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A Countess for Christmas

Page 16

by Christy McKellen


  And now, before she made a further fool of herself, she needed to make a speedy exit. “I’ll just let you deal with that.” She turned to retrace her footsteps back to the elevator when she remembered her manners. She glanced over her shoulder. “Good night.”

  “Wait.”

  With her back to him, she inwardly groaned. Her gaze moved to the elevator at the end of the hallway. Her escape was so close and yet so far away. Suppressing a resigned sigh, she turned.

  “Come with me.” Without waiting for her response, he strode into his office.

  What in the world did he want with her? Her black peep-toe platform pumps echoed as she crossed the marble floor. She couldn’t tell which was louder, the click-click of her heels or the thump-thump of her heart. Most people didn’t make her nervous, but Mr. Lockwood was the exception.

  When Holly entered the spacious office, she had to admit she was awed. While he read over the document, she took in her surroundings. Behind Mr. Lockwood’s desk stood a wall of windows. Being so high up, it provided the most amazing view of Manhattan. She longed to rush over and stare out at the bustling city, but she didn’t dare.

  The sound of a desk drawer opening distracted her. Mr. Lockwood appeared to be searching for something. While he was preoccupied, she continued her visual tour of his office. It reminded her of a museum with its impressive sculptures as well as a baseball collection ensconced in glass cases. But the bookcases spanning an entire wall were what drew her in.

  She struggled not to gape at the large collection of books. He liked to read. They had that in common. She wanted to slip across the room and examine the titles, but when she glanced over at Mr. Lockwood, he pointed to one of the two chairs in front of his desk. Without a word, she complied.

  “What do you think of the office?”

  “It’s very nice.” She indicated the floor-to-ceiling bookcases. “Have you read them all?”

  “I have. And what about you? Do you like to read?”

  “Oh, yes.” She laced her fingers together to keep from fidgeting with the hem of her skirt. “I read every chance I get.”

  “Is that why you’re not downstairs at the company’s fiftieth anniversary celebration? Would you prefer to be at home reading?”

  Was this some sort of test? She hesitated. Was there a right and a wrong answer? Her clasped hands tightened as his gaze probed her. Could he tell how nervous his presence made her?

  “I missed the party because I needed to finish the contract.” She indicated the document on his desk. “I was just going to leave it for you before I headed home.” She wasn’t the only one not attending the party. What was his excuse for skipping his own celebration? “I figured you’d be at the party.”

  “I already made a brief appearance. No one will let their guard down around the boss so I made a quick exit, letting everyone get back to having a good time.”

  She could totally understand people being nervous around him. He was an intense man, who insisted on only the best from his employees. “That can’t be much fun for you.”

  He shrugged. “I’m fine with it.”

  She looked at him in a new light, realizing for the first time that the privilege of working up here in this ivory tower was also a sentence of isolation. “It doesn’t seem right that you’re working instead of celebrating your family’s accomplishments.”

  He shook his head. “This is the way it must be.”

  Well, now, that was an odd comment. It was on the tip of her tongue to question him about it, but she thought better of it. She had a feeling his pleasantness had its limitations.

  Quietness settled over the room as Mr. Lockwood scanned the twenty-one-page document. Holly struggled to sit still—waiting and wondering why he wanted her to remain there. Her index finger repeatedly smoothed over the chipped nail polish on her thumb.

  There was something about this man that turned her into a mass of jittery nerves. But what? It wasn’t his billions or his power. It was something more intrinsic, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

  “This exhibit isn’t right.” He gestured to a page in the contract. “Do you have your source material?”

  “Not on me. But I double-checked everything.” In actuality, she’d quadruple-checked the figures, but she didn’t want to sound like she’d been trying too hard to impress him.

  His brows drew together into a formidable line. “You had to have made a mistake. This doesn’t make sense.”

  “Prove it.” The words slipped past her lips before she could stop them.

  Mr. Lockwood’s eyes widened as though unaccustomed to being challenged. She continued to hold his gaze. She wasn’t going to back down—not when the one thing she greatly valued was in question—her reputation.

  “These exhibits are skewed. I’m positive of it.” His eyes darkened. “I’ll log in to the system and then you can show me where you pulled your numbers.”

  For the next hour they worked side by side, going over the figures in the exhibits. In the end the contract was wrong, but to Holly’s relief, it hadn’t been her fault. The numbers on one of the source files had been transposed. After printing a revised copy, Finn signed it. Holly used his personal assistant’s scanner to email the contract to the designated party.

  “Thanks for the assistance.” Finn slipped the hard copy back into the envelope. “Sorry to take up so much of your evening and for causing you to miss dinner.” He glanced at his Rolex. “We’ll have to remedy that.”

  “That’s okay. It’s not a big deal.”

  “I insist on dinner.” He stood and then moved around the desk. “You did me a big favor tonight by helping with the contract.” His gaze dipped to her lips before quickly returning to her face. The corners of his mouth lifted into a sexy smile. “And I’d like to show you how thankful I am for the help with meeting that deadline.”

  Oh, he definitely had more than dinner on his mind. The thought sent a new wave of nervous tremors through her stomach. She glanced away. Her initial inclination was to turn him down. Her experience with men was less than impressive. But did that mean she had to live in solitude?

  What was wrong with a little company? A little laughter and perhaps flirting? And maybe a little more. Her gaze met his once more. It’d all be fine as long as neither of them had any expectations. After all, it wasn’t like it would ever happen again.

  “Dinner sounds good.”

  “Great.” He made a brief phone call and then turned to her. “It’s all arranged. I’ll just drop this envelope on Clara’s desk and then we’ll be off.”

  A little voice inside Holly said to be cautious. Finn Lockwood wasn’t just any man and she knew nothing of his world. But another part of her was drawn to him like a moth to a flame—and boy, was he hot.

  The sizzling tension smoldered between them as they quietly rode down in the elevator. When they stepped into the parking garage beneath the building there was a sleek black town car waiting for them. A driver immediately alighted and opened the door for them.

  Holly climbed in first, followed by Finn. When he joined her, his muscular leg brushed against hers. Her stomach shivered with excitement. When their hands came to rest side by side on the leather seat, neither pulled away. It felt as though the interior of the car was statically charged. Every nerve ending tingled with anticipation.

  As the car eased into the Friday evening traffic, she glanced over at Finn. She was surprised to find him staring back at her. Her heart thump-thumped, loud and fast.

  “Where to, sir?” the driver asked.

  “The penthouse.” Finn’s darkened gaze returned to Holly. “I thought we would dine in. Unless, of course, you have something else in mind.”

  She had something on her mind, but it wasn’t food. Perhaps she had been spending too much time working these days because there
had to be a reasonable explanation for her lack of common sense. Because all she could think about was how much she longed to press her lips to his.

  Copyright © 2016 by Jennifer F. Stroka

  ISBN-13: 9781488003257

  A Countess for Christmas

  Copyright © 2016 by Harlequin Books S.A.

  Special thanks and acknowledgment are given to Christy McKellen for her contribution to the Maids Under the Mistletoe series.

  All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

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