"You still haven’t said what you do for a living. Well?" Jacq prompted impatiently. "Are you going to tell me or is it a deep, dark secret?"

Mathias shrugged. "No secret. I’m a... I guess you could call me a procurer."

Releasing her seatbelt, Jacq swiveled to face him, staring in disbelief. "A procurer? Like a... A... You’re kidding right?"

"Nope. I’m dead serious."

She regarded him suspiciously. It couldn’t be what she was thinking. Not her dragon. He wouldn’t do anything so unethical. "Okay... Would you care to tell me what, precisely, you procure? Or is that a question you’d prefer I not ask?"

He relaxed into the leather seat, clearly at home in the darkness. "You have the most revealing eyes of anyone I’ve ever met," he commented reflectively. "You think I’m a white slaver or an international jewel thief, don’t you?"

She squirmed beneath his unblinking gaze. "If it makes you feel any better I almost immediately realized that you wouldn’t do anything so awful," she confessed.

"You realized that, did you? After less than an hour’s acquaintance you know me so well? Mind if I ask how you came to that conclusion?"

"It’s because you’re--"

He held up a hand, cutting her off. "Forget it. I suspect it has to do with colors again, doesn’t it?"

"Well, yes. As a matter of fact, it does. I suspect your ethics are as well-defined as everything else in your life." She hoped he’d find the word "well-defined" a tactful alternative to "rigid." "But you did have me going for a minute there. The term ‘procurer’ does have a suggestive ring to it."

"It’s a fanciful word for a mundane job," he admitted with a smile. "I suppose I like it because it evokes a much more interesting response than when I say I’m a middle man."

"A middle man, huh? And what is it you’re in the middle of, exactly?"

"I don’t have a specialty. People come to me because they’re having difficulty obtaining something they want or need. I get it for them. It’s as simple as that."

"Somehow I doubt it is."

"It can be a challenge at times," was all he’d concede.

"But you’ve never failed to meet that challenge, have you?" she guessed shrewdly. "You’ve always succeeded in your various procurements."

He hesitated before responding. "Since I started the business, I’ve never failed."

Something in the way he phrased his response gave her pause. But she was too interested in learning more to dwell on it. "What sort of things do you procure?"

"Anything a person desires, so long as it’s legal and ethical."

"And who determines whether or not it’s ethical?"

"I do."

"Ah. That black-and-white quality of yours." A sudden thought occurred to her and she frowned. "And tonight? Let me guess... You’re here to make a procurement, right?"

He stiffened and she realized she’d made a lucky hit based on wild speculation. "Very clever, Jacq."

She lowered her gaze in the hopes of concealing her disillusionment. "So who or what are you procuring?"

He leaned closer, snagging one of the curls brushing her temple. It wrapped around his finger with all the determination of a fast-growing vine. "Let’s set the record straight, shall we? First, I invited you out tonight because I wanted to. It had nothing to do with business. Nor did it have anything to do with this evening’s procurement. And second, I’m obligated to attend this party. I brought you along because it would make the occasion more enjoyable. Selfish, but true."

"Still... You’re killing two birds with one stone again."

He sighed. "I can see that’s a practice you don’t appreciate. I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again."

"Don’t worry about it."

"Polite reply, though painfully stilted." He waited a beat, then asked, "What’s wrong, Jacq?"

She took a deep breath. "I don’t like mixing work and pleasure." She shot him a cool, direct look. "In particular I dislike mixing family business with a personal relationship. If you’re using me to get information about my relatives, I’d rather you be frank about it. I’ll tell you what you want to know, since they have nothing to hide. But don’t lie to me about what you’re after."

"Fair enough." He shifted closer, his eyes like flaming chips of green ice. "The truth is this... I don’t give a damn about your family’s business. Approaching them was the easiest way to get at you. Is that frank enough?"

It took a full minute to realize she was holding her breath. She released it on a ragged sigh. "Yes. That’s frank enough for me."

"I could have had your father come to my office. But since you don’t work for him, I would have lost the opportunity to obtain an introduction."

"There were other ways to arrange a meeting," she reminded.

"Such as phoning. We’ve already discussed why that wouldn’t have worked." His thumb brushed the arch of her cheek eliciting a helpless shiver. "This was the way that occurred to me, so it’s the one I chose. Still frank enough?"

"Absolutely." If anything, he’d become too frank. As much as she wanted to pull away and end the conversation, the curl he’d snagged held her anchored to within inches of him.

"And finally, I didn’t invite you tonight because I needed a date. Nor did I invite you because you’d provide a convenient ‘cover’ to hide my activities. If anything you’re going to be one hell of a distraction. I invited you because I was too damned impatient to wait for a more convenient time. I wanted to get to know you right away."

"J.J. says you never act without examining all the angles first," she protested helplessly.

His gaze took fire. "I have examined all the angles. Every last one of them. And now I’m acting."

"Why?" Bewilderment clouded her eyes. "Why me?"

"It’s real simple, sweetheart. From the minute I saw you I wanted you. I’ve never experienced such an immediate attraction before. So instead of taking it slow, finding a more traditional means of approach, I came after you as hard and fast as I could."

It was too much, too soon. She scrambled for a way to change the subject. "Tell me what you’re hoping to procure tonight. Maybe I can help."

"Now you want to help?" He released her curl with great care and eased back against his seat. "A minute ago you refused to mix business with pleasure."

"Oh. Well, that was my business we couldn’t mix. Your business is fine with me." His confused expression almost made her laugh. Confusion looked good on him, she decided. It devastated his self-control and allowed her a tantalizing peek at the man behind the mask. "I mean... I don’t mind helping if it doesn’t have anything to do with me. So what are you after?"

He recovered his composure with amazing speed. "I’m here to procure information about our hostess, Lynn Davenport."

"This information you need... It won’t hurt her, will it?" Jacq asked uneasily. "I mean, this is for a good cause, right?"

"It’s for a very good cause."

She took a split second to decide. There was a gentle reassurance in his tone and a steadiness in his gaze that helped persuade her. Whatever this procurement involved, he’d make sure it didn’t harm anyone. She gave a determined nod. "In that case, let’s go have some fun." She opened the car door, calling over her shoulder, "Follow my lead. Okay?"

He almost laughed aloud and it was in that precise moment that Mathias realized he didn’t want Jacq Randell for his client. He wanted her for himself. He wanted her with an intensity he’d never experienced with another woman, not even his former wife.

She paused in the middle of the walkway. "Are you coming?"

Curious to see what she intended, Mathias climbed from the car and followed. She still wore his jacket. In fact, it swamped her slender figure. Her brightly patterned skirt billowing out from underneath, flicking at him like a beckoning hand. She walked toward the front door with a purposeful step. He liked that, liked even more the way her brown and gold streaked curls bounced in rhythm with her stride.

One of these days he’d free those curls so they could spill across her creamy shoulders to the tender slopes of her breasts as nature intended. Then he’d lower her onto his bed and watch her hair tumble in glorious abandonment across the sheets. And finally he’d sink his fingers deep into those soft, vibrant curls at the same moment he sank himself deep into her soft, vibrant feminine warmth.

There was only one stumbling block. He suspected Jacq would prove a difficult woman to woo to bed. Her eyes reflected an intense wariness. She’d been burned at some point. Badly. And of course, there was that other matter to resolve. Once he’d proven to his satisfaction that Jacq Randell and Jack Rabbitt were one and the same, he’d have to deal with the problems that would create. But he’d find a way. Until then, he’d have to exercise both patience and delicacy.

Without a doubt, it would take a full measure of both to procure this particular woman.

Related books:

Read the first Gem Book:  The Twenty-Four Hour Bride

You met Jacq Randell in Her Secret Santa, now read her sister, J.J.'s story in The Miracle Wife

Mathias Blackstone grants another Christmas wish -- this time for Joe Milano and Maddie Wallace in "A Man For All Seasonings" in the Christmas Treats Anthology.

• Finalist for 1998 RITA Award, Traditional Category.

• Winner of Colorado Romance Writers 1998 Award of Excellence, Short Contemporary Category.

• Winner of 1998 Golden Quill Award, Traditional Category.

• Winner of Romantic Times 1997 Reviewers’ Choice Award for Best Harlequin Romance.

• Winner of Romantic Times 1997 Career Achievement Award, Love and Laughter Category.

• Finalist for 1998 Holt Medallion Award, Traditional Category.

"In HER SECRET SANTA (4 ½ Gold), Day Leclaire makes a potent magic, penning a sure keeper with dynamite characters, riveting scenes and a glorious plot." Review by Shannon Short, Romantic Times

Copyright © 1997 by Day Leclaire.  ® and ™ are trademarks of the publisher.  This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.  For more romance information surf to: http://www.eharlequin.com