Naughty or Nice?

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Naughty or Nice? Page 16

by Sherrilyn Kenyon


  “Don’t yell at me, Sam,” he said as he pulled back. “It wasn’t my fault. I was waiting for you when she grabbed me from behind. At first, I thought it was you. Then she swept around me and put a lip-lock on me so fast I didn’t know what to do. In case you haven’t noticed, women don’t usually do things like that to me. She caught me off guard.”

  “You looked like you were enjoying it to me.”

  “I was too stunned to move. And when she handed me the key, it took a full minute before it dawned on me what it was.”

  “A full minute?”

  “I know you don’t believe me, but if I wanted Tiffany, then why am I out here on a horse, freezing?”

  “I don’t know. Why are you here on a horse, freezing?”

  “Because I love you, and I wanted to come to your rescue.”

  Sam choked on a sob. “Really?”

  He tilted her chin up to look at him. “Don’t ever doubt me, Sam. You’re the only woman I’ve ever wanted to take care of.”

  Coming from him, that meant something.

  She smiled as he kicked the horse forward toward the setting sun.

  And in that moment, Sam knew she had the best Christmas present ever. She had her knight in shining leather.

  EPILOGUE

  CHRISTMAS DAY

  Adrian let out a tired sigh as he pulled up to his apartment, just after noon. He’d spent most of the morning at work, alone, doing his best not to call and disturb Sam. She was spending the day with her family, while his had fled. Heather had gone to Daytona, and his mother was on a cruise in Alaska with her latest boyfriend.

  But then, there was nothing unusual about that. He hadn’t had a family Christmas since he was fifteen.

  For the last eleven years, Christmas had meant nothing more than a heated TV dinner eaten in front of bad television shows.

  “I hate Christmas,” he muttered as he got out of his car, and went to his apartment.

  He opened his door. Then, he froze dead in his tracks.

  Someone had put a small Christmas tree in his living room and decorated it.

  Frowning, Adrian closed the door and took his coat off, then went to the tree where a medieval-looking note card was tied with a ribbon to a branch.

  He flipped it open.

  Milord, Knight in Shining Armor, methinks thou hast a present in thy chamber.

  He smiled at Sam’s writing. She must have stopped by while he’d been at work. How he wished she’d called him. He’d love to see her today.

  Oh, well, she’d be at work tomorrow.

  Holding the card to his heart, he went to see what she’d left for him. He opened the door to his bedroom and went stock-still as his jaw fell open.

  Sam was lying on his bed dressed in a teddy that made his mouth water, and she had a bow tied around her neck.

  “Where have you been?” she asked with a seductive smile as she closed the book she’d been reading and put it on his nightstand.

  Adrian couldn’t speak, since his tongue was hanging on the floor.

  Her smile widened as she left the bed and moved to stand in front of him. “Carpet got your tongue?” she asked.

  He smiled.

  Cupping her face in his hands, he stared in awe. “I thought you were going over to your mom’s.”

  “I am for dinner. But I wanted to surprise you.”

  Adrian pulled her to him and kissed her until he couldn’t stand it anymore. He wanted her in a way he had never wanted anything else.

  And that flimsy outfit that barely covered her and left nothing to his imagination, was making him way too hard for comfort.

  Growling, he pulled his clothes off in record time, then tossed her over his shoulder and deposited her gently on the bed.

  Sam laughed.

  Adrian ran his hand down the curve of her thigh, amazed at how much he loved her.

  Sam kissed Adrian’s bare shoulder as he reached into his nightstand for a condom.

  He turned to her then, but instead of handing the condom to her as he normally did, he kissed her.

  She felt something strange in his mouth.

  Pulling back, she frowned as he pulled a ring out from between his teeth and handed it to her.

  “I was going to give this to you tomorrow at dinner,” he said, looking a bit sheepish. “But since you’re here . . .”

  Completely stunned, Sam couldn’t breathe as she stared at the ring. It was a one-carat, heart-shaped diamond engagement ring in a medieval-style setting that made her heart pound.

  Tears welled in her eyes as she blinked in disbelief. “Are you sure about this?”

  He ran his hand down her arm. “You’re the only thing in my life I’ve ever been sure about,” he whispered before he took the ring back.

  He left the bed and went down on one knee beside it, then took her hand into his.

  Tears fell down her cheeks at the sight of Adrian naked on the floor.

  “Samantha Jane Parker, will you marry me?”

  She launched herself at him and knocked him flat against the floor. “Of course I will.”

  He laughed as she straddled his bare stomach.

  Adrian placed the ring on her left hand, then he kissed it. “I love you, Sam.”

  “I love you, Adrian,” she whispered, knowing in her heart that she had finally found her one, true knight in shining armor. And she was never, ever going to let him go.

  Naughty Under

  the Mistletoe

  CARLY PHILLIPS

  To Mom and Dad

  who made me believe I could do anything.

  To Phil

  who loves and supports me through everything. And

  to Jackie and Jennifer

  who make it all worthwhile.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Antonia Larson fastened the white fur anklet adorned by three silver bells and a green velvet bow, closing the accessory around her leg with a single snap. From the radio on the edge of her desk, a traditional Christmas carol ended and the Bruce Springsteen version of “Santa Claus Is Coming to Town” now reverberated through her small office. Pulling her hat over her head and securing it with bobby pins, she hummed her own off-key rendition of her favorite Christmas tune. She twirled once, pleased with the jingling accompaniment to the gruff voice of The Boss.

  If Santa was coming to town, he wasn’t going to find Toni being a good girl. Not this year. Not this night. Tonight she was a woman on a mission. A mission to seduce the man she’d been attracted to for too long. She planned to act on what was a physical attraction and indulge in a safe interlude she could easily walk away from when their time together was through. Something Stephan, the firm’s confirmed self-proclaimed bachelor, would appreciate and understand.

  Because they’d been working closely as colleagues, acting on her desire had been impossible until now—but today had been her last day of work before the long holiday vacation. When she returned after the New Year, she’d be in the new suburban offices of Corbin and Sons. Work and office protocol no longer stood between them. Nothing did except her courage and the nice-girl role she’d played all her life. A role she could afford to let go of, at least this once.

  After yet another night of tossing and turning for hours in her lonely double bed, she’d pulled out the December issue of the women’s magazine she’d subscribed to on a whim. What other reason could there be since she had no time in her busy lawyer’s life to read tips on how to attract men and what turned them on?

  But as she’d read the steamy article on naughty versus nice, Toni realized she’d spent the better part of her life as a nice girl, following the rules to get ahead and working overtime to make a good impression. Her two thousand–plus billables over the last few years had put her in a prime position for a promotion. The ailing Mr. Corbin had been thrilled when he’d named her the senior associate to work with the as-of-yet unnamed partner who’d run the new office. She’d never have come this far without performing to perfection. Being naughty had had no pla
ce on the ladder to success. Neither had coming on to a man she worked alongside.

  But having earned her position, she felt free to act on other, impulsive desires. Then with the onset of the new year, Toni would put Stephan behind her and step back into the stable, secure, independent life she’d created for herself.

  If the article were to be trusted, the clichéd adage was true and nice girls finished last. So Toni would just have to be bad. She smoothed her skirt and straightened her hat, giving one last jingle of her bells for good luck. In matters of the hormones and the heart Toni intended to come in first.

  No matter how naughty she had to be to accomplish her goal, Toni intended to get her man.

  They called this a party? Maxwell Corbin glanced at the dark suits milling about the large conference room. Muffled laughs, discreet corner discussions, and a handshake every now and then to clinch a deal. Not an ounce of fun in sight, he thought and immediately remembered why he’d traded in his SoHo apartment and his family’s downtown New York City law firm for a place in the suburbs and his PI office on the Hudson River. An office he’d return to. No matter how happy it would make his father if Max decided to return to the fold, he had to live his own life, his own way. Three years at the family firm had taught him practicing law wasn’t it.

  As he made for the eggnog across the room, his sneakered foot crushed a stray pretzel, marring the otherwise pristine carpet. Beside him, someone made a toast to an upcoming merger, increased income, and the guaranteed all-nighters to come. Max shook his head in disgust. The only thing worth staying up all night for was sex—something he hadn’t had in too damn long, mostly because no woman had interested him enough. But lately he’d begun to wonder what being discriminating and picky had gotten him besides a cold bed at night.

  He lifted the ladle to pour himself a drink when the faint ringing of bells caught his attention. He turned toward the sound and the expensively decorated Christmas tree, a pine, lavishly trimmed with white and gold, with dozens of boxes beneath the branches to increase holiday spirit. He stepped to the left so he could see around the tree and caught sight of a dainty elf kneeling over a bulging bag of toys. As she reached inside the large bag, the hem on her miniskirt hiked up higher, revealing black lace beneath white fur trim.

  Max swallowed hard. So much for disinterest, he thought wryly. A longer glance as she dug through her huge bag and he discovered the lace ended at mid-thigh. He wondered what she wore beneath that green suit, if the hands-on exploration would be as satisfying as his imagination.

  He tried to swallow but his mouth had gone dry. If he had to spend time in the hallowed halls of Corbin and Sons—make that Corbin and Compliant Son, he thought, thinking of his twin—then maybe the pixie in the corner would make his time here worthwhile. He dodged his way around the business suits and headed for the tinsel-laden elf.

  On his way, he realized that not only was she the sole focus of his attention, but he was the center of hers. She’d straightened from her chore and looked at him dead-on, heat and something more in her smoky gaze. Drink forgotten, he walked the rest of the way to where she stood. Despite the drone of preoccupied, chattering attorneys, Max felt as if he were approaching her in silken silence.

  As he closed in, he raised his gaze from the white fur anklet to her belted, trim waist to her green-eyed stare. Sea-green scrutiny made more vibrant by the interested flush in her cheeks. After promising his father he’d show up at this gig, he’d mentally called the day a bust, but when she pulled him behind the tree, rose onto her booted tiptoes, and touched her mouth to his, he reassessed his opinion.

  He’d been kissed before—but he’d never been kissed. Not with such intensity and single-minded purpose. She tasted sweet and smelled sensual and fragrant, making both his mind and his body come alive. Her hands gripped his shoulders in a death-lock as her champagne-flavored tongue darted past his willing lips.

  She had a potent effect, yet despite it all her touch was endearingly hesitant, turning him on while arousing a fierce protectiveness within him at the same time. He gripped her waist to anchor himself, something she obviously took as a sign of acceptance because a soft but satisfied sigh escaped and he caught the erotic sound with his mouth, deep in his throat. Though he hadn’t a clue what he’d done to become the lucky recipient of her attention, he wasn’t about to question good fortune. He’d rather make more of his own.

  He began an arousing exploration, mating his tongue with hers in a prelude she couldn’t misinterpret or mistake. And obviously she didn’t. Her head tipped backward and she welcomed the onslaught of his roving tongue and hands. His fingers locked onto her petite waist and he pulled her forward, her breasts flush with his chest, her hips brushing his.

  Such close contact with his elf had him aching for more and he sucked in a startled breath, inhaling deeply. The scent of pine assaulted his senses and reminded him of their surroundings and the possibility that despite the barrier of the Christmas tree, they might have an audience of attorneys taking copious notes. With regret he raised his head and took a safe step back from temptation. Emerald eyes glazed with desire stared back, an engaging smile on her well-kissed lips.

  “Mistletoe,” she said in a husky voice, pointing upward.

  He glanced at the bare ceiling. So she had passion as well as a desperate need for an excuse. A grin tipped the edges of his mouth as he wondered what other surprises this mystery lady had in store. “Whatever you say.”

  She touched her lips with shaking fingertips. “I say you’re not him. You’re nothing like Stephan.”

  Kind of her to point out something he’d been told hundreds of times before. But she’d spoken low, more to herself than to him, and not with the well-aimed need to hurt, the way the information had been used against him in the past.

  Her gaze darted from his worn basketball sneakers, up the length of his dark denim jeans, and focused on his face. “In the dim lighting and from a distance you kind of looked like him.” He saw as well as heard her searching for answers. “The same dark hair and piercing blue eyes, though yours are somewhat warmer.” A glimmer of passion infused her voice. “Similar dimple but yours is deeper.” She reached out with the same hesitant determination he’d sensed behind the kiss.

  Her touch burned him straight to his soul.

  “And when he works weekends, he . . . dresses . . . like . . . you.” She jerked her hand away from the same fire consuming him.

  Max was surprised to learn Stephan ever veered away from conservative suits and ties. Maybe he and his twin had come from the same egg after all. Maybe they had more in common than either of them let on. And maybe they could be friends as well as brothers. The thought arose, not for the first time in ages, but it was the first time he considered acting on the impulse.

  He had his elf to thank for revealing the surprising similarities and possibilities. His elf. Funny how proprietary he’d become in such a short span of time. But it wouldn’t be funny if she had any kind of relationship with his twin, and based on that hell of a kiss, the odds tipped against Max.

  “Since it’s not the weekend, I should have known,” she murmured. Scrutiny complete, she settled her stare on his New York Rangers jersey, an obvious attempt to avoid his gaze. Then she folded her arms across her lush chest, chewing on her bottom lip as the enormity of her mistake obviously set in.

  He remembered the feel of those curves pressed intimately against him, recalled the sweetness of her mouth, and he struggled not to groan aloud. “Something against the Rangers?” he asked, seeking the more mundane.

  She shook her head, her button nose crinkling in answer. “I don’t have time for basketball.”

  “Hockey.”

  “Whatever. But baseball’s another story. How ’bout those Mets?” A twinkle sparkled in her glorious eyes.

  Apparently she’d been giving him a hard time and was probably as big a sports fanatic as he, something he’d never expected to find in a woman.

  “Hard to b
elieve a Corbin would wear a jersey to an office party, though.” Her brows rose in surprise.

  On any other woman, the gesture would remind him of his judgmental federal court judge mother. But on her, the otherwise critical display indicated curiosity and interest, not disdain. “You’ve got that right. But I’m not a typical Corbin.” He felt the welcome tug of a smile.

  She inclined her head, her silky black hair brushing her shoulders much the way he’d like it caressing his skin. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

  Once again, her trembling fingers touched her mouth, this time tracing the outline of her reddened lips before she caught herself and stepped around the tree, reaching for the first gift-wrapped package she could find. He allowed her escape for the moment, watching the sexy sway of her hips in retreat. And in that instant, her words immediately after that mind-blowing kiss came back to him. You’re not him. You’re nothing like Stephan.

  She’d kissed him and known instantly. And she wasn’t all that upset and she definitely wasn’t unaffected. The thought pleased him. Though Max could never compete with his twin as a Corbin son, he’d obviously made headway with . . . his brother’s woman? His gut clenched at the thought.

  “Hello, Max.” Stephan walked up beside him.

  “Hey, little brother.” Catching the scowl on his twin’s face, Max grinned, feeling on safe, sibling-sparring ground. “ ‘Little brother’ is a figure of speech. You know that. But you also know I got sprung first.”

  “Three minutes isn’t enough to hold it over me our entire lives,” Stephan said with characteristic grumbling. “But I’m glad you made it.” He surprised Max by slapping him on the back. Obviously his brother wasn’t threatened by his father’s summons of his wayward, prodigal son. Another reason for Max to suddenly hold out hope he’d leave this party with more than he’d walked in with.

  At the very least, a renewed connection to his twin and at best a new woman in his life? Possible, Max thought, unless—he glanced at his brother. “Who’s the elf?”

 

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