Seducing Santa

Chapter One

Nicholas sat in front of the big stone fireplace that warmed his home in the North Pole. Instead of toys and Christmas delights lining his wall, contemporary art, books and CDs were there. Loud holiday music did not play all around him. No, the smooth tones of U2 mellowed his thoughts. He thought about throwing in a Three Doors Down or a Sean Paul CD later on to jam out to if the mood struck him. But for now, he was just content to sit in his leather recliner, drink a Jack Daniels over ice, and stare into the fire.

Soon he would be too busy until after Christmas Eve, so he would enjoy the peace while he could. It was one week until he made his usual rounds across the world, and everyone at the North Pole was already in a flutter, his parents, his workers. All he felt was kind of blah about the whole thing. Usually, he was filled with excitement. The winter and the holiday cheer gave him a buzz He should be excited, but this season was different. This year, he just felt as if it was a job, and that was not good.

Nicholas sighed and took a sip of his amber drink. He knew that if his mother and father walked at the moment, he would hear it. “Be cheerful, Nicholas. This is why you are charged with this task.” He was the fifth son of the Viking god Odin, who was married to his third wife and his mother Joko. To the supernatural realm of gods and goddesses, elves, fairies, and other magical folk, he was known by his real name
Christkindl
. To the entire world and the children who waited for him on Christmas Eve, he was Santa Claus.

He smiled as he thought of his other persona. A jolly fat man who delivered gifts, and that is what the few children who saw him would see. His magic let him change form to suit the job he had had since the beginning of time. But when he looked in the mirror, that was not the man who looked back at him. Parents would not let their children take presents from a man who never aged past thirty-five.

Nope they would probably try to tazer him and call the cops about an intruder.
He chuckled at the thought, but that laughter was soon gone. He was bored. That was the only conclusion he could come to. He had spent the year reforming his Santa Claus operation. No more naughty-or-nice list. He hated that. Nicholas knew that children reacted to the situations they were in, and some were just not naughty. He wanted to go case by case to see who he would be visit in his jovial guise instead of just lumping them into one category.

Of course, this idea was met by disdain by the VPs of Santa, Inc. They owned a majority of the big toy conglomerates that cleaned up at Christmas time, so they were looking at overhead costs of providing more gifts. His father had come up with the idea of banding with mortal companies. They would provide most of the toys and cut down on overworked elves. The elves were working twenty-four hour days every year to catch up with toy demands, and as mortals progressed, elves thought wooden toys and stuffed bears were the way to go. But as usual, the greed of men wanted a piece of the pie, so Santa, Inc. was formed. They would provide the toys, elves would wrap and label, and Santa would deliver. In return, big business would get one wish a year from the fairy realm. And what did they wish for? More money.

Greedy bastards.
Nicholas frowned. They wanted more, more, more, but were always willing to give less. After a long battle, his father had overruled them and given Nicholas leave to do as he pleased. No one argued with Odin, and no one sure as hell never argued with his son.

“I need a vacation before this madness begins,” he muttered and stood. The idea seemed better and better as he thought about it. He snapped his fingers, and his head elf appeared in his living room. Obviously, he had awakened his oldest friend because he was dressed in a night shirt and barefoot.

“Horace, I’m going out!” Nicholas announced.

“And you wake me to tell me this for what reason?” The elf grumbled and waved him off. “Send me back to bed, and go out. I don’t care!”

“You don’t understand, Horace. I am going on a small vacation before the Eve comes. I need you to hold down the fort.” Nicholas grinned and opened a closet. He pulled out a duffel bag and began using his magic to throw clothes inside it.

“How long is a small vacation?” Horace asked with suspicion in his voice.

“I’ll be back by Christmas Eve night.” Nicholas’s answer was casual to the point of indifference.

‘Have you taken leave of your senses?” Horace screeched. Nicholas grimaced at the noise. “Your father will have my head if he finds out I’m covering for you, and do you know how much we have to do?”

Nicholas got down to his knees so he was eye level with his friend. “Listen, Horace. I’m going crazy here. It doesn’t feel the same this year. I need some pep in my step, so I am heading out for a few days. Come on, how can it hurt?” He stood up again and mused, “Someplace warm so I can tan and a beach. Horace, my man, I’m heading to the Caribbean!”

Horace stood sputtering as Nicholas snapped his fingers to change his clothes. Instead of the velvet robe and satin pajama pants he wore before, he now wore jeans and a black T-shirt.

“Don’t worry, my friend. I’ll be back in time ready for the worldwide trip of Christmas Eve.” Nicholas grinned as he pulled sunglasses down to cover his eyes.

“Nicky, wait!”

He heard as his friend called him by the nickname of long ago, and that made him leave all the faster. Nicholas knew he had to get away for his own sanity. He just had to. So he left Horace in the middle of his living room screeching his name and phased his way to warm sand and sunny skies.
Trinidad
, here I come!

* * * *

A few hours later, Nicholas sat on the beach and sighed in contentment. He had used his powers and sent himself reeling through time and space to Castara beach on the Trinidadian coast. The trade winds blowing across the ocean brought the smell of the sea to his nose. The sunrays chased the cold and frost from him, and he felt like a new man. Instead of a Jack and Coke, now he had a coconut in his hand, and he took a sip of the sweet frothy drink. He didn’t know what it was, but hell it had rum in it, and that was all that mattered.

The music spilling across the beach from various beach bars and hotels was Christmas tunes blended with Soca music. It gave the same old songs a beat that everyone could dance to. And they did. Nicholas watched up and down the beach as revelers enjoyed Christmas holiday in the sun, dancing, playing, and swimming. It just went to show that regardless of if they were—in the middle of snow or making castles in the sand, everyone had the holiday spirit flowing through them.
Some more than others
, Nicholas thought with a grin as one tourist came cavorting down the beach singing at the top of his voice.
He’s filled with two kinds of spirit, and one was a hundred proof.
Nicholas leaned back and sighed in contentment. This was living, and he decided then and there to take a vacation every year.

“Hey, will you help me here for one second?” A woman’s voice met his ears, and Nicholas paid it no mind thinking the person meant someone else. “Hey, guy with the expensive sunglasses, a little help here please!”

“Okay, she meant me,” Nicholas murmured. He pulled his sunglasses up to his forehead and looked out in front of him.

There stood a Nubian goddess straight out of the many books he had read over the expanse of time. Her hair was wet and hung in dark curls down her back. Dark eyes stared out at him with a mix of irritation and frustration from an oval face. Her lips were soft, and the bottom lip pouted all on its own, causing him to want to kiss them to see what she tasted like. But nothing could compare to her skin. It seemed to glow as the sun’s rays kissed it a dark bronze color. This was a woman, and Nicholas felt the stirring of desire deep within him. Sand clung to her skin, and he found himself wishing he were every single grain that was stuck against her skin.

“So are you going to stare all day or help me with this thing?” The soft lilt of her voice brought him back to the present. He noticed she had a rope wrapped around her hand keeping a Jet Ski in the shallow surf.

“Of course. I’m sorry. I, um . . . got distracted.” Nicholas threw her a charming smile, and she in turn rolled her eyes.

Together, they pulled the water machine into the soft sand. As soon as they did, the attractive beauty was on her knees. She lifted the seat and proceeded to mess with the its mechanics.

“Should you be doing that?” Nicholas asked. Worry filled him as he watched her tinker with the machine.

“Who else is going to do it?” Her voice held the sweetness of a lemon. Nicholas winced at the tone. “The idiot tourists who rented from me and proceeded to get water into the lines, and when it stalled, they bailed and left it in the ocean and went on board their cruise ship to drink some more?”

“Okay, I guess you do know what you are doing,” Nicholas commented. “Can I do anything to help?’

“Stay outta my way,” she muttered. Nicholas stared down at her until she looked up at him. She sighed all of a sudden and stood up wiping her hands on her very short shorts. “I’m sorry for being rude. This time of year is not my favorite. Thanks for helping me.”

‘You’re welcome . . .” Nicholas left the sentence open hoping for a name to be added on.

She obliged him. “Neeva Monroe.

Nicholas held out his hand to take hers in a handshake. “Nicholas Kringle.”

She smiled when she heard his name. “Well, that name is one for the books. Isn’t that Santa Claus’s real name?”

“One of many. I should know. I am the one and only.” Nicholas bowed low. When he looked at her again, she was staring at him with her mouth open.

“So you’re telling me you are the old fat guy who delivers presents on Christmas Eve?” Neeva asked with skepticism in every word.

“That’s only one form I can take,” Nicholas explained with ease.

“Uh-huh and you are here on a beach a few days before Christmas because . . .”

“Because I was burned out a little bit, so I jetted away for a while. I have my best guys on the job.” He grinned as her mouth dropped open.

“Okay, and here I was thinking you were at least one normal sober tourist on this island for Christmas. It’s obvious I was wrong, and you’re nuts to boot,” Neeva said. “Well, see ya, and I hope you sober up okay.”

“You don’t believe me?” Nicholas ran to catch up to her as she moved up the beach.

“You thought I’d believe that you’re Santa Claus looking like you just stepped out of a model magazine onto our beach?” Neeva asked. Skepticism laced her every word. “Do you want to sell me the
Brooklyn
Bridge
too?”

Nicholas scratched his head. “I don’t own the
Brooklyn
Bridge
. That thing freaks Rudolph out every year when he flies by it, so why would I want to sell it to you?”

“You are a whack-a-doodle. Why are you telling this spiel of nonsense?” Neeva said. He could hear the amazement in her voice.

“I love how you say nonsense. That accent is so sexy,” Nicholas replied with a smile. “I am telling you because I think I love you already, and we should never start a relationship with secrets.”

“Listen, um, Nicholas, is it? You stay on that side of the sand, and I’ll stay over here. Thanks for the help.” Starting up the beach again, she threw a cautious gaze over her shoulder.

“Aren’t you going to tell me Merry Christmas?” he called to her. His Nubian goddess, she would make a good Mrs. Claus.

“What’s so merry about it? Leave me alone, Nicholas Kringle, or whoever you are!” She called behind her and then disappeared into a stand of palm trees that lined the beach.

He stood and watched the sexy curve of her tush disappear. He would have only a few days to convince her to come home with him. Up to the day before Christmas Eve, he estimated. He would make a very long distance call to his mother and explain the situation. She would hold down the fort the best she could. She always told him that when he found the right one, his heart would know. If the flip-flops his heart was doing was not enough to let him know this girl on the beach was the one, Nicholas did not know what was.
Neeva Monroe.
Her name was now etched in his soul, and he would make her his own.