CHAPTER III-LET IT SNOW

"The first thing I need to inspect are the facilities for the daycare you operate here. I will need to see the files on every child, including immunization records. I hope they are up to date. If not, it's an automatic shut down." Ms. de Winter gave Ninon a thin smile.

Anne came up, and caught the last part of the conversation. "Hello, I'm Anne Habsburg. I'm the director. I'd be glad to accommodate you, but we are in the middle of organizing our Christmas pageant. Could we perhaps reschedule for Monday?"

Inspector de Winter gave Anne a cold stare. "My time is valuable, Ms. Habsburg. The purpose of a surprise inspection is to see how the facility is run on a day to day basis, not when you have had ample warning to try to cover up all your deficiencies. You can either get me the information I need, or I can shut your center down. Your choice."

"I understand," said Anne, struggling to maintain a polite expression while she inwardly seethed. "Come this way, please."

As she glided past Athos, Ms. de Winter allowed her eyes to rest on him just for a heartbeat, then moved on. The scent of jasmine lingered in the air behind her, and Athos felt as if his soul had suddenly constricted.

"Damn," he muttered, then turned. "I'm going outside to supervise the parking."

"But no one's even here yet," called out d'Artagnan.

"Exactly." The look he gave his friends made it clear that he needed to be alone.

After he had left, Porthos looked at Aramis. "Do you think she could be the one?"

"Which one?" asked a mystified d'Artagnan.

"She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, that's who," replied Aramis absently, then muttered to Porthos, "I thought he said the woman he loved had left town years ago."

"That's what he told us," said Porthos, picking up an ornament that had fallen off the large Christmas tree. "What kind of an ornament is a gecko?" he inquired, frowning as he stared at the brightly colored bauble, fashioned in the shape of a small lizard.

"The gecko is a universal sign of good luck," responded Aramis. "Doesn't everyone know that?"

Porthos rolled his eyes. "We didn't have geckos in the concrete jungle of inner-city Baltimore. Getting home without being shot was a sign of good luck there."

"Maybe it means this will be the best Christmas ever!" sang out d'Artagnan, as he picked up Lupita and began to dance with her. The little girl had been running circles around them, and giggled as the young man whirled her around the room.

"Maybe." Aramis' voice was quiet, and not at all confident.

As Ninon shepherded the herd of children into the community center to take their places, dozens of cell phones were whipped out. Proud parents and grandparents took innumerable photos and videos, while infants slept in their carseats, blissfully unaware of the commotion around them.

When the last latecomer had straggled in and the grand procession of stars and angels had begun, Athos changed into his tuxedo. He was still adamant that he would not sing. However, Porthos had rented him a tuxedo despite his protests, and had insisted that he put it on.

As he walked back into the hallway, he heard the strains of "O Come All Ye Faithful" coming down the hallway. He stood with his back against the wall, letting the sounds of children's voices raised in song wash over him. Despite his best efforts, he could not ignore the light shining from the director's office. Moments later, he was standing outside the doorway.

The office was dark except for a lone desk light that shone over the files spread out in front of Anne de Winter. She was alone, and was bent over her laptop, oblivious to his presence. For five years, she had haunted his dreams, torturing him night after sleepless night. So how was it that catching her in an unguarded moment brought back only the best memories? She still makes tortoiseshell glasses look incredibly sexy—and she hasn't lost the habit of drumming her fingers against the table.

He tried to remember the bitterness and anger he had felt on the night she had left, but all he could recall were the months of desolation and loneliness that had followed. When she ran a hand through her hair, the longing to feel her in his arms was almost unbearable. All of a sudden, she looked up. For just an instant, he saw a mix of emotions flash across her face—regret, joy, anger, passion. Then the neutral, composed expression was back in place.

"Hello, Athos." Those four syllables, spoken in her breathy voice, almost caused him to become undone. That realization sent a pulse of fury through his body, and the anger that had eluded him seconds before was now all that he was aware of.

He stepped inside, flicked the blinds closed, then shut the door, locking it behind him.

She leaned back in her chair, crossing her legs. "Am I to be your prisoner now?"

"Why are you doing this?" His voice was low, his words deliberate.

She lifted one exquisitely groomed eyebrow. "Because it's my job?"

"Don't play me for a fool! You knew I would be here…you had have known it! Since when do state inspections occur on Saturdays?"

"For your information, the legislature—"

"Enough!" He pulled her to her feet, and had one arm around her waist before her brain could even register what he intended to do. "Don't you dare lie to me! This time, you will give me the honesty I deserved five years ago."

"Such drama, Athos," she murmured, her hands sliding instinctively around his neck. "I assure you, theatrics are not necessary. I too, have had these years to think over my actions. Ask me whatever you like, and I promise to give you the truth."

He leaned forward, touching his forehead to hers. Closing his eyes, he inhaled the sweet, sultry fragrance that was hers—and hers alone. "Do you want me to kiss you?" he muttered.

"I think-"

He cut her off, denying her the chance to try to gain control of the situation. "It's a simple question. Yes or no?"

Anne tilted her head, searching his eyes. The desire for him that she had thought long since extinguished rushed into her body, and she whispered, "Yes—please. Yes."