Rock My Christmas (FlameSmith in Love Book 1)

by Kitchell, Laura

  He blinked and straightened. “You made me a fresh pizza for breakfast?”

  “I did.” She set the pan atop the stove then planted a pale hand on a jean-clad hip.

  “Is it any good?”

  Her eyes grew a fraction, then her dark demeanor transformed to amusement a second before she barked a laugh. “You decide. Try a piece.”

  While she sliced a piece and placed it on a plate, he wondered how he’d missed her good looks the day before. She had a sweet face and a tight figure, though the top of her head didn’t reach his shoulder. He didn’t typically care for redheads, and thank goodness. This assistant improved by the moment, and he wouldn’t ruin her by taking her to bed.

  He accepted the dish and admired her handiwork. It both looked and smelled delicious. Rubbing a hand across his chest, he realized he stood before her in only his boxer briefs. Too late now.

  “Give it a go,” encouraged Dan who sent a nod to the pizza.

  Burn sampled a bite. Heat scorched his tongue, so he breathed cool air into his mouth. When he chewed, his stomach actually leaped in delight. The crust had a crunch encasing chewy, wholesome bread. A tangy sauce complimented a combination of melted, baked cheeses. The woman could cook.

  Taking another bite, he held out his plate so she could give him a second piece.

  She grinned. “No words needed. That was compliment enough.”

  Dan rested an arm on his blonde’s shoulders. “Kendel makes a tasty omelet, too.”

  “Sod off.” Burn headed to his room as his friend’s laughter filled the kitchen.

  Kendel. His assistant’s name was Kendel. For once, maybe Marty had done him right.

  * * *

  Eighty-six degrees in December had Kendel’s body begging for mercy. She wiped a sheen of perspiration from her hairline while she tried to keep pace with Marty as they speed-walked a circuit of shops along a bustling thoroughfare. A couple times she thought she caught sight of celebrities, but chuckled. Why would they come into this chaos when they could send an employee?

  “Get a credit card from Burn next time you see him,” the Goth woman said over her shoulder then ducked into a shoe store. “Come on. This is a great cut-through to Rodeo Drive.”

  She followed, weaving between customers and salespeople who hummed along to the Christmas carol playing quietly throughout the store, and emerged into sunshine on an immaculate sidewalk. People moved at a slower pace, and she definitely recognized famous faces.

  Marty laughed and gave her a gentle shove. “Don’t go star-struck on me. You’ll get used to it. Just don’t ask for autographs, okay? They’re trying to live their lives, not turn their need for a Christmas present into a promotional appearance.”

  “Gotcha.” She gave her shoulders a shake. “So how do we get to the condos from here?”

  Dan’s assistant pointed. “Three blocks that way. Walking distance. Has he gotten you something to drive?”

  “Not yet.”

  Marty took Kendel’s phone and added herself to the phone contacts. “Jen had her own car and place. You’ll need something, but it’ll have to wait until we get back.”

  “From where?” Her heart beat faster. Beverly Hills qualified as an adventure, but a trip in her first week would make Burn’s cantankerous disposition worth it.

  “Seoul. Two days. Two concerts. Then we’re back for Christmas. What’s your email address? I’ll send you the schedule through April.”

  In a daze, Kendel relayed her email as they headed across the roadway and toward the condominium complex. South Korea. This went beyond her wildest dream. “Wait. I don’t have a passport.”

  Marty stopped short. “Damn it! It was a prerequisite.”

  “I meant to order one, but I got buried in getting my thesis ready for presentation and then all the administrative nonsense required for graduation. Sorry. Maybe I should stay behind.”

  “Like hell.” The woman glanced left and right, snapping impatient fingers. “It’s not noon yet. I think we can do this. Actors do this all the time. Come on.”

  Kendel let Marty half-drag her at a run to a post office decorated on the outside like an enormous foil-wrapped gift. In less than an hour, her forms, photo, and express request were processed with a promise of overnight delivery first thing in the morning.

  “That’s how it’s done. Be glad you didn’t have any security issues that would’ve called for a review.” Dan’s assistant grinned.

  “I didn’t think the government did anything that fast.” She needed a shower. That final sprint had spent what remained of her underarm deodorant’s effectiveness.

  “Are you hungry?” The woman’s blue eyes actually appeared kind for once.

  “I am,” Kendel said, smiling. “But I should get back. I didn’t leave my number with Burn.”

  “Whatever.” Marty offered a dismissive wave. “Don’t call me if you get lost. Use a GPS app.”

  She shook her head and left the woman. Between Burn’s comment about frozen pizza and Marty practically telling her she’d get lost, she had to stifle an urge to growl. Maybe she had a lot to learn, but she wasn’t stupid. She had common sense. Plus, a kid couldn’t grow up with her father and not learn how to find the way around a new place.

  She didn’t need her map app to find the condo. After retracing her steps from the post office to Rodeo Drive, she went the three blocks Marty had indicated. No problem.

  Her security badge scanned her in at the front gate and again at the building’s main entrance. Offering a wave to the guards in the glass-fronted office as she passed, she continued to the elevator. She let air-conditioned coolness wash over her. When they returned from Korea, she’d have to buy some shorts.

  Shorts at Christmas. Why did the idea seem so wrong?

  She unlocked the front door, intending to go straight to her room, but the sight of Burn staring out a window and wearing only his boxer-briefs halted her. He looked exactly as he had at breakfast – deliciously sleepy, sexy, and incredibly hard-bodied. She had managed to hide her reaction this morning, but now she couldn’t force her belly’s flutter into submission.

  Slamming the door, she frowned at him. “Don’t you ever wear clothes?”

  He faced her, appearing more like a sad, lost boy than an angry man. Then his features hardened. “Where have you been? You work for me, and I expect you to be available when I need you.”

  She pointed at him and strode three steps to join him in the living room. “You went back to bed. Look at you. I dare you to deny it. For your information, I needed to order my passport for this trip you failed to mention…unless you’d rather go to Korea without an assistant.”

  So she didn’t tell the whole truth, but she needed this ire to keep her sexual awareness of him in check. He hated her. He employed her. Both excellent reasons to douse this stirring in her traitorous body. Then again, she took a chance he’d fire her for this open belligerence.

  “Very well then.” He raked her with a bored gaze then gave her his telephone number. “Ring me so I have it next time. You’re going to Seoul if I have to smuggle you in with the equipment.”

  Somewhat appeased, she said while she hit the auto-dial, “That won’t be necessary. FedEx is supposed to have my passport here before we leave.”

  His phone buzzed once then stilled when she ended the call. Tense silence stretched between them as they glared at one another.

  Finally, he blinked. “I need you to purchase Christmas gifts. One for my agent. I don’t care what you get. It’ll need to be wrapped for the party tonight. Then I need you to go to Mikimoto on Wilshire. I’ve chosen a gift for my mum, and they’re going to ship it, but I need you to actually look at it. Do you know quality jewelry?”

  She shrugged, dismayed when her belly flutters returned with a vengeance. “I’m no expert, but I know what I like.”

  “Diamonds?”

  “Sure.”

  “Good enough.”

  Her breathing grew shallow as her need in
tensified. “Are we finished? May I go?”

  He studied her a long second. “Fine. Dismissed.”

  Kendel practically ran to her room. The man was an absolute prick. So why did she want him?

  * * *

  After nearly a full minute, Burn snapped out of his haze. What had his PA put in that pizza this morning? He’d never slept harder than after he’d eaten those two slices. Damn it, what was her name? He couldn’t very well call her ‘Hey, Redhead.’

  He went to his room and drew a credit card out of his wallet. At her bedroom door, he cleared his throat. “Erm, hallo?”

  No answer.

  He made to knock, but when his knuckles connected to the door, it opened easily. Concerned, he glanced inside. She wasn’t there. He could’ve sworn she’d come here.

  Then a moan sounded from the bathroom. Had she fallen?

  “I’m coming,” he called and ran to her aid.

  He raced through the bathroom’s open door. The sight of her, pale and perfect under cascading water, her head back and her hand between her thighs, hit him as if he’d slammed into a wall.

  Kendel.

  His mind conjured her name unbidden, unquestionable, and unforgettable. Kendel.

  He needed to leave, but his body was too busy reacting to the vision in the shower to obey his command. “But I don’t care for redheads.”

  She squealed and opened her eyes. Bloody hell. He’d said that aloud. Before she covered her most interesting parts with her arms, her beauty arrested his lungs.

  Her slicked hair brought into prominence the sweet lines of her face. The generous swell of her breasts made her slender shoulders and waist appear more delicate yet. Her womanly hips left no question of her maturity, though her shapely limbs possessed a flawless, untouched quality. There was nothing innocent about the shape of her smooth thighs, calves, and narrow ankles, however. Despite her petite size, she was all woman.

  This was nonsense. He’d had far prettier women. Well, taller, anyway. Blondes. Brunettes. Every hue of skin under the sun. So why did this tiny ginger wind him so tight?

  “Get out!” she thundered.

  “Right. Of course.” Yet he couldn’t tear his eyes from her.

  “Get out!”

  Good Lord, was he having a stroke? Why couldn’t he force his feet to retreat? “I can’t seem— I’m so sorry.”

  Her face pinked and she visibly trembled. Brilliant. Now he could add terrorizing the help to his list of mounting crimes. When her eyes went liquid and her luscious bottom lip began to quiver, he somehow mustered the strength to back to the doorway.

  He held up the charge card. “I’ll leave this on your dresser, shall I? Right then. Okay.”

  As if in a dream, he moved through her bedroom, deposited the card next to her turquoise hair brush, and closed her door on his way out. He stood for a moment with his eyes closed. She’d undone in ten seconds what he’d spent the last eleven years building.

  His cool.

  Chapter Three

  Kendel braced a hand on the shower’s glass wall. Her knees gave, and she sank to her haunches. Burn had stood there in his underwear, and she could only think how badly she wanted him to shed his sole garment and join her in the water. The longer he’d stayed, the more she’d wanted him.

  She’d found only a brief relief at the effort of her fingers, but his appearance in her bathroom had her throbbing and needy as before. He’d stared at her like a starving man. The way he’d raked his gaze over her made her think he might find her beautiful, and that way awaited danger.

  It struck a ridiculous note. The man was an asshole in the first degree, and he’d behaved abominably toward her since she’d arrived. Was she no better than her college friends whom she’d criticized for choosing bad boys and men who treated them poorly? She had more sense, didn’t she?

  “Of course I do.” She stood and washed. “This is simply physical. It doesn’t mean anything.”

  Still, she couldn’t ignore a curiosity about the sadness she’d glimpsed in him when he’d gazed out the living room window. She rinsed then shut off the water but stood unmoving.

  Why had he come to her room in his underwear? And why had he stared at her as if hungry when he could have any woman of his choosing? When she’d told him to leave, he’d said he couldn’t. Why?

  Huffing, she stepped out from behind the glass and used a towel to dry. Maybe she made too much of it. She ought to pretend as though nothing happened. They had enough difficulty getting along without this complication.

  In her bedroom, she searched her reflection in a mirrored closet door. “I’m a kind, generous person. I deserve better.”

  She didn’t like who she became around him. Defensive. Confrontational. Hot-tempered. However, she refused to let him use her like a doormat.

  “I’ll find another job.” After Korea.

  With each passing minute, nevertheless, the angrier she became. Dressed, she searched the condo for him. Out of places to look, she went to his room.

  Hoping he hadn’t left and now prepared to make a complete fool of herself, she shouted through the door, “Who do you think you are, anyway? I don’t care how famous or self-important you are, you don’t come into my room without knocking.”

  His door opened only enough to let him through, and she leapt backward as he shut it. He wore black jeans that appeared painful in their tightness, and a black tank top with the hem torn off so it frayed. His brown eyes shot daggers at her.

  “To be frank with you, I heard you moan. I thought you were injured.”

  Mortified that he’d both heard and witnessed her masturbating, she fought the urge to lower her gaze. Her heart thumped heavily, and the tips of her fingers throbbed in time to its increasing tempo. “So you thought you could barge into my room unannounced. You may own this place, and I may work for you, but I’m entitled to privacy.”

  “There again, I was racing to your rescue. I didn’t realize you were…well…”

  Shit! She wanted the floor to open and swallow her.

  He jerked his head, flinging his long, nearly black hair out of his eyes. He hadn’t shaved, and the scruff went well beyond mere shadow to outright sexy starter beard. It brought her eyes to his bow-shaped, kiss-me-now lips.

  She ripped her gaze from his mouth. “I don’t think this is going to work out. All we do is argue.”

  His nostrils flared, and he sighed while inserting a long-fingered hand up under the unraveling edge of his shirt. “Classic. We’re meant to be going to Seoul. I really need an aide. You happen to work as my aide, as fate would have it.”

  She shook her head, her stomach sinking. “I’ll stay behind and get another job. One way or another, by the time you get back, I’ll be gone. I think it’s for the best.”

  He studied her a long moment, and when his hair slid down his forehead, he combed it out of his eyes with his hand. “I disagree. As much as I hate to admit it, Dan’s right. You’re here to do a job, not betray me.”

  “Betray you?” She ventured a step nearer. Was this why he’d been so unbearable? He thought she’d come to blackmail or swindle him in some way? “What do you mean?”

  He gave his head a nearly imperceptible shake that sent his bangs into his eyes. “I’m sure you’d fancy an explanation, but I’m not prepared to give one. Suffice it to say I’ll endeavor to treat you better.”

  Skeptical and wary, she put a hand on her hip. “Did one of your other assistants sell your secrets to the media or something?”

  “Do you mind me not saying? It’s personal.”

  There was that sadness she’d witnessed earlier. She wanted to soften, but he’d acted so extremely unlikable until now. Still, she had to fight the urge to reach up and brush his hair aside.

  He released a long breath. “At the break of day, your passport will arrive, we’ll drive to the airport, and by dinnertime tomorrow, we’ll be landing in Korea.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “You really want me to go that badly?
”

  “You’re not a git, which is a huge improvement over the aide before you. I like that you cooked for us this morning, and you have an overall air of competence. So, yes. I really want you to go that badly.”

  Despite his deadpan expression, she had to resist a smile with all her might. Compliments? From him? She never thought the day would come.

  “Fine,” she said and moved the hair from his eyes, amazed by its soft, thick texture. “I’ve got scissor skills. I could trim this for you.”

  * * *

  Eyeing a pair of lethal-looking stainless steel scissors in Kendel’s lovely white fingers, Burn stifled a shiver of dread. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing? I have a concert tomorrow. It may be hard to strike a confident note if I let my aide get her revenge by hacking my hair into a shambles.”

  Her full lips curved slightly into a reassuring smile that bordered on seductive. “I know what I’m doing. I’ve been trimming my brothers’ hair since I was fifteen. Besides, I’m not the vengeful type. You really do have trust issues.”

  “You’ve no idea.” He reluctantly sank onto a low stool in her bathroom and let her dampen his hair.

  The feel of her firm strokes across his scalp both relaxed and excited him – a sensation wholly new to him. “I have a stylist. He’s very talented.”

  “Unfortunately, you’re overdue to visit him. Can he take care of this mess today?” Her large blue eyes assessed and her fingers stilled.

  “Why do you say my stylist is male?”

  “Seriously? You said he’s very talented. I’m not a git, remember?” She chuckled. “Besides, I’ve never met a man who distrusted women as much as you.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t ask him to trim me today. He’d only be angry to have to turn me away.” He closed his eyes and savored her massage as her fingertips resumed their journey through his hair.

  “Exactly. And do you really want to face two overseas performances where your hair keeps getting in your eyes?”