Total pages in book: 21
Estimated words: 18896 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 94(@200wpm)___ 76(@250wpm)___ 63(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 18896 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 94(@200wpm)___ 76(@250wpm)___ 63(@300wpm)
That kiss. Brandy hugged her arms around her chest, as if she could hold tight to the feelings he inspired. As always, she forced herself to take an honest look at herself, her actions, and the situation. She couldn’t deny the truth. At a crossroads, about to embark on a new life away from the city, she couldn’t afford more than a one-night stand. Didn’t want one, either. She’d thought Stephan Corbin was the perfect man on whom to test her feminine wiles, but she’d been wrong. Whatever attraction she’d felt for Stephan paled in comparison to what she’d experienced under the mistletoe with his twin. And damn she wanted an instant replay.
But with the onslaught of children from the shelter, she had no choice but to wait. In the meantime, she continued the cat-and-mouse game of eye contact he’d begun earlier. Her heart beat frantically in her chest and anticipation flowed through her veins.
“Only two more kids, Brandy,” Annie, a receptionist in the office, whispered in her ear.
“I don’t know whether to say thank goodness because I’m beat or thank goodness because even one child here is one too many.” She ought to know, having spent more than one night without presents as a child.
“How about thank goodness so you can go play get-to-know-you with the Corbin twin?”
Brandy felt the heat rise to her cheeks. Had Annie seen that all-consuming kiss behind the tree?
“He hasn’t taken his eyes off you since you sat down in this chair.”
Brandy shifted in her seat to accommodate the next little girl. “Did you know Stephan had a brother?” she asked Annie.
“No, but I wish I had, at least before you nailed him for yourself. I’ve got to run. I have a date. Have fun tonight,” she whispered on a laugh and walked away before Brandy could respond.
The last two children and their requests for Santa went quickly. Brandy kept her mental list of extra things to send over to the shelter from Santa and soon the kids, their chaperones, and the gifts were bundled up and on their way.
She started to rise, knowing she still had an office to pack before the night was through.
“Not so fast.”
She recognized the seductive voice that rumbled from behind.
She curled her hands around the arm of the office chair she’d appropriated, steadying herself with a firm grip, as she turned to him. “Something I can do for you?”
“Since you have a special relationship with the big man in the red suit, I was hoping you could relay a wish.” His strong fingertips brushed her hair back from her face and around her ear, strumming across her skin with perfect precision.
Her stomach fluttered with longing and she forced an easy laugh. “Aren’t you too old to believe in Santa?”
“Aren’t you too young not to?”
“I’m dressed like one of his elves. Doesn’t that tell you something about who and what I believe in?” And right now she believed in this man—and anything he said or did.
She tipped her head to the side and found herself sharing breathing space, close enough to kiss him if she desired. And she did, badly. She’d never experienced anything as strong as her immediate attraction to this stranger.
“It tells me some. But I know too little about you and I intend to change that.” He walked around and eased himself onto the arm of her chair, not on her lap but close enough to increase her growing awareness.
His hip brushed her arm and her body heat shot up another ten degrees. She glanced around at the thinning group of people. Though she and her companion didn’t seem to be garnering added attention, Brandy was still aware of this being her place of business.
Even if she had temporarily forgotten once she’d gotten him behind the tree, they were in full view of the masses now. “I’m not Santa Claus so there’s no lap-sitting involved,” she warned him.
He bent closer. “I’ll accept those barriers… for now.”
She inhaled a shaky breath. His masculine scent, a heady mix of warm spice and pure man tempted her to throw caution aside. Before she could lose common sense, she grasped onto the one thread of the conversation she could remember. “So, what can I tell Santa you desire… I mean want. What can I tell Santa you want?”
She’d caught her phrasing, an obvious extension of her thoughts and needs, and attempted a too-late retraction. But the word “desire,” once spoken, hovered in the air, teasing, arousing, and building upon the electricity arcing between them.
“I know what you meant.” He laughed and the deep sound both eased and aroused her in ways she didn’t understand. “I also know what you want and it’s the same thing I do.”
A tremor shook her hard. “And what would that be?”
“To finish what we started under the so-called mistletoe.” His gaze latched onto something over his shoulder and his roguish grin turned into a frown.