Harlequin Holiday Collection - Four Classic Seasonal Novellas

avoiding his calls, staying away from him when all she wanted was to ask him to come back?
    Pride. Fear. Habit.
    None of those things mattered now, though. Not when she was looking into the dark eyes of a big, rough-looking guy with Cro-Magnon features and a big-ass weapon.
    She had no doubt who he was. “The body’s not here. The police took it away.”
    “I don’t care about that,” Fred Kipling snapped. “Where are they?”
    “Where are who?”
    “Don’t play stupid with me, bitch. My contact in the Chicago P.D. said they weren’t on the body, which means you found them and kept them.” He pushed the gun harder into her ribs until Holly gasped in pain and terror, then he said, “tell me where the stones are or I’ll put a hole in you the size of Cleveland.”
    The stones? The truth dawned. “The diamonds you stole? Why would they be here?”
    “Teenie double-crossed me. I’d been hiding out in town and he came to meet up. But he got lippy with me and I had to…take care of him.”
    The night they were in the tree lot, no doubt.
    “I had to hide him quick, so I stuck him in the tree. Only when I got back to my place, I realized he’d already snuck in there before our meeting, found my stash and helped himself to a lot more than his fair share. He had to have them on him when he died. Which means you’ve got them now.”
    Glowering as he pushed the gun harder against her, he growled, “now, give me what’s mine, lady. Unless you want to die.”

Chapter Eighteen
    Zach dialed 911 as he ran around the side of the old inn, demanding the local police but knowing he wouldn’t wait for them. Not while Holly was in danger.
    Damn, how could he have left her alone, so sure that Fred Kipling had skipped town? His stupidity could cost Holly her life.
    Reaching the back door that led into the kitchen, he peered through the window, straining to see through the slit between the silky sheer curtains. What he saw was enough to stop his heart.
    The ruthless criminal stood inside, a gun in his hand. And it was pointed directly at Holly Cavanaugh, the woman Zach now realized he had never stopped loving.
    Through the cracks in the old door, he was able to hear some of their conversation. Enough to realize that he’d been wrong about what Fred Kipling wanted with the Christmas tree Holly had bought three days ago. Kipling didn’t care about his late partner’s body being discovered—he’d wanted the diamonds he thought had been in Leo Meaney’s possession.
    He wanted to crash through the door, but the gun made him hesitate. If Kipling was startled, he might shoot first and think later. And Holly was in the line of fire.
    Looking frantically around, he spotted Holly’s grandfather’s cane, propped beside the back door. It was a heavy, wicked looking thing, with a thick, silver wolf’s head for a handle.
    Good enough.
    Grabbing it, Zach began easing the door open, praying it wouldn’t squeak. Thankfully, luck was with him and he managed to get inside without the killer hearing any noise. But he must have felt something—maybe a sudden cold draft from the outside. Because Kipling began to swing around.
    Zach didn’t hesitate. “Holly, go!” he yelled. Not even letting himself think about the gun in the other man’s hand, he swung the cane with all his might, striking Fred Kipling on the side of his head.
    The blow was hard enough to leave the imprint of a wolf on the other man’s temple. And to drop him right to the floor.

    Maybe it was a good thing they didn’t have any guests staying at the inn, Holly decided a short time later. Because for the second time this week the police were combing the house.
    They’d arrived about five minutes after Zach had taken down the horrible man who’d threatened to kill her. If she closed her eyes, she could still hear the crack of her grandfather’s cane against Kipling’s skull, knowing the sound was still better than if she’d heard the explosion of gun fire.
    The thief’s head had been shaped like a large boulder and considering he’d already regained consciousness by the time the ambulance workers were taking him away—with a police escort—Kipling’s skull must really have been made out of rock.
    “You’re sure you don’t want to be seen by anyone?” Detective Santori asked. Though he was, again, out of his jurisdiction, the local department didn’t seem to mind his presence since he was the lead investigator into the diamond