Alphas for the Holidays

by Mandy M. Roth

  Alex Nichols yanked the glasses off his face and rubbed the bridge of his nose where they pinched just enough to be annoying.

  Another couple days and he’d be rid of them for good. He couldn’t wait for the whole thing to be over. To get out of the cramped apartment, change out of the ridiculous clothes and, if there really was a God, to get laid.

  And definitely not in that order.

  After four months without sex, he was starting to lose his mind, and if the old wives’ tale held true, his vision wouldn’t be far behind. His hand just wasn’t going to cut it for much longer.

  He needed a woman and he needed one bad.

  Gooseflesh raised on his arms as the air went suddenly cold.

  It was freezing outside, but he’d cranked the the thermostat high to compensate. A broken heater would have him at the end of his rope for real.

  He stood to investigate but before he’d made it halfway across the room to the thermostat, a loud crash and a muffled yelp sounded from the balcony.

  His heart bucked as a rush of adrenaline coursed through him. Sliding the glasses up his nose, he reached a hand behind his back, resting his palm lightly on the Glock nestled there. He considered drawing the weapon but dismissed the idea.

  Foolhardy maybe, but he’d worked too hard for too long establishing his cover and he wasn’t about to risk blowing it at the eleventh hour by showing his hand if he didn’t have to.

  Alex got to the French doors just in time to see a slight woman with a riot of red curls tangled around her face hauling herself up, using a snow-covered plastic ficus as an anchor.

  He threw the door open, wincing at the icy blast of air, and glared at the intruder, who’d finally righted herself. “What the hell are you doing?” he snarled.

  The redhead started in surprise, teetering. Panic flashed across her face as she pitched forward. He steeled himself but her momentum was too great and she slammed into him, knocking him off his feet.

  Instinctively, he wrapped his arms around her as they crashed to the floor. His lungs emptied with a whoosh as her full weight barreled into his solar plexus.

  Shit.

  “Crap,” the woman atop him muttered. She struggled to free herself from his grasp, but he wasn’t quite ready to let her go. If she did have bad intentions and possibly a weapon, he would be all but helpless until he got his breath back.

  The darker part of him acknowledged that, bad intentions or no, it had been way too long since he’d had a woman wriggling on top of him. Her warm, soft curves molded against him in all the right places and he closed his eyes as he tried to hold her still.

  The second he was able, he sucked in a deep breath and was assailed by the scent of warm woman and buttery brown sugar. Instantly his cock stiffened.

  Down, boy.

  Rolling to the side, he spilled her off him and then jumped to his feet.

  “Who are you and what were you doing on my balcony?” he growled. He stared down at her, more confused by the second. “And why in God’s name do you have that thin trench coat on? It’s about to blizzard again.”

  She struggled onto all fours and then to her knees, peering up at him. A thatch of rust-colored curls had flopped forward, covering one side of her face and she blew them away with an exasperated huff. Her cheeks were flushed a pretty pink and she gnawed at her bottom lip.

  Not exactly the hallmarks of a serial killer or potential burglar, at least not from his experience. Some of the tension knotting his muscles eased as his body got the signal that the “code red” had been downgraded to a code “what the fuck is going on here?”

  The answer to that question hit him even as it formed in his mind—Saunders and Leeland. Those two were always looking for their next practical joke and apparently he was the mark this time.

  He’d just been complaining to Saunders the other day about the job killing his sex life and now out of the blue, a cute redhead in a trench coat falls into his lap.

  Literally.

  Talk about ammunition, he’d practically laid himself out on a silver platter.

  What didn’t sit right, though, was that his employees had engaged him at all while he was in the field, even by proxy. He was under deep cover and it was serious business. The case was coming to a close but he wouldn’t feel comfortable breaking character until the perps were picked up and all the evidence he’d collected was turned in to the authorities.

  Dammit, he’d handpicked those two jackasses when he’d started his security company and it burned him up that they didn’t know better. They’d always been a little immature, but they weren’t usually careless. First thing on tomorrow’s “to do” list was to make sure nothing like this ever happened again.

  Alex turned his attention back to the woman at his feet. He contemplated letting her off the hook but something about the way she looked—all flustered and on her knees in front of him, no less—made him want to see how things played out. This might turn out to be the most entertainment he’d had in months.

  The woman on the ground pushed herself to her feet. “The coat came in the bag, if you must know. And I’m here because this is my neighborhood and you’ve been yearning for help.”

  He scowled at her, incredulous. What the hell was she babbling about?

  “Are you drunk or something?”

  “No, it just takes me a while to get used to these dag-burned heels. You’d think three-inch ones would do, right? But nooo.” She wrinkled her pert nose in disgust and shifted her gaze to the couch. Hunching her shoulders, she inched toward it. When she reached it, she heaved a sigh of relief, holding onto the back for support.

  “There we go. I’ve got my legs under me now. Why don’t we have a seat and I’ll explain everything?” she asked, shooting him a wobbly smile.

  There was a fine edge of hysteria to her voice and he felt a weird stab of sympathy. Either she was a great actress and this was part of the joke or she was brand new at this job. On top of her wholesome looks, she was just so…awkward. He hadn’t spent time with many strippers in his thirty-four years, just at the occasional bachelor party, but he was pretty sure he’d never seen one like her before.

  Sharp, bottle-green eyes regarded him as she waited for him to answer.

  He closed the balcony doors and moved to sit on the ottoman across from her as she shimmied around the armrest and plopped down onto the sofa.

  She slipped a hand into the deep pocket of her coat and he tensed again, hand on Glock, until she extracted a handful of note cards and a sheaf of paper.

  Clearing her throat, she began reading from the cards. “Good evening, Mr. Nelson. My name is Holly Tucket and I am your Naughty Godmother.” She paused, looked up from her notes and made a grand, sweeping gesture with one arm before consulting the cards again.

  Her face was so solemn he had to swallow the guffaw that threatened to escape.

  “When you broadcasted your need of my services into the ether, I heard the call and I’m here to help. Trouble with women? Not a problem. When I’m done with you, you’ll be fighting them off.”

  She gave him an encouraging, albeit rather patronizing, smile before continuing.

  “I bet you’re wondering how this all works. Well, let me tell you. I have until Christmas Eve day to turn you, Nerdy Mr. Nice Guy, into a bad boy babe magnet. All you have to do is follow my instructions to the letter and promise not to tell a single soul about me. The contract outlines all the details.” She leaned forward and patted his shoulder gently. “I know this is a bit of a shock, so take a few minutes to read it over and get your head together. Then we can have a little Q and A session.”

  Alex bristled at her assessment of him until he reached up and fiddled with his glasses and then looked down at his clothes.

  For a few minutes there, he’d forgotten what he must look like to her. And he’d also fallen out of character, which wasn’t cool at all. Whatever kind of joke this was, he couldn’t let it distract him when he was so close to the end of things.
He had a job to complete and he was going to do it by the book.

  What would nerdy Alex Nelson do in this situation? he asked himself.

  Taking the packet she handed him, he scanned it, shaking his head in admiration. The guys had gone all out. It looked and read like a real contract, with all the legal mumbo-jumbo and even sported a gold-leaf seal depicting the silhouette of a curvy woman with a wand.

  Nice touch.

  As he skimmed, he was pleased to note that the name under the signature line read “Alex Nelson”. At least the idiots hadn’t given out his real last name.

  Grabbing a pen off the coffee table, he signed with a flourish.

  “There you go. And thanks, you showed up just in time. I need all the help I can get. Where do we start?” He rubbed his hands together and pasted an eager, needy smile on his face.

  She hesitated, her throat working as she swallowed audibly. A twinge of guilt niggled at him. Maybe he should just let her know he was onto her and end the charade.

  Then again, there was no sense making the girl feel bad on her first day. And damn him, but he really wanted to see what was under that trench coat.

  “So you believe me? Just like that?” she asked, cocking her head to the side quizzically. “Don’t need any proof or anything?”

  “Nope. It all makes perfect sense.”

  “Oh. Okay then.”

  She looked so crestfallen, he found himself wanting to make her feel better. “But now that you mention it, maybe some proof would be good.”

  Ms. Holly Tucket brightened at that and nodded. “No problemo.”

  She picked up the pile of notecards she’d sat on the table in front of her and leafed through them, plucking one out of the bunch.

  Her face scrunched in concentration as she twirled a finger toward the floor lamp in the corner of the room and shouted, “Luz versilus!”

  A strange hiss and a loud pop echoed through the small space before the room went dark.

  “Huh,” she mumbled. “That wasn’t supposed to happen. That was a new one for me, lemme try one of my usual—”

  “No, no, that’s okay,” he assured her, and went into the adjoining dining room and turned on the light.

  Clearly whatever Leeland and Saunders had done to rig the lamp hadn’t worked exactly as intended. If he let her continue this charade she was liable to burn the place down. No wonder she’d been so bummed out when he didn’t ask to see some magic. A lot of work must have gone into that setup.

  “Okay, if you’re sure.”

  “I’m sure.”

  She thumbed through the cards again and pulled another from the pile. “Next, I’m supposed to…” She trailed off, the color draining from her cheeks.

  “What’s the matter?”

  “Nothing. Nothing at all.” Her tone was brisk and she rallied before his eyes, shooting him a winning smile. She stood, again steadying herself on the armrest, and dropped the cards onto the table.

  With a trembling hand, she tugged one end of the belt that held her coat closed. The sides fell open an inch, then two.

  She paused and Alex flicked a glance to her face, wondering if maybe she’d spoken but he hadn’t heard over the rush of blood pounding in his ears.

  Her green eyes held him transfixed as she curled her fingers around the fabric and peeled the trench away, letting it fall to the floor. The air in his lungs seemed thin and insubstantial as he tried not to look down, tried to hold her gaze. But the lure was too strong.

  The blood that had pulsed in his head only seconds before drained south and filled his cock to bursting as he took in her lithe form.

  She was small but perfectly proportioned. Round, firm breasts strained against the cups of a white lace bra, one deep breath away from spilling over. The creamy expanse of taut stomach led to a triangle of fabric so small, so sheer, it left no doubt she was a natural redhead. One white garter hugged a bare thigh, her shapely calves and trim ankles set off by one pop of color.

  Red stilettos.

  Jesus.

  As Alex stared dry-mouthed at the woman wobbling in her high heels before him, his cock throbbed, urging him to taste. To take. He struggled mightily to tear his gaze away to no avail.

  Holly Tucket was a study in contrasts. Her face adorable, her body pure sin, she smelled like a fucking pecan pie and he just had to sit there acting like he wouldn’t know what to do with her if she sat on his face.

  Saunders and Leeland were going to pay for this.

  Chapter 3

  As she stood exposed, conflicting emotions vied for Holly’s attention. In the end, embarrassment was handily defeated by the jolt of desire arcing through her.

  Alex’s tense jaw worked as his hungry gaze raked her from head to toe, sending a tingle down her spine and a rush of heat between her thighs.

  What was that about? When they’d observed him from the scrying bowl he’d looked totally innocuous. Perfectly harmless and spectacularly boring…timid even, which was exactly why she’d chosen him.

  Now standing before him in the flesh, she wasn’t so sure. Yes, he still had on the dated, ill-fitting glasses and the hideous geometric-pattern sweater-vest. But something wasn’t right. Something in the eyes seemed out of place with the rest of the package.

  Something raw and overtly sexual.

  And he’d been so confident, so commanding when he’d found her on the balcony.

  She stared at him hard, trying to put the pieces together when his gaze shifted to meet hers. He froze for a moment and then Dr. Jekyll seemed to take the reins back from Mr. Hyde. The intense gleam in his dark eyes faded and the harmless little lamb she’d seen when she’d been watching from afar returned.

  “Um, wow. You’re really pretty.” He fidgeted in his seat.

  The compliment warmed her from the inside out, quieting some of the butterflies fluttering in her belly. “Thanks. I’m glad you think so. That will make the rest of this go much easier.”

  His nostrils flared as the tension returned to his face for an instant then retreated.

  “The rest of what?” he asked in a husky voice.

  She narrowed her eyes at him, her Spidey senses tingling again. “You are Alex Nelson, right? You don’t have a twin or anything, do you?”

  “That’s me. And I’m an only child. So you were saying something about the rest of this…”

  Holly bent to retrieve her note cards and shuffled them until she found the two she needed.

  In order for him to land a sexy, savvy lady on his own once you’re gone, your charge needs to be comfortable around women of that caliber. Embody that woman so he is prepared when the time comes to strike out on his own.

  Check. Well, half a check anyway. She may have been a little awkward at first. And her entrance had been atrocious, but she would be extra-super-duper savvy from here on out.

  She flipped to the next card.

  In order for him to allow you into his world and accept your advice, you need to be physically attractive to him. In order for him to get the type of woman he wants, he needs to be equally attractive. Plan a look for him that will make him as appealing as possible.

  She cocked her head and checked him out again.

  Like all NGM charges, he had potential. The ones that didn’t went to another department, an elite group of fairies called Miracle Workers. They had a lot more time and a lot more magic than the average godmother, and they weren’t afraid to use it to do a major overhaul on a charge.

  This one had good bones, a full head of hair and nice teeth. Despite his ill-fitting clothes, after being sprawled on top of him earlier, she knew he had a fit body under there somewhere.

  Looks-wise, after a little spit and polish, he’d do. She’d start off by getting him to try the clothes she’d brought, maybe lose the glasses and put some product in his hair. With a couple of minor changes and those flashes of charisma, he could be a real winner.

  “Be right back.”

  She braved the stilettos and slowly mad
e her way to the balcony. After locating the bag that had been flung there when she’d stumbled, she pawed through it until she found what she was looking for.

  When she got back to the living room, she was armed with hair goo, a pair of modern faded jeans, an athletic-cut, white button-down shirt and a fitted t-shirt to go underneath. A plain brown belt would complete the look.

  Simple, casual, great for an after work drink date.

  “Okay, go try this stuff on.”

  She shoved the pile of clothes at Alex and ushered him away. As she waited, she tried to tamp down the nervous excitement coursing through her.

  He was going to be so happy when he saw how different a change of clothes made him look and feel. She bet his confidence would increase tenfold just from that one little tweak.

  A couple minutes passed before Alex reappeared with a sheepish smile on his face and Holly bit back a gasp.

  “How does it look?”

  Frigging awesomely hot. “Not bad.”

  The t-shirt clung to his toned chest and a six-pack that wouldn’t quit. The jeans were slung low on his lean hips and hugged his manly bits like barnacles on a boat.

  A really big, thick boat.

  Like a yacht, maybe.

  A hot flash hit her and she bit her lip, dragging her gaze away. She made the rest of the journey down and saw he was barefoot, which felt oddly intimate.

  He cleared his throat and her gaze shot up to meet his, her already overheated face going molten.

  “Looking good. Really good.”

  “Thanks. I like it too.”

  “Okay, so how about we put some product in your hair, huh?”

  She didn’t wait for an answer and went about scooping some of the paste in her hands and rubbing them together.

  “Sit down.”

  He did so without question and she ran her fingers through his hair. It was really nice, thick and silky, with just a hint of curl. She mussed it this way and that, then stepped back.

  Well hot darn, she’d picked herself a doozy. He was a stone-cold fox. As far as charges were concerned, she was batting a thousand. They couldn’t all be this easy, could they?