Page 26 of Mason: His to Convince

His Santa suit was a perfect fit and hid his identity effectively. Rebecca was so tired at this point, she didn't much care who the good-hearted soul who'd answered her prayers was. He portrayed Santa much better than she ever could and she smiled and went across the room to greet him.

“Well, look who's here,” she called making sure everyone's attention was on the big stranger. “How nice of you to stop in, Santa.”

“My pleasure. It does my heart good to see so many folks enjoying themselves on Christmas. Too many people are just too plain stubborn to admit to being lonely and spend the holiday alone.”

Rebecca eyes narrowed as she squinted across the small distance separating them. The way the man pronounced the word stubborn sounded vaguely familiar but she pushed the thought out of her mind. She noticed that the man towered over everyone in the room and it appeared his spectacles were slightly tinted, hiding his eyes. Shrugging her shoulders Rebecca advanced with a firm step extending her hand. After all, what did it really matter if she knew Santa’s identity or not? The fact that he'd taken time out of his own holiday to brighten up their day made him special in her book.

“I'm very glad you could come,” she said, but when instead of simply taking her hand, he used it to pull her up against his side in a firm grip, she gulped. His hold, though not painful, wasunbreakable and she began to have second thoughts when she tried to gently disengage herself and couldn't move an inch.

“Has everyone been good this year?” his voice boomed across the room, taking the attention off Rebecca and back onto him.

“Shoot, can't be anything else at our age,” Ed called back sounding disgruntled and bringing a round of laughter from the crowd.

Santa shook with laughter too, bringing Rebecca even closer if that were possible. Trying to smile, Rebecca refused to struggle with someone twice her size and alarm the seniors. The best thing would be to divert their attention for a moment so she could get free. Perspiration broke out on her forehead as she realized the man dressed up like Santa could be anyone, even a criminal.

“What have you brought us in your bag, Santa?” Rebecca spoke up, trying not to let fear alter her voice.

“If he's got what I want in that bag, I'll die a happy man,” Ray Jackson called out, winking at his widow friend and causing her to blush profusely.

“I'm not sure what you’re looking for, friend,” Santa responded with a chuckle and a wink, “But at your age you must have learned that when you want something you’re better off to get right to it.”

“Darn straight,” Ray shot back. “I like the way you think, Santa. Now where's that mistletoe got to.”

The hoots of laughter and good natured ribbing were enough of a distraction that Rebecca was able to bring her heeled boot down hard on Santa's instep, freeing her instantly.

“Oh Santa,” she cooed, backing away. “I'm so sorry; let me get you some refreshments while you hand out your packages.” A niggling suspicion began to form in her mind. She felt instinctively that she knew this man but her panic at his refusal to release her had baffled her senses. It'll come to me shethought as she hurried away to refill the punch bowl and add more cookies to the platters.

As she watched him circulate the room a little while later, Rebecca still felt a fissure of fear. He talked and joked easily with the group and even danced a waltz with Mary. Santa had handed out corsages to all the ladies and boutonnieres to the men. Each person also received a gift certificate for dinner at a local restaurant. Well, whoever he was he certainly wasn't cheap.

Rebecca slipped into the ladies room and unfastened the clip in her hair. Golden curls tumbled free and she massaged her scalp for a moment, trying to relax. After refreshing her make-up she felt she was again ready to face the mysterious Santa. The girls had the clean-up under control and all that was left to do was washing the punch glasses and cleaning the tables. A few of the ladies offered to stay until it was time to lock up and Sara would be here any minute to help with the final tidying. Maggie, here I come, she told herself, picturing a relaxing evening with her friend.

A dreamy waltz was playing when she left the ladies room. Her eyes automatically searched for the mystery Santa, determined not to put herself in a vulnerable position, but before she knew what was happening he'd grasped her waist from behind, spinning her around and into his arms. The strong arm around her waist definitely let her know she wasn't going anywhere and his big hand enveloped her own, effectively stopping her from using it to push him away. Color flooded her cheeks. His hold was inescapable and she was sure she could feel the beating of his heart through his padding. She tried to use her other hand to pull down his beard and discover his identity, but he just laughed and swung her in circles to the music until she laid her head on his chest, dizzy.

“Have you ever heard of asking, Santa?”

“It occurred to me,” he answered, obviously ignoring the indignation in her voice. “But I decided to follow my own advice to our friend there and go after what I want”, he replied, nodding toward Ray and his lady, dancing in a world of their own.

Rebecca swallowed hard. Lord, how do I get myself into these situations? His voice was deep and not at all unpleasant and again she was almost certain she knew this man; an amorous Santa who wouldn't take no for an answer. Where was Mason when she needed him?

Sighing Rebecca decided to finish the dance with good grace and then escape for Maggie's at her first opportunity. Relaxing in his arms she gave herself over to the spell of the music, marveling at how well he danced despite his heavy boots and padded stomach. His soft beard tickled her forehead and when she closed her eyes she felt like she was in the arms of a giant teddy bear.

Surprisingly, after she relaxed, the threatening feeling faded away and she actually felt safe and protected. He was strong and led her in the steps skillfully and lightly. Almost sorry when the dance ended, she shook her head to clear away the strange feelings. It must be the outfit that made her feel like she'd been secure and cared for.

Expecting to be released, Rebecca started to thank him for the dance when to her extreme embarrassment and alarm he swept her up in his arms and sat down in the nearest chair, holding her firmly on his lap. His legs were so long that her feet dangled inches off the floor keeping her helpless; his arm around her waist resting mere inches beneath breast. Speechless with fury, Rebecca could only gasp when the deranged Santa calmly whispered in her ear.

“And what do you want for Christmas pretty lady?” Santa asked innocently.

Suddenly the light and the angle of his glasses revealed eyes of stormy blue, sparkling with humor.

“A gun,” she shot back, really beginning to struggle now that she realized the rotten trick Mason played on her.

“Now, Now,” he told her tightening his hold, sliding one hand under her bottom and kneading firmly.

“Santa could make all your dreams come true.” Mason's grin was her undoing.

“If my dreams come true, I'll be in jail by tomorrow,” she growled back from between clenched teeth. “NOW LET ME GO!”

“Not a chance. Santa finds his sexy green elf extremely tempting. Now be a good little girl, we have an audience.”