Jingle This!

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Jingle This! Page 12

by Stephanie Rowe


  She threw the invite on the table. “I’m the one who’s been busting my butt for them, and they invite you? They should honor the laborers. The little people.”

  “Well, don’t glare at me like that. I invited you, didn’t I?” Good thing too. He’d hate to have been her victim when she found out later that she’d been bypassed both by Swift and her own boss. “So, are you coming or what?”

  “Yes, I’ll go. They need to meet the goddess who’s been busting her ass for them. Do you realize how many Christmas parties I’ve missed so I could work on their stories?” She stood up. “Let’s go.”

  “After you finish that story.”

  “Yeah, I know. Give me ten minutes.”

  “Don’t rush it,” he shouted after her disappearing figure.

  Her only response was the thudding of her feet as she ran down the stairs to the lower level, leaving Kyle alone to ruminate over what he’d just done.

  He’d really invited Angie to a party? Exactly how did that further his goal of keeping his distance from her? He thought of the dancing that was sure to be at the party.

  Dancing with Angie. Oh, man.

  Tonight was going to be one hell of a test for his resolve.

  Chapter Nine

  Holiday parties: the true test of your relationship. Up your odds of survival by giving her a diamond before you hit the dance floor.

  –Angie Miller

  When Angie opened the door to let him into her apartment, Kyle knew without a doubt that this had been the worst idea of his entire life. Absolute worst. Even worse than going into business with Roger as a partner.

  Angie was wearing a slinky black dress with tiny little straps and a low cut front. It cupped her body in all the right places.

  She was breathtaking.

  “What?” She shifted under his gaze. “What are you staring at?”

  “I’m wishing you still had a crush on me.”

  Her cheeks flamed a slow red that traveled down her lovely neck to her sexy chest. “Shut up.”

  He decided to obey her command. He didn’t trust the next words out of his mouth not to be a declaration of his need to spend the night inspiring her. Instead, he took her coat out of her hands and held it up for her, dropping it over her shoulders without touching one inch of that luxurious bare skin. How the hell was he supposed to stand back while other men gawked at her this evening?

  He had no idea, but he’d better figure it out fast because he had no claim to her, and he couldn’t afford to make one.

  He let the coat settle on her shoulders, then pulled her hair out from under the collar, letting his fingers trail over the silken strands.

  Angie turned slightly. “See my earrings? Aren’t you proud?” She was wearing Christmas trees made of emeralds, rubies and diamonds. “Total Christmas spirit.”

  But he couldn’t think about the holidays. He was too busy noticing how long and elegant her neck was. He dropped a kiss on it. Just a quick one. One that didn’t mean anything. At all. “Did some beau get you those earrings?”

  She was staring at him in surprise. “I borrowed them from Heidi. Quinn bought them for her last year.”

  “Quinn?” Who was Heidi? Did he care?

  “Her fiancé. They’re getting married on New Year’s.” She sounded out of breath, and she hadn’t moved away from him. His hands were still in her hair, her back against him, his lips inches from her neck. “I hated her for a couple days. I wasn’t in the mood to hear about fiancé type things.”

  “Why not?” Oh, what the hell. One more little kiss couldn’t hurt, could it? He brushed his lips over her neck again, and felt her tense under his hands.

  “Because I was depressed after being dumped.” She sighed and tilted her head a tiny bit.

  “By Roger?”

  “Who?”

  “Roger. Getting dumped by him?” Kyle wondered if it meant that she’d forgotten who Roger was. Had he done that with his kiss? Distracted her to the point that she had no idea who her ex-boyfriend was? Satisfaction thrummed through him. Yeah, he was a bad ass, wasn’t he? Maybe it indicated she was ready to start writing some great stories. That’s right, Kyle. Keep it focused on work.

  “Oh, right.” She wrinkled her nose. “Roger.”

  “You look gorgeous tonight.”

  She turned around so she was facing him, her eyes sparkling. “Really? You weren’t staring at my breasts, so I figured I hadn’t impressed you.”

  “Were you trying to impress me?” He gently took the edges of her coat in his hands and tugged.

  She took a step forward. “I just wanted to try to embarrass you again. You’re cute when you blush.”

  “I don’t blush.” He pulled again, and she didn’t resist, moving even nearer to him.

  “And I suppose you also don’t gawk at women’s breasts.” She was so close he could almost taste her lips.

  “Not women’s breasts in general. Only yours.” He brushed his lips over hers, and she didn’t draw back.

  “So you admit it?” She put her hands on his coat.

  “Never. I admit nothing.” He kissed her then, not a light, experimental kiss to see how she would respond. He wanted her, and he kissed her hard.

  When her mouth parted under his and she met his tongue with equal ardor, he felt like he was where he should be, in the place he’d been searching for his entire life. He let his hands slip off her coat to her waist, where the silky material danced under his fingers, so thin he could feel the heat from her body caressing his fingers. Each rib, her belly button, the curve of her breasts.

  Her arms went around his neck and pulled him closer, her body pressing against his as if she’d been wanting him for as long as he’d craved her, as if she too was unable to rationalize herself out of the kiss.

  He cupped her bottom, crushing her against him while his tongue sought out hers. He couldn’t stop. Didn’t want to stop. He wanted all of her, not just her body. Her mind, her soul, every part of her existence.

  The thought shocked him, and he broke the kiss. He rested his forehead against hers, and her breathlessness nearly drove him back to her mouth. “Angie.”

  “What?”

  “I want to make love to you.”

  She pulled back and looked at him. “Seriously?”

  “No, I just thought I’d risk sexual harassment charges by propositioning one of my staff. So, what do you think? Are you going to sue me?”

  She grinned and socked him softly in the gut. “Maybe. Depends on whether you’re a good lover or not.”

  He felt his gut tighten. “I don’t want to pressure you.”

  “I’ve already decided that I’m not going to sleep with you. It would be a huge mistake for me.” She took a deep breath.

  He traced his finger over her jaw. “Maybe we can think about it at the party. See what we think when we get home.”

  “I’m not going to change my mind.” She punctuated her statement by sucking on his tongue for a few minutes, distracting him from any coherent response

  After a while, he finally summoned the wherewithal to break the kiss long enough to answer her. “Too bad. I’d love to take advantage of you.” He cupped her breasts with his hands, flicking his thumbs over her nipples.

  She made a small sound. “If I changed my mind, which I won’t, I would be the one taking advantage of you. Women’s lib, you know.”

  “Hey, I’m all about equality.” He buttoned her coat up, pausing to give her a long kiss when he got to the top button. “You sure we need to think about it?”

  “I have to go give Swift hell for not sending me an invite,” she said. “And I don’t need to think about it. The answer is no.”

  “Or maybe you don’t need to make a decision now.” He held the door for her, then closed it behind them.

  He would not think about what he was doing. He wasn’t going to think about Roger or the company or anything else. Tonight was about Angie and him, and nothing else mattered.

  *
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br />   It was the best cab ride Angie ever had. Never had she been kissed quite as thoroughly and deliciously.

  And to think she’d actually talked herself out of her crush on Kyle. And then she’d tried to convince herself she didn’t love him? Lies. Total lies.

  The man was better than she’d ever imagined. A better kisser, better sense of humor (okay, so she hadn’t thought he even had a sense of humor, let alone one that could pull her out of a really enduring bad mood), and a great dresser (his office duds were good enough, but the tux he was wearing tonight? It nearly made her want to purr!). And did she mention he was a great kisser? Plus, he made her feel special, loved, appreciated.

  Happy sigh.

  The cab pulled up in front of the posh restaurant that Swift had taken over for the evening. There were bouncers checking invites, and Angie felt a bit decadent being waved inside with the rest of the special people.

  Or maybe she felt decadent because she was on Kyle’s arm, and he was whispering little somethings in her ear about what he wanted to do to her when they got back to her apartment.

  She pushed at him, trying to get distance from his seductive murmurings. “Do you think you can change my mind?”

  “That’s my goal.” Kyle delivered her coat to a man in a red jacket manning the closet, then offered her his arm. “Shall we mingle?”

  “Sure.” As she floated along on his arm, she realized that she was truly enjoying herself for the first time in ages. Not just since Roger had dumped her, but even before then. Roger hadn’t made her feel this special in a long time. Or maybe ever. Kyle had a special touch that had worked its way firmly into her heart.

  She stumbled, and Kyle caught her. “You okay?”

  “Yes, fine.” How had he gotten into her heart? Yes, she’d flirted with the notion that she loved him, but she hadn’t actually felt it. Not like she did right now, with her chest squeezing tight and her heart aching with each touch of his hand. She couldn’t afford to let him in. That was totally a high risk activity she didn’t condone. Especially since he was so clear in his goal to seduce her tonight. What did that mean? Did it mean he’d fallen for her too, or was it more about inspiring her to write better stories?

  It couldn’t be the latter. He wouldn’t do that. A hot kiss was one thing, but making love?

  No, he had to mean it. But he was a guy. Men didn’t necessarily equate lovemaking with love. What if he simply wanted her?

  Ack! This was the same thing she’d done to herself when she’d first met him, reading too much into his actions. Why couldn’t she grab him by the lapels and demand to know whether he was falling in love with her?

  Because even if he was, he wasn’t ready to admit it.

  So where did that leave her?

  Kyle cursed under his breath, and tried to turn them to the right.

  Angie felt his tension. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.”

  But Angie followed his gaze to find Roger and Sheila bearing down on them. Sheila was wearing a gorgeous black shimmery dress that positively oozed sex, and Roger was wearing a tux and looking more than a little annoyed.

  How much hotter was Kyle than Roger? She suddenly realized how ridiculous she’d been to invest so much in Roger, and to let his rejection devastate her so badly. Roger might have made time for her, but he had no depth. No commitment to the company. None of the complexity and romance that Kyle had.

  Roger and Sheila cruised to a stop in front of them. Roger narrowed his eyes at Kyle. “What are you two doing here?” His tone was nice, but there was a hostile undercurrent to his question.

  “Angie’s working on their project, so it made sense.” Kyle dropped his hand from her arm and took a step away, clearly separating himself from Angie.

  Ouch. Apparently, Kyle couldn’t bear to let Roger think they were together. Not that they were together, but they were sort of together. It couldn’t have been clearer if he’d taken out an ad in the New York Times: I value my job more than Angie Miller.

  Roger tightened his lips. “Listen, Sheila and I don’t want to make you two uncomfortable, so maybe it’s better if you both leave.”

  Whoa. She’d forgotten about the Kyle-had-picked-Sheila-over-her thing. How could she have forgotten that little nugget? That’s why her heart had been chopped up in the first place. Twice. Once by each of them. And from the way Sheila was eyeing Kyle, Angie wouldn’t be surprised if Sheila set Roger down in the corner and wrapped her legs around Kyle again.

  See? This is why she wasn’t going to sleep with him.

  “Give me a break, Roger. Neither of us care about you guys.” Kyle put his hand on Angie’s lower back. “We’re going to go dance and we’ll stay out of your way. Have a good evening.”

  She allowed Kyle to direct her only because it was an excuse to get away from Roger and Sheila. But once they got to the floor, she tried to pull away.

  “You’re going to let them bother you?” Kyle slipped his arms around her and pulled her close. “They aren’t worth it.”

  Angie kept her body tense. “It’s not them that upset me. It’s you. Thanks for the reminder that work is more important than me.”

  Kyle frowned. “Why do you say that?”

  “Because Roger came over and gave you that possessive-male-glare-thingy so you let go of me. That’s why I’m not going to sleep with you. Because you’ll put New Age or Sheila or something before me and break my heart again.”

  Kyle stopped dancing and stared at her.

  And stared.

  And stared.

  “Stop looking at me!”

  He shook his head once, then kissed her. Not some brotherly thing on the forehead. It was a bad-girl-sex kind of kiss. The kind that made heat pool inside her instantly, and work its way downward. The kind of kiss that no one at the party would be able to misinterpret.

  Not even Roger or Sheila.

  She pulled back and studied him. “You know what you just did?”

  “I sure do.” He kissed her nose, and his eyes were as dark as she’d ever seen them. “Let’s go introduce you to the person at Swift who signed you on. And then let’s go back to your place and make love until we can’t walk.”

  What woman could say no to that?

  *

  She shut her apartment door behind Kyle, then leaned against it. Could her heart be pounding any louder?

  Kyle faced her, his hands in his overcoat pockets. He said nothing. Just waited.

  For her. He was waiting for her to make the first move. To say yes, she wanted to make love to him.

  “I want to.” It came out a whisper.

  He didn’t move. “But?”

  Ah, he knew her too well. Yet another reason to love him. Which was yet another reason to fear him. “I’m afraid.”

  He smiled. “So am I.”

  She rolled her eyes. Could he say anything else more right? “Kyle.”

  “What?” He took two steps forward until he was directly in front of her.

  “Um…”

  He began unbuttoning her coat. One button at a time, his gaze never leaving her face. “What is it, Angie?”

  “I can’t remember.”

  The back of his right hand grazed her breast as he finished unbuttoning her coat. Something shot through her that nearly took her down. “I want to make love to you, Angie.”

  Oh, hell. How many times did a woman get a chance to make love to a man who affected her so thoroughly? Sometimes a girl had to take a risk. What was a broken heart, anyway? She’d survived last time right?

  She was going in.

  Chapter Ten

  Sometimes, even a big ass diamond isn’t going to save you if you really screw up.

  –Angie Miller

  First thing on the agenda? Engage in a detailed study of his kissing technique. Angie let Kyle remove her coat while she embarked on her detailed research, which he seemed most happy to oblige her with. He tasted like champagne and chocolate—had they had champagne at the party?


  It was too hard to remember things from that long ago when she had to spend her energy trying to recall how to keep her legs from buckling while his hands explored the zipper of her dress.

  Interesting. She could tell him what would happen to her dress once he unzipped it and flipped the straps off her shoulders. But who was she to interfere with the joy of finding things out for himself?

  Especially since she really wanted to get that coat off him. She tugged at his jacket, yanking it over his shoulders just as cold air hit her body, and the silk of her dress slid down her legs like the most sensual of caresses.

  “Sweet Jesus,” Kyle whispered as his gaze swept over her body, as his hands traced her hips almost reverently. “It took me three years to get to this point?” He palmed her hips and yanked her to him. “That was too damn long.” Then he kissed her, the most intense, passionate kiss she’d ever experienced. It was more than a kiss. It was a declaration of ownership, of pure, raw desire, of need so powerful it reached inside her and tore apart her defenses.

  Excitement trilled through her and she faltered. Was she really going through with this?

  Yes.

  Her hands shaking, Angie tried to give herself room to breathe, to gather herself emotionally. “This isn’t fair,” she said as she untied his bow tie. “You’re still dressed.”

  Kyle grinned, untamed lust racing like fiery shadows in his eyes. “Are you going to take care of it, or should I?”

  “I will.” Her breath caught as she unbuttoned the top button, revealing a hint of skin. Oh, God. She wanted more. With a sudden rush of daring that was so unlike her, she grabbed the front of his shirt and tugged it open, popping off the top three buttons. She giggled with embarrassment as they clicked to the floor and rolled away. “I’ve always wanted to do that,” she confessed. God, was she a maven of debauchery or what?

  “Damn, woman.” He grabbed her wrist and backed her against the front hall table. His eyes were blazing with heat, and desire pooled in her belly. This wasn’t the staid businessman she knew. This was a man, a lover, a promise of seduction and passion. “You’re incredible.” He kissed her again, fiercely this time, as he pinned her hips against the table, giving her nowhere to go to escape him.

 

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