After ice skating, I take her to the cafe, Serendipity 3, from that movie she loves. Even with the streets deserted, there’s a line ten-deep waiting for a table.

Sophie’s face falls. “We can go to some other place,” she says, in a voice that tells me she’s got her heart set on this particular mug of frozen hot chocolate at this particular cafe.

“Wait here, let me see if they can squeeze us in.” I leave her standing in line and I make my way up to the hostess. “Hi,” I start, flashing her my best rock-star grin. For the first time all day, I’m glad someone recognizes me: the woman’s eyes widen, and she flushes with excitement.

“Hi… Um, hi.” She stutters. “Austin. Wow. I’m a big fan.”

Good.

I lean over the desk and drop my voice. “So, here’s the thing,” I tell her, “my friend and I are running kind of late, but we’d love to grab a table. Is there any way at all you could squeeze us in?”

She bites her lip. “I don’t know…” she checks the line behind us, full of eager tourists all jostling for a spot.

“For me?” I wink. She blushes again.

“OK, those guys are just leaving.” She nods to a table in the corner. “I can fit you in if you’re quick.”

“You’re an angel,” I smile. “Here, write down your details, and I’ll hook you up with some tickets when we’re next in town.”

“Really?” She brightens. “That would be so cool. I would just die if I got to meet Dex—” She catches herself. “I mean, I like you too, but—”

“That’s OK,” I laugh. “I’ll have him give you a call, how about that?”

She practically swoons right there behind the desk. Mission accomplished, I beckon Sophie over. “They found our reservation, sweetie,” I say loudly, when the middle-aged guy behind us starts to grumble. I feel guilty for a moment about skipping the line, but the glow on Sophie’s face as we head to our table makes it all worthwhile.

“Put his bill on my tab,” I tell the hostess quietly. “In fact, everyone we just skipped. I’ll take care of it all.”

“Of course,” she nods eagerly. “Anything else?”

“We’re set, thank you.”

I turn back to Sophie to find her smirking at me with a knowing expression.

“What?” I ask, sliding into the booth. For a moment, I wonder if my cover is blown and she’s figured out my real identity, but instead, she just grins.

“You charm the pants off everyone, don’t you?”

“There’s only one set of pants I want to get into.” I waggle my eyebrows.

She bursts out laughing. “Real smooth.”

I watch her across the table as she scans the menu, her pretty eyes darting over the page. I should come clean to her, I know, and tell her who I really am, but I’m enjoying this too much. It’s been years since I could relax, and be myself with a woman like this, and not wonder in the back of my brain if they’re really just here for the status and fame. I never minded it really— hell, what red-blooded guy doesn’t love the fact girls fall at his feet?—but being with Sophie is so refreshing that I realize I’ve been missing out.

She likes me. Not my record deal, or the VIP passes, being able to brag to her friends, or get her name in the gossip columns.

Just me.

Sophie glances up, and catches me staring. She raises her eyebrows. “What?”

“Nothing,” I lie.

I’ll tell her later, I promise myself. For now, I don’t want anything to ruin this day.

* * *

It’s afternoon by the time we head back to the hotel. Already, it’s getting dark out, the streetlights flickering to life over the quiet, snow-dusted streets.

“I’ve never seen the city so empty,” I say, looking around. “Everybody’s probably taking a nap in front of the TV right now, stuffed with Christmas dinner.”

“A nap sounds pretty good.,” Sophie snuggles closer against me. I wrap my arm around her and think of lying on the couch with her and watching old movies. Twenty-four hours ago it would have seemed like a drag, but now, I can’t wait to get back to the hotel and just relax.

“I can’t believe you ordered all that food to go.” Sophie nudges me, looking at the huge bag I’m carrying in my other hand. “We just ate a ton!”

“You’ll be thanking me later.” I draw her closer. “I plan on us working up an appetite.”

Sophie smirks. “You mean hitting the gym? Going for a run? You go right ahead,” she says sweetly. “I’ll be waiting in my pajamas when you get back.”

“Not so fast.” I spin her around suddenly, bringing her in against my chest. Her body is warm and soft through her padded coat, and her eyes sparkle with excitement as I graze my thumb slowly over her lips. “I’ve got plans for you,” I murmur, loving the heat that flares in her eyes, and the way her mouth falls open against my touch. “Hot, sweaty, scream-the-roof-down plans.”

Sophie shivers. “I think I could—”

But her reply is lost under my kiss. I claim her mouth, searching, teasing, licking gently at her lips to taste before I slide my tongue deep, gorging on her sweetness. She melts against me, clutching at my jacket and kissing me back with a fevered enthusiasm that makes my blood boil. God, her passion is incredible, the eagerness of her lips, her hands…

That sinful body.

I’m drowning in the feel of her, when suddenly, she pulls back. “It’s snowing!” she exclaims, her face lighting up. She tips her head back, looking upwards at the cloudy sky. “Look!”

Sure enough, tiny wet snowflakes are tumbling all around us. Sophie spins around happily. “I can’t believe it snowed on Christmas!” She laughs. “I got my perfect holiday after all!”

She closes her eyes and sticks her tongue out to catch the snowflakes. And suddenly, I realize that the holidays won’t be enough with this woman. I want to see her face light up like this on New Year’s Eve, on Valentine’s Day. Summer vacations and Thanksgiving feasts. We haven’t talked much about the real lives waiting for us after this trip is over, but I want to.

I want to make a plan, make this real somehow. More than just a random perfect weekend. More than two strangers finding each other at exactly the right time and place.

I want this to be the beginning with her.

* * *

Back at the hotel, I tell Sophie to go up to the room ahead of me. “I have one last surprise,” I tell her, handing her my keycard.

She gives me a devilish grin. “Me too.” She leans closer, to whisper in my ear. “And it maybe involves some new lingerie I never got to wear…”

My blood surges. “Damn, woman.” I pull her in for another searing kiss. “How am I supposed to function with that image in my head?”

“I’m sure you’ll find a way.” Sophie ducks away. “Don’t take too long. I might have to start without you…”

My jaw drops.

“The movies,” she says, teasing. “Whatever did you think I meant?”

With a wink, she spins on her heel and heads for the elevator. I take a moment to get back the power of thought, then detour via the hotel restaurant. It’s almost empty, so the bored busboy clearing plates just gives me a nod as I go to display of Christmas trees in the corner. Even the smallest one is about the same size as me, but I manage to hoist it over my shoulder. I look a pretty strange sight carrying it across the lobby, but I don’t care. It’s not a real holiday without a holiday tree.

And we may not have any gifts tonight, but that doesn’t mean I won’t be unwrapping Sophie, one layer of clothing at a time.

It takes me forever to haul it into the elevator and down the hallway to my room. I struggle to tap on the door.

“Sophie?” I call. There’s no reply. “You better be taking off all your clothes right now,” I grunt, reaching to knock again. But the door swings open, it was left on the latch.

“Taking off all your clothes, and running a bubble bath,” I add, dragging the tree into the room. Ornaments tumble to the ground as I set it down in the corner and look around.

“Sounds like a good idea to me.”

The voice comes from behind me, but it’s all wrong.

I spin around. No.

It’s Anika, strutting towards me in a silk robe—and not much else.

I panic. “How long have you been here?” I demand, looking around. “How did you get in?”

“The bellboy got me a key,” she coos, reaching me. She runs her hands over my chest. “Surprise!”

I wrench away. “I thought you were in Miami for the holidays.”

“I got a red-eye, like you said.” Anika bats her eyelashes at me. “Aren’t you happy to see me?”

There’s an edge to her voice that makes my blood run cold. “Where’s Sophie?” I ask flatly.

Anika pretends to think. “Sophie, Sophie…” She taps a blood-red nail to her jaw. “Hmmm.”

“Don’t mess around with this,” I growl, pacing away. I check the bathroom, and the bedroom too, but the suite is empty.

And Sophie’s things are gone. No high heels scattered on the floor, no dress from last night, no coat hanging over the chair.

Shit.

I return to the living room, where Anika is sprawled over the couch. Her limbs are draped seductively, covered in silk and satin, but I couldn’t care less. “Where did she go?” I demand, my heartbeat racing with fear. “Tell me right now!”

“That mousy girl you had up here?” Anika sneers. “I thought she was your assistant.”

“Dammit, Anika—” I stop, fighting to keep my temper. “What did you tell her?”

“The truth.” She gives me a smug little smile. “That I was your girlfriend. She seemed rather upset. I guess someone’s been telling lies.”

“We were never like that,” I exclaim. “You were the one who wanted to keep things casual!”

“Well, I changed my mind. That’s why I’m here,” she smiles. “I don’t mind about that girl. I forgive you, I know she doesn’t mean anything to you.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.”

I turn on my heel and hurry back out of the suite. The elevator takes too long, so I take the stairs instead, racing two at a time down to the lobby as the sick feeling in my chest grows tighter.

Where did she go? How can I get her back?

I burst into the lobby and head for the desk. There are people there checking out, but I impatiently edge them aside. “I need to know a room number,” I demand, “one of your guests. Sophie…” I stop. I don’t know her last name. “Sophie something, it was the second floor.”

The clerk stares back, stony-faced. “I’m afraid we can’t give out that information.”

“Dammit!” I slam my hand against the desk, then catch myself. “I’m sorry, but I really need to find her.”

“Austin?”

I turn. It’s the friendly receptionist, Patrice. “Thank God.” I go to her, desperate. “The woman I was with, Sophie, do you know her room number?”

“I…yes…” Patrice gives the clerk on duty a quick look, then turns us away from him. “But you’re too late, she just checked out.”

My heart falls. “That’s impossible!”

“I’m sorry.” Patrice looks anxious. “But she was just here. She came tearing through, she seemed upset. She went out front to catch a cab.”

I look to the exit. “How long ago?” I demand.

“A couple minutes, maybe? But—”

Patrice’s answer is lost as I sprint for the front doors. I burst outside, looking wildly around. The sidewalk is busier now, cabs and traffic clogging the street.

“Sophie!” I yell, scanning the crowd. “Sophie, wait!”

But there’s no sign of her. I search in vain, but it’s too late. I’m too late.

She’s gone.