thought, then wasn’t sure if he was talking to himself or her.
    The squeak of the wipers drew his attention to the fact that the snow had stopped. He turned them to the low setting to keep the windshield clean of splashing from the traffic before asking, “What about your family? All girls or mostly boys?”
    Apparently in sudden need of a lukewarm drink, she leaned into the back for a bottle of water and a candy bar. When she’d taken a swig, she tore open the plastic wrapper on the candy but didn’t take a bite. “Three girls, one boy.”
    Wow, more information that I didn’t have to pry out with a crowbar. It’s my lucky day, considering my car almost ended up in a ditch. “Let me guess. You’re the oldest.”
    “I am.”
    “What about their kids?”
    The look that crossed her face showed him the true meaning of bittersweet . It was haunting and sad and full of love and sorrow, and it made him want to wrap his arms around her and make everything all right, at least for the moment.
    “I don’t know. I haven’t been in touch with them for a long time.”
    Long was relative. A couple of years? Five? Ten? Had she left home at the first chance she’d gotten? Had her parents kicked her out? Had she done something to cause them to break off contact with her? Not likely, if she’d been caring for her sick mother.
    But the mother had died. Maybe Miri had no longer felt needed. Maybe things had been bad between her and her father. Maybe the grief had driven her to someplace new.
    There was so much he didn’t know about her. So much he wanted to know.
    “Sorry.” It was a meaningless word that made him wish for something else to say, but if the right thing was in his brain, he couldn’t locate it.
    “Yeah, well, you know what they say. Stuff happens.”
    He grinned again. “You must not be from Texas, because around here, we don’t say ‘stuff.’” He hesitated. Another personal question might make her shut up again, but she’d started it, right? And he doubted she would volunteer much, if anything, without his asking. “Where are you from?”
    The wipers swiped slowly left, back to the right, then left again before a small shiver rippled through her. “North Carolina.”
    His breathing automatically grew shallow, as if a full inhalation might startle her. “You don’t sound like a Tar Heel.” Though accents could be lost, learned or faked. He knew that from work experience.
    “I left there a long time ago.”
    Long again. Relative, again. “You’re only thirty. How long could it have been?”
    His breathing might be shallow. Hers was heavy and weary. “Twelve years. And enough with the questions.”
    She’d left home at eighteen, most likely on her own. What had happened to her sisters and brother? Did they wonder where their big sister had gone? Did they care? Did they even remember her?
    That desire to hold her tight intensified, but he settled for gripping the steering wheel. If he tried to touch her, she would probably withdraw, because no matter what she said, she did blame him for her arrest.
    He understood that. He just wished she understood that he hadn’t had a choice. It just wasn’t in him to ignore a crime. His duty to Mr. Smith and his own sense of honor had required him to do the right thing.
    But if they’d met under different circumstances, if Mr. Smith had never hired him or she’d never been tempted by her boss’s fortune...
    Maybe that should go on