by C J Burright
“Potential mistletoe encounter in the law library,” Karen whispered in a rush, her cheeks flushed, eyes bright. “Lisette is on the move.” As quickly as she’d arrived, she was gone on a cinnamon-scented draft.
Gia jumped up so fast that her chair spun in a circle. She made the door just in time to catch a flash of black plaid, forest-green sweater and Karen’s auburn hair disappearing around the corner at the end of the hall. The woman could move like a bullet, even in her high-heeled boots.
Scrambling to get to the library in time—no way would she miss Lisette planting a sloppy kiss on O’Connor—she hustled down the hall, her heart beating fast. Maybe she shouldn’t get so excited about juvenile office pranks, but it was the one season of the year Hamilton loosened his strings and looked the other way while the staff had some fun. She wasn’t going to miss out, and if she had to be honest with herself, she needed this…needed something, anything to bring her fully back into the land of the living.
Not as confident as Karen when it came to the combination of speed, balance and stilettos, she hooked the corner with her fingers as she made the turn—and smacked straight into a hard, male chest.
Strong hands caught her as she stumbled and held her steady, her cheek plastered against a soft linen shirt and silk tie. A strange sort of jolt shot through her at the unexpected contact.
“Oof, sorry…” The words were out a breath before she recognized the mild, spicy cologne belonging to Ian. Gripping his solid forearms, she regained her balance and lifted her gaze to his.
“In a rush to meet a deadline, Ms. Hellman?” His blue eyes sparkled with mischief and he held on to her as if she might fall again. His smirk was all sorts of sinful.
“Not anymore.” She sniffed and pulled free, both relieved—and her feminine side slightly disappointed, a fact she’d keep to herself—that he let her go so easily. Being close to him wasn’t a hardship, by any means. She suspected he knew that and used it to his benefit. “Why are you here?”
He leaned one shoulder against the wall, and for some reason she couldn’t define, the relaxed pose made her stomach flip. “Am I supposed to be somewhere else?”
In the law library being smooched by Lisette. “In your office, court or sowing hate and discontent among the good people of Graywood.” She batted her eyelashes.
“I needed a coffee break.” The way he said ‘coffee’, his voice deep and suggestive, gave caffeine a new definition of addictive.
Gia cocked a hip, and despite the warning bells in her head, refused to back down and return to the safety of her office. Growing up in a highly competitive family, she’d learned the dynamics of when to surrender and when to push back. This wasn’t the time to cave, certainly not to this man, who would consider it a weakness and press his advantage. “This direction is a roundabout way to the breakroom, isn’t it?”
“There are certain occasions when taking the long way is both rewarding and”—his attention drifted to her mouth for a moment—“stimulating. I like to keep active whenever possible.”
“Please spare me the details of your extracurricular activities.” She sniffed, ignoring the way her heart had decided to beat harder. Again, he somehow added sexual innuendo to words that were usually boring and completely innocent. Maybe he’d taken an extra credit class in law school—How to Twist Average Words to Your Will.
Ian smoothed his navy-blue tie, still holding her hostage with the force of his eyes, close enough that his body heat brushed over her skin. “It’s a shame you didn’t plant any mistletoe here.” He looked up at the tangled, sparkling garlands of blue-and-white tinsel and ornaments with stars hanging near the eaves. “Or did you?”
“If I had, I wouldn’t be standing here with you within kissing range.” But her pulse picked up speed as she mentally ran through all the clandestine mistletoe locations throughout the office. It would be humiliating to lose to Ian on day one, but no. The sprig she’d hidden in this intersection between two dangling bulbs was on the opposite wall. Whew.
“I might have some in my pocket.” His smirk widened into wicked.
She folded her arms and arched a disdainful eyebrow. “Despite the unfortunate run-in with you a second ago, I’m faster than I look. I’d be long gone before you ever dragged it out.” She added some sugar to her tone, casually keeping track of his hands. “I’m telling you, Mr. O’Connor… You should have donated your bet money to charity instead. The Humane Society could use the extra funds, and if you didn’t want to adopt a pet, maybe you could have found some new female conquests there. You really missed out on a fabulous opportunity.”
“That’s a wonderful idea.” He rubbed his chin, his expression serious. “After I win the bet—which I will—I’ll donate my winnings to the Humane Society and request that they name a section of their building after you, as my earnings will undoubtedly be quite large. Do you prefer cats? Or dogs?”
Insufferable man. “Birds, actually, especially the colorful kind that squawk and learn to repeat words, such as ‘Ian lost’ or ‘overconfidence kills’.” She batted her eyelashes and straightened her skewed red sweater. “But I’m guessing you’re more into rodents.”
“The wilder, the better. I don’t mind being bitten—and I always bite back.” He slipped his hands into his pockets. Once again, he’d left his jacket behind and his sleeves were rolled up, exposing the strong, sexy forearms she’d used for balance only a minute before. The men who were most hazardous to a girl’s health always seemed to come in the best packages.
“That explains your rabid nature.” Gia clicked her teeth together in a bite of her own. “Your bet money could have bought you a shot or two. Then again, there might not be any cure for your type of infection.”
“I have an even better idea.” He lowered his voice into a honeyed drawl and his attention again dropped to her lips and stayed there. “We could forgo all bets and mistletoe. No one else is around. You can kiss me now for thirty seconds, maybe a minute, but if you want it to go on longer, we’ll have to retire to your office and shut the door.” His mouth curled into a half-smile. “I promise I won’t tell.”
She gasped and lifted a hand to her throat, only half-pretending. “Are you propositioning me, Mr. O’Connor? I’m shocked, not to mention appalled, that you’d go to such sordid lengths to win a bet.”
He eased closer and his heated gaze drifted over her face and along her neck, as if he couldn’t decide where he wanted to start nibbling first. “You have no idea what lengths I’ll go to for you, Ms. Hellman.”
Her breath caught and it had nothing to do with pretending. Her blood raced faster, suddenly too hot, and a tingling invaded her lips, as if he’d already kissed her, hard and hungry, and left her wanting more. Holy crap, the man is a menace. And she couldn’t stop looking at his mouth, couldn’t stop wondering if he could truly deliver on all the decadent, delicious promises in his darkened eyes.
Probably. But she wasn’t willing to lose the bet to find out.
Subtly, as if drawn against her will, she leaned nearer, keeping her attention on his mouth. Even with her four-inch heels, she had to lift her chin to bring her lips closer to his. Gia made her voice soft and sultry. “Mistletoe or not, I won’t be kissing you—not today, tomorrow or any time on Saturday.” She patted his cheek. “Get used to losing.”
He captured her wrist before she could withdraw her hand, keeping her gently captive. His eyes were blue fire. “I never lose.”
“Keep telling yourself that, O’Connor.”
Holding her gaze, he pressed his mouth to the inside of her wrist at her pulse.
It was silken, lingering, unreasonably heady… Tingles swarmed up her arm and an electric charge throbbed in her body, aching in all the best spots. Gia had a terrible urge to slip her fingers into his dark hair, press against his hard, lean frame and find out if he tasted as fine as he felt against her skin.
The rapid drill of approaching footsteps broke through her daze, saving her from doing somethin
g stupid. She jerked her hand free of his loose hold and narrowed her eyes at him, in case he mistook the heat in her face for anything other than annoyance.
“Always a pleasure, Ms. Hellman.” Wearing a smug smirk, he strolled away, passing Karen as she turned the corner. He nodded at her. “Karen.”
“Ian.” Karen plastered herself against the wall and watched him until he drifted out of sight. Then her laser-point focus turned on Gia. “What did I miss? And don’t even pretend it was nothing, because you look like you’re in dire need of a stiff margarita—or some other object of equal or greater stiffness—to slake your thirst or hunger or whatever it is that’s got you all hot and bothered.”
Gia straightened and smoothed her sweater. “Bothered, not hot. There is a huge difference.” She glared at the corner where Ian had disappeared. “That man is so full of himself.”
Karen leaned against the wall and sighed dreamily, also looking at the point where Ian had vanished. “I wouldn’t object to being full of him.”
“Keep those comments to yourself and don’t feed his ego. He thinks he can win over any woman just by giving her a scorching look or with a few sultry words.” Or a smoldering kiss not even planted on her mouth. Gia resisted fanning herself, the flames in her blood still blazing. No kiss—so small, so meaningless—should have such an effect on her. Maybe there was a secret ingredient in his cologne, something like catnip for women. It took all her strength not to inhale and draw the lingering scent deep into her lungs.
Joey’s kisses had curled her toes, absolutely heated her blood to boiling and softened her body with desire, but there was something different about Ian’s kiss. It burned like an invisible brand on her skin, a claim she hadn’t expected and certainly didn’t want. Joey still owned her heart. She wasn’t ready to take it back, not yet.
“Seriously, G”—Karen straightened—“are you telling me you haven’t thought about what one night with him would be like? Not even once?”
Maybe tonight. “Of course not.” Gia lifted her chin and marched back toward her office. “I gave up flings when I met Joey, and even if I hadn’t, I wouldn’t go home with Ian O’Connor.”
“Why not? He’d be the perfect one-night stand—a no-strings night of hot, passionate, make-you-scream boinking, and he never kisses and tells, at least not from what I’ve heard.” Karen winked. “And you know I would’ve heard.”
“Did you seriously just say ‘boinking’?” At her office doorway, Gia rolled her eyes. “No matter what you call it, if it meant losing the bet against him?” She shook her head. “That’s a big fat ‘hell no’.”
Karen settled a hand on each of Gia’s shoulders and looked deep into her eyes, her expression solemn. “Glitter Girl, if you can’t even admit that Ian is physically attractive, you need to get your sensors back on track. He’s like that ginormous, colorful lollipop in the candy store window that no one ever buys because it’s too expensive, too sweet, too everything. There’s no use denying you want it—everybody wants it—and even if you’ve gone sugar-free, you wouldn’t turn it down if you won it in a raffle.” Her mouth curled into a smile, all mischief. “The first step to freedom is to admit the truth.”
Gia shrugged her hands away and snorted. “I prefer to keep all my teeth and I have a feeling that one lick of Ian would be enough to rot me from the inside out.”
Karen grinned. “Maybe, but damn… What a way to go.”
“There are counselors for your particular kind of sickness.” Gia pushed her out the door. “Let me know when you’re ready to seek help.”
“Never. Sick and twisted is my natural state of mind.” Karen glanced over her shoulder with a wink. “I’ll keep you posted on any Lisette action.”
“Great.” Gia closed the door behind her friend and blew out a long breath. Her body still hummed and the pulse at her wrist where Ian had pressed his lips throbbed in time with her heart, like the memory of a childhood sunburn. Karen was right on one account. It was better to confess the truth than live a lie, but admitting anything about Ian O’Connor, even to herself, might affect her in irreparable ways.
And she had a feeling that if she let Ian affect her in any manner, the road to recovery could be long and painful.
Sudden tears clogged her throat. She didn’t want to be affected, not when Joey still haunted her dreams and thoughts, not when the happily ever after she’d pictured with him felt like it was still sifting between her fingers rather than already vanished into the endless ocean of never.
She wiped at her wet eyes and lifted her chin. She’d already lost the most important, vibrant piece of her life. Losing anything else without a struggle, even if it was a silly bet to someone like Ian O’Connor—no matter how sexy he might or might not be—wasn’t going to happen. She’d fight to win, because it was sure as hell better than sitting back and crying while the prize slipped silently away.
* * * *
Ian tracked Karen down in the breakroom, where she poured coffee into her cup of sugar. “I don’t know why you bother.” He leaned against the counter and grabbed an empty mug from the cupboard. “It would be easier to simply eat the sugar straight out of the container.”
“I like a little darkness with my sweets, if you know what I mean.” She licked the spoon, long and slow, enough of an explanation for the dullest man to understand.
He filled his mug with cheap coffee and did his best to ignore her breast pressing against his arm as she reached across him for a straw. Outside the office, he generally would do nothing to discourage any female attention, but Hamilton & Associates was sacred ground and he always kept work and play separated by miles and miles of space.
With one possible exception. He’d prefer to maintain the status quo, but his growing fascination with Gia Hellman had to be dealt with. Quickly. He couldn’t seem to prevent himself from strolling past her office, hoping for a mere glimpse of her, which was disastrous enough to his self-control. Running into her, having her in his arms for even a few seconds, had been detrimental to his sanity. Her sweet perfume still stained his shirt and he’d nearly gone home to change, simply to clear the memory of her pressed against him.
But he knew himself well enough to understand that a mere change of clothing wouldn’t be enough to erase Gia from his thoughts. He’d need more than a few seconds of her to ease the sweet, aching tension she aroused in him.
“I understand you’ve avoided Lisette and mistletoe.” Karen wriggled her eyebrows. “So far.”
“I don’t mind kissing Lisette,” he said smoothly. “I simply make her work for it. It adds to the intrigue.”
“I never took you for the charitable type.” She laughed. “And I never took you for the hard-to-get type.”
He smiled benignly, letting her arrive at her own conclusions, then pulled a hundred-dollar bill from his pocket. “A new bet.” He handed her the cash. “Put it all on Ms. Hellman.”
Karen’s eyes glittered like fireworks as she plucked the bill from his fingers. “The particulars?”
“She will be kissing me before the end of the holiday party on Saturday, and the kiss will most definitely last longer than thirty seconds. I don’t care what the odds are.”
“Can’t bet on yourself, O’Connor.” All her humor had vanished, whether from concentrating on the prospects of gambling or the bet itself, he wasn’t sure.
“You allowed Ms. Hellman to bet on herself. I demand the same treatment. This is an equal opportunity place of employment, isn’t it?” He waited for her answer, knowing he’d already won by the resignation in her expression. The comment that Gia had bet on herself had merely been an educated guess—her sudden competitiveness had been too fierce to be based on principle alone.
“This will be the one and only time I’ll allow parties to gamble on themselves.” She jabbed her pencil at him, looking fierce. “It’s too easy to manipulate the odds, and since manipulation comes naturally to you, it completely skews the numbers, which I hate.” She shrugged and sipped h
er sugary brew. “But, in this case, since it seems to have inspired Gia, for whatever reason, it’s worth it. I hate seeing her colors dim.”
Something twisted in his heart, strange and foreign. He hadn’t thought about it that way, but Karen was correct. If Gia wasn’t smiling and spreading rainbows wherever she went, the world felt…less. And to know he had a hand, however small, in bringing those vibrant colors back to life after grief had dulled them, brought him a warm and unwanted rush of pleasure.
A chill washed the heat away. He couldn’t let that sensation take root, and by Sunday morning, even the hint of this growing obsession with the office Glitter Girl would be completely and thoroughly satisfied, dragging him back into safe territory, alone, where he needed to be.
Ian pushed away from the counter and assumed his shark smile as he headed from the break room with his coffee. “I’ll be by to collect my winnings on Monday.”
“Every champion has to lose eventually, O’Connor.” Karen’s grin was equally sharp as she lifted her cup in salute. “My bet’s staying on Gia.”
He didn’t bother answering. He was betting on Gia Hellman too—but his wager had nothing to do with money.
Chapter Four
“Are you sure Lisette is on her way?” Gia whispered close to Karen’s ear. “If her timing isn’t perfect, she’ll miss him.” The whisper was unnecessary, considering they were alone…so far. She nearly vibrated with anticipation. Maybe it was ridiculous to hide behind a dumpster near the back door of the Hamilton & Associates building, crouched like a vagabond, her wool hat pulled over her hair, merely to witness Ian being blindsided by the sprig of mistletoe hiding in the giant pine and red ribbon wreath above the door. But she couldn’t deny the thrill humming in her blood.
Karen glanced at her phone. “Ian’s on the move. Lisette should be coming around the other side of the building any second now.”
“I can’t believe he has avoided her all week. It’s Thursday quitting time already and not even a single occasion for a peck on the cheek. The week’s almost gone.”
