A Ghost for Christmas Read online

  She swiped the key pass and turned the handle. As she crossed the threshold, her breath caught at seeing the splendor before her.

  Large crystal chandeliers hung from high ceilings, a grand piano enhanced the living area, as did the large flat screen TV that adorned the wall. The sitting room was rich with dark green tones and a large window showed off a view she planned to take pictures of and hang at home.

  Voluminous and vibrant water surged over the falls, mist rising into the air like fog. The sunset of soft pastels flourished over the horizon and cast a vivid glow on the churning fresh lake.

  She walked through the suite to the first door on the left. It looked like a den or small office.

  Striking blue and silver colors filled the room, giving it a masculine feel. A large, possibly Victorian, antique writing desk sat in the corner, complete with pen and quill. Jodie walked closer and ran her hand over the fine, dark finish. Beautiful, intricate and ornate designs were carved on the solid hardwood. Eighteenth century black armchairs sat in front of the desk and in corners.

  The plush room invited and pulled her in. Jodie turned, her gaze drawn to the framed newspaper clippings hanging on the walls. Curious, she moved closer.

  Woman Meets the Ghost of her Dreams In Hotel.

  What the heck? Jodie peered intently at the picture taken of this very building. She looked at the second frame. Ghost Fulfills Every Fantasy. Again, the Castillo Hotel was featured in the article.

  She ran her gaze swiftly over each of the wall hangings and noted at least a dozen headlines mentioning the ghost. Women came to this hotel and found a night full of passion, realized fantasies, and left with memories they’d carry forever.

  A chill ran down her spine. Looking back at each one, she read the small caption at the bottom. She gasped as she noted each ghostly sighting was in Suite 3023

  .

  My room!

  A cold breeze washed over her. Goose bumps spread along her skin. She shuddered and wrapped her arms around herself as the hair on her nape rose. It was strange. As she walked around the office, it was as if the temperature had dropped about ten degrees.

  She didn’t believe in ghosts. Had never seen anything to prove they existed. These articles had to be a publicity stunt. There was no ghost residing in the suite. What nonsense.

  A cool breeze raced down her spine. It has to be nothing more than the air conditioning, she thought just as she felt a feather-like touch. Jodie jumped, certain fingertips ran over her shoulders.

  She was being ridiculous, of course. There was no such thing as ghosts. What a silly notion, drummed up as a PR stunt to get more guests to the hotel.

  Jodie’s gaze moved to the date of the articles.

  December 24th, 2001.

  December 24th, 1991.

  December 24th, 1981.

  December 24th, 1971.

  Moving quickly around the room, her eyes widened as she re-read the dates. The earliest one went back to December 24th, 1811.

  Today’s date was December 24th. Good God, did that mean there was a ghost in the room with her—right now? It wasn’t possible. Things like that only existed in movies and books.

  Another breeze swept through her. With a small cry, Jodie fled the den. As the heat of the sitting room enveloped her like a cocoon, the chill left her body.

  She looked back at the den, unease rolling down her back. Could she have been wrong?

  No. There is no such thing as ghosts. Relax.

  She wished she could. The thought of her evening being ruined thanks to some exaggerated ploy to drum up business didn’t sit well with her. She should call the front desk and request another room.

  Her gaze returned to the window and the view of the falls. No, she wouldn’t kick up a fuss over nothing. It was simply a story to add some glam to the hotel.

  Resolved to keep the suite, ghost stories or not, she would make the most of her friend’s gift. Nothing would ruin that.

  Crossing to the door on the right, she was drawn into the gold and black hues adorning everything in the bedroom. From the king-sized bed to the portraits hanging on the walls to the curtains, the room’s tones warmed her. She couldn’t wait to lay her head on the soft, plush pillows and what looked to be silk sheets beneath the comforter.

  She also imagined herself between the covers, a sexy man above her, pushing inside her until neither of them could breathe.

  Setting her light sweater and purse on the bed, she placed her suitcase beside it, and caught sight of a long-stemmed rose on the bedside table. Wow, this hotel goes all out.

  Picking it up, she inhaled deep. The sweet perfume scent filled her senses. Exquisite.

  Her eyes lifted and she glanced at the clock on the bedside table. Five twenty-five. She wanted to head downstairs to the restaurant for dinner. After unzipping her suitcase, she retrieved her toiletry bag and bathrobe.

  Entering the gleaming bathroom, the large, cherry red tiled Jacuzzi drew her gaze. She’d never had the opportunity to use one before. With a girlish squeal, she set her belongings on the vanity and turned on the water. After removing her clothes, she looked at herself in the mirror, and barely recognized the person looking back.

  Cheeks flushed, eyes wild with excitement, she looked like a woman on the cusp of something magnificent.

  ***

  Jodie stood at the window in the sitting area, admiring the splendid view.

  Although she’d been there once before with her parents, she now held a greater appreciation for the beauty. At eight, she remembered the sound of water rushing over the Falls, but couldn’t recall any of the amazing lights dazzling the night sky now that the sun was setting.

  The night was made for lovers—young or old. Warmth spread through her as she watched a few couples, bundled up, walking hand in hand or with their arms wrapped around one another. They reminded her of her parents.

  Married nearly fifty years, they never ceased to amaze her with their love for one another. Whether it was affectionate glances, playful swats when something was humorous or the lip-locks shared when they thought no one was looking, they’d taught her so much about love and respect. While she was nowhere near ready for kids and marriage, the day would come when she’d find the man with whom to spend the rest of her life.

  She scoffed at herself for thinking such deep thoughts when tonight was about fantasies and not happily ever after. She focused on the rushing water once again. After her long soak in the massive tub, she’d towel-dried her body and wound her hair tight within a second one. Her long, thick dark locks sometimes took an hour or more to dry so she’d had to wind it snug as possible in the hopes of straightening the wavy mess before it turned frizzy.

  Lost in thought and in the view outside, Jodie gasped as a cold breeze moved over her body. She shivered but remained still.

  The hotel really played up the stories. Somewhere, someone was probably sending cold air into the room to make her think she shared the suite with a specter.

  Too bad they chose the wrong woman to mess with. She wouldn’t fall for it.

  Suddenly, as she peered into the reflective glass, a face appeared behind her. Jodie whipped around and fell back against the window.

  Oh my fucking God!

  Before her, in what looked like a shimmering bubble, stood the most breathtakingly beautiful man she’d ever seen. Dressed in a white shirt and black pants, he had dark unruly hair and striking, magnetic blue eyes that held her in place.

  Jodie blinked, uncertain, scared and breathless.

  How was it possible? She’d read the newspaper clippings, yes, but it was unimaginable to think ghosts might actually walk among the living.

  Not everything made sense. She only believed in things that could actually be seen, felt and touched. This seemed surreal.

  Stunned by the apparition before her, dressed in what looked like centuries-old clothes straight out of Esquire, he seemed to look straight through her, and his smile warmed her clear to her toes. Lord, s
he was in trouble.

  “Hello.” Soft and gravelly, his voice alone seduced her…all the way to her toes. Her body quivered and her center tightened.

  Whoa. What the hell am I thinking? There’s a ghost in front of me and I’m ready to jump his bones. Not bloody likely.

  “What are you doing here? Get out. I don’t care who you are, you’re leaving, right now.”

  He frowned. “No need to be frightened. I’ve been here for centuries.”

  Jodie laughed, and not one to wilt like a scared little girl, stood tall. “This is all a joke.” She looked around, up and down, and all over the room. “Are there hidden cameras somewhere? Hey, Ashton, if you’re behind the camera, you can come out now. I’ve been Punk’d good. Thanks and all, but I’d like to get on with my evening without you.”

  “Who is this Ashton? What is a punk? A rake, perhaps?” he asked.

  Jodie squinted. “A rake?” She hadn’t ever heard that term spoken, but had read it in historical romances. No one talked like that these days. “No. Never mind, it’s not important. Listen, I just want you to go. I want to enjoy my evening.”

  His smile was gentle. “I’m sorry, my dear, but this evening every decade is the only time I am visible to the human eye. I never miss a chance to watch the Falls.”

  Every decade…

  “You’re telling me you do this every ten years? How old are you?”

  “I was born in 1781. That makes me—”

  “Two hundred thirty-one,” Jodie whispered, legs weak. She grabbed the back of the chair nearby and sat down. Were such things even possible?

  Jesus.

  An eighteenth century ghost stood before her.

  Merry Christmas to me.

  Chapter Three

  “I am sorry I’ve frightened you, my dear. You are not the first woman to see me, though. Please know I won’t harm you.”

  Jodie looked up. He’d moved closer. She stood quickly and took a step back. No way in hell she could allow him to get close. What kind of game did this hotel run?

  Jesus, he could be a serial killer for all she knew.

  “I have to get out of here,” She started to step around him but he shifted, and the bubble progressed toward her.

  “No, don’t touch me. Oh God!”

  “Wait. Wait. I promise I won’t hurt you. I can’t even touch you. Please just stay,” he implored.

  Taking a deep breath, hearing sincerity in his voice, she hesitated.

  Curiosity made her ask, “What is your name?” she whispered.

  “Sebastian Hanford. I’m pleased to meet you.”

  Jodie shook her head. She had to be out of her mind. She was having a conversation with a ghost. No one would believe her. Hell, she hardly believed it.

  “Why this one night every decade? How is it possible for me to see you?”

  He smiled. “First tell me your name, please.”

  “Jodie. Jodie Gibson.”

  “A beautiful name for an exceptional creature.”

  Jodie couldn’t hide a grin at the smooth compliment. In his lifetime, he was probably a notorious rake. “Thank you. Please tell me how all this is possible.”

  “I died on December 24th, 1811.” He smiled reassuringly when she gasped. “It’s all right, my dear, it wasn’t a tragic death. I came to the hotel to write. I was in the middle of penning a story of my family’s history. I loved this place for the inspiration of the view outside but my heart wasn’t good. I was born with a bad heart and was blessed to have lived thirty years.”

  Sadness filled Jodie. So young…. “How is it that you’re still here?”

  “I’m not sure. After I died, I floated. I feel I’ve been floating forever. I’m not sure if there is another side or plain I’m supposed to be on, but I’ve always remained in this hotel. Every ten years, I find myself in front of this window or sitting at the desk writing.”

  “What about the articles? All the women who have seen you?” Jodie couldn’t understand it. She didn’t read ghost stories, never paid much attention to those who said they had something paranormal happen to them. She didn’t know anything about the “other side” or about ghosts or how humans were able to see them. She was totally out of her depth with all this.

  “Oh, a man has to find his pleasure. Even as a ghost.” He smirked mischievously. Jodie couldn’t help giggle.

  He was a fine specimen of male goodness. Strong and lean, feet bare, his trousers fit him like a well-worn glove and showed off muscular thighs. He was gorgeous.

  A shiver ran down her spine.

  “So all the women…you and they…”

  He snickered. “Oh yes, some of the best evenings I’ve found here have been in the arms of women who are lonely and looking for a night in a man’s arms who will show them pure passion and just how special they are.”

  Jodie blushed. He’d practically described everything she was feeling, and fantasies she had.

  “You seem sad. Why don’t you share your thoughts?”

  Jodie shook her head, stood, and moved to the sofa. “I’m not sad.” Liar. “Well, a little bit maybe. I can relate to those women I guess.”

  Why she was revealing her thoughts and feels to a complete stranger—a ghost no less—she had no idea.

  “You know, Jodie, while I float I learn many things. You are not the first woman to ever want to be loved.”

  Jodie lifted her head quickly and she exhaled hard. “I believed you before, but now there is no doubt about it. You really are a ghost. No one but my best friend knew I’d be here.”

  “It’s all right. I wouldn’t judge you if you didn’t believe me. It takes a better part of the evening for the women who come here to understand. It’s gotten easier the last couple of times, though. Your world has become…more accepting I suppose.”

  Jodie believed it. With TV, books and movies, writers and directors were pushing the boundary on all things supernatural and otherworldly. But that was all fiction. There were still some things she couldn’t grasp, and needed more evidence.

  “How is it…how…? Never mind. It’s ridiculous to ask.”

  “You are welcome to ask me anything.” He moved closer.

  Jodie didn’t know how it was possible, though he remained suspended in air, he looked as if he were on the sofa beside her.

  “How is it that you’re able to touch someone? You look as if you’re in a bubble.”

  “Why don’t you see if you can? I know you won’t be able to touch me right now, but you are welcome to try.”

  Was she brave enough to touch a ghost? Would anything happen to her if she did? Gathering her courage, she scooted along the sofa. Lifting her hand, she reached out, shaking and…nothing. It was as if she were swinging her hand in the air.

  He wasn’t there. Yet, he was.

  “Feel better?” Sebastian grinned, eyes twinkling.

  Jodie laughed, more at herself than the situation. This was completely ridiculous.

  “There is only one way for you to touch me, Jodie.” His husky voice pulled her in and washed over her.

  Her gaze ran over his body. His shirt was unbuttoned enough for her to see a light peppering of dark hair on his chest. His sleeves were rolled to his forearms. His skin’s golden color was sexy. She always loved a man with a full-bodied tan. Touching him would be amazing. She wanted nothing more in that moment.

  Her body flushed, as she thought about how his large hands could tease and sculpt her.

  “How?” she whispered, her own voice hoarse and raspy.

  “You only have to trust in me. Believe I’m real.”

  Jodie’s eyes filled with moisture, surprising her. The plea in his voice hit her square in the chest.

  She understood.

  While he seemed strong and confident, he was isolated.

  Every ten years, he had to hope the woman who saw him would accept and be open to knowing him for the evening. She could see it in his eyes, heard it in his voice.

  Two souls needing t
he connection. That was what he must yearn for in the intervening years. It had been too long for her as well. Longer than she’d like to admit since she was at the center of someone else’s world.

  She stood. Closing her eyes, she shored up her courage. She could do this. Needed to.

  She met his gaze. “I believe you, Sebastian Hanford. And I’d love to spend the evening with you.”

  From the tips of her fingers to her toes, goose bumps rushed over her skin.

  The bubble around Sebastian disappeared. He stood before her, strong and proud. His electric-blue eyes mesmerized her.

  Drowning in the depths, Jodie jumped as his fingers slid against her cheek. His skin was warm to the touch, much hotter than she thought. Air rushed from her body, making her light-headed. Lord, she craved his attention. She wanted to be with him.

  Her nipples tightened, her inner muscles clenched in anticipation.

  His woodsy scent intoxicated her. Standing next to him made her feel drunk.

  Sebastian’s masculinity pulled at her. Yearning, stronger than she’d experienced in years, flooded her. Spending the night with this man, exploring every facet of his supernatural existence, amplified her need and desire.

  “You are very beautiful, Jodie.”

  She smiled, and twined her fingers with his.

  He probably said the same to every woman he encountered, but she didn’t care. Tonight was for her…hell, for them both. She wouldn’t shatter the moment. “Thank you, Sebastian.”

  “What brought you here?”

  “My friend arranged it as a Christmas gift.” Jodie blushed. “I tend not to put myself first. Work and home is about all the adventures in my life these days.” She chuckled, embarrassed.

  “The stupidity of today’s men to not vie for your attention is my gain. I’m so very glad you’re here.”

  A wave of pleasure spread through her. He understood. It made him all the more attractive.

  “Yes, well, Portia—said friend—took pity on me.”

  “Sounds like a great friend. Please thank her for me. If you ever tell her, of course.” His grin spread ear to ear.