Operation: Santa's Elf: 3 Sweet & Spicy Christmas Novellas (Operation: Holiday Cheer Book 1)

by Allyson Lindt

  Eli paused inside the front entrance, and inhaled deeply. The entire place had the lingering scent of sawdust and paint, and it was nice, just this once, to smell it overlaid with the familiar zing he associated with Marley.

  “Hello?” His greeting echoed through the empty halls.

  “Conference room.” There was way too much cheer in her voice, given the hour. Unless she’d found that hot hookup the night before after all.

  He swallowed the surge of envy, and followed her voice. When he rounded the corner at the end of the hall, he paused in the doorway. She was sitting on the row of cabinets against the back wall, legs swinging, arms on the counter top, every inch of her gorgeous body extended and accentuated. Even with a hoodie hiding some of her curves, it was a struggle for him to force his gaze to her face. The cold from outside still dotted her cheeks with pink, and her lips curved into a smile when she saw him.

  “Morning, sleepyhead.” Her cheer was contagious. A part of his mind asked what it would take for him to bring a bigger smile to her face. Pulling off her sweatshirt. Sliding his hands up her stomach. Stroking and caressing every inch of her, until she wore a giant grin the rest of the day, and then some.

  Which he wasn’t going to do. He banished the thoughts, crossed the room, and handed her drink over.

  A soft sigh escaped her parted lips, when their fingers met. “Your hands are warm.”

  His hands were always warm. A side effect of being the son of Fárbauti. His father was named after the lightning that struck dry brush and caused forest fires, and while Eli hadn’t inherited all of his family’s gifts, he still had that heat flowing through him. Not that he was going to tell her that. “Or yours are cold.”

  He covered her hands, sandwiching them between his palms and her coffee cup. A new type of heat seared through him at the contact. It was accompanied by the desire to pin her to the counter, and let his fingers roam over every inch of her until they were both hot and spent.

  He tried to be subtle about pulling away, needing to get some space between them, before his imagination drove out of control. “I’ll put the hubs in the server room.” Strain tinged his voice. With any luck, she hadn’t noticed.

  “All right.” Creases lined her forehead, and he saw the corners of her mouth tug down, before she hid her lips behind her coffee cup.

  It didn’t take as long as he’d hoped to relocate the boxes, but he still couldn’t rein in his rambling thoughts. He couldn’t shake the questions about whether or not she’d actually gone out the night before. Normally he didn’t care whom his employees dated, or how they spent their free time. Marley was different. She occupied his thoughts when she shouldn’t.

  There were more important things in the universe than the fleeting nature of lust. Except in his case. Where any feeling that became more—love for instance—had the potential to kill that one woman…

  A sickening creak filled the room, and he winced at the now crushed rack component in his hands. He had to have squeezed too hard while he was lost in his thoughts. Fortunately, they had extras.

  “Tell me that arrived broken.” Concern tinged Marley’s joke. “There’s no way you just crushed a solid steel shelf component, right?”

  Shit. He hadn’t meant for her to see that. Could he just laugh it off? He set the metal cage aside, and turned to face her. “I didn’t like the way it was looking at me.”

  Her uncertain laugh filled the room, and summoned more of his regret and frustration. “Seriously, are you all right? I mean, I don’t know, you seem…off this morning.” She leaned against the door frame, gaze raking his face, and concern clouding her expression.

  “Everything’s fine.” It took more willpower than it should’ve to force his tone to stay even. “We need to get to work.”

  She didn’t step aside. “Soon. First tell me what’s up today? Don’t give me this ‘nothing’ bullshit. Is this more serious than you’re telling me? Shit, they’re not going fire us, if we don’t get this done. Are they?”

  No. He knew for certain no one was letting him go. Not that he wanted to explain the ins and outs of that to her. He could just picture the conversation now. No, we’re not getting fired, because my father is an ancient god, who didn’t know what to do with his life besides start a property and casualty underwriting company, and no one else in the family knows how to make the computers sing the way I do.

  Then she’d want to know why he was making shit up instead of giving her straight answers. No, he wasn’t having that conversation. “No one’s getting fired.”

  She uncrossed her arms, and some of the tension drained from her face. “So what is it?”

  Nothing he was comfortable telling her. And yet, the words slipped out before he could think them through. “Not that it’s any of my business—”

  “Let me stop you right there.” She held up a hand, palm toward him. “If you start a sentence that way, you know it means you shouldn’t even be thinking whatever you’re about to say, right?”

  He probably knew it better than she could imagine. “Exactly.” He brushed past her, a surge of want flowing through him when his shoulder met hers.

  She grabbed his sleeve. “But it also means I’m not letting you walk away without finishing your statement.”

  Damn it. Maybe if he got this off his chest, he could admit to himself he was being jealous and irrational, and then they could get back to work. “There’s no inappropriate thought. I promise. You seem like you had fun last night.”

  “I guess you could call it that.” She relaxed further, teasing sliding into her response. “And what’s all this ‘it’s none of my business,’ crap? First, since when do we pull punches with each other?”

  His thoughts ground and clicked on her words, as he searched for hidden meaning but didn’t dare find any. “I don’t—”

  “I’m not finished. Second, I went out to try and unwind, some painfully-persistent guy hit on me with some of the cheesiest lines ever, and I’d rather put it behind me.”

  Relief flowed through him, tempered by his need to keep his reactions under control. “I’m sorry it wasn’t a great experience.”

  She tightened her grip on his arm. “I’m not.”

  He shouldn’t ask, but lust-driven possessiveness pushed the question out anyway. “What happened?”

  “Nothing specific. Nothing horrible. I just would’ve rather…” A flush spread over her cheeks and she ducked her head. “Nothing. You’re right. We should get on this whole work thing.”

  *

  Marley had almost verbally slipped in the server room. She was still trying to wrap her brain around the fact she’d seen Eli crush a quarter-inch thick piece of metal like it was paper. There had to have been a week point in the rack, but the sight still had her distracted.

  On top of that, after her abysmal encounter at the bar the night before, the coffee, and the spark she swore was tangible flowing between her and Eli that morning, she’d almost confessed she would have rather have spent the evening with him than cruising any bar. But she wasn’t crossing that line. Toeing it, maybe. She wouldn’t deny that. Smudging it? On occasion. Jumping completely over it? Not today. No, wait. Not ever. Right. She had to remember that.

  Fortunately, once they started working, things went back to normal. She crimped connectors on the cables he measured out. With no eye contact, it was easier to pretend she wasn’t attracted to him, and just talk.

  “At least tell me Mister Last-night didn’t do what the previous guy did.” His teasing laugh fell short, and he snapped his mouth shut when her head shot up.

  Please don’t let him be talking about… “Which last guy?”

  He glanced in her direction before turning back to his cable. “The one who wanted pictures.”

  She never should’ve given him so much detail after that date. She’d done it because she liked the idea of him making a similar request, and had been trying to judge his reaction, but that didn’t mean it was a good idea. “It wasn�
�t like that.”

  He put down what he was doing, and gave her his full attention. “Is something wrong?”

  “No.” She turned back to the cable, crimping as furiously as possible while still being accurate. She wouldn’t look at him from her spot on the counter, pretending it wasn’t a big deal.

  Eli extracted himself from the spindle and snakes of wires, and crossed the room. He took the crimpers from her hand, and set all of her work aside too. “Except you just crimped an RJ45 onto that cable instead of an RJ12. What’s up?”

  Oops. She never made mistakes like putting a network connector on a phone cable. Her pulse raced through her veins at his light touch, making it hard to think. She needed to look away, but his gaze held her captive. If she’d been drawing a blank before, it was nothing compared to now.

  He’d put the thought in her head. The reminder one of her dates had asked for pictures when he’d dropped her off. Told her if she wasn’t going home with him, she at least owed him a topless shot to keep him warm that night. And part of her had never shaken the fantasy of doing that for Eli.

  The temptation of turning him on, without ever touching him. “You’re telling me you can’t guess?”

  The corner of his mouth pulled into a lazy smile. “I’m telling you I don’t want to guess.”

  She couldn’t ignore the mental images of what it would feel like if he leaned in and kissed her. “I just… It’s not as though I had a problem with the request from Mister Send-me-pictures. Just with the requester.”

  There, that hadn’t been so bad. They could gloss over it, laugh about it, and go back to work. Except she’d rather they took a break and got down to other things instead.

  “Really?” His thumb stroked the inside of her wrist. Did he know he was doing that? She sure as hell did. The feather-light sensation spilled through her, desire growing between her legs. He stepped closer. “Who would it take, then? Just out of curiosity.”

  They needed to get this project done. To step away from this line before it was too late. Who was she kidding? It had been too late months ago. At least for her. “Well, I’d have to like the guy first. Actually being attracted to him helps.” Would Eli have any idea she was talking about him? What the hell was wrong with her? And why couldn’t she stop?

  His voice dropped an octave. “And I would assume you can’t dive straight into things. You’d want seduction. Teasing. The right words to set the mood…”

  Even as she told herself to back away now, images raced through her thoughts, of stripping in front of the camera, one piece of clothing at a time, knowing Eli was her audience. A hands-off, private show where she’d caress herself, pinch her nipples, slide her fingers between her legs, and get off on the idea that she could turn him on that way.

  The vivid image wouldn’t leave. Her sex whimpered for attention, and her breasts ached to press into his palms.

  Chapter Three

  Eli had two choices. Back away—and there was no way he could hide how hard he was if he did—or go with the flow until Marley told him to stop. As long as he remembered this was only a physical response, nothing more than lust, and let her call the shots, it would be fine.

  His cock strained against his jeans when she licked her lips. Well, not completely fine. He needed to do something about his body’s response, even if he was ignoring his reservations. Screwing her was a bad idea for more reasons than he could list. But things would be mostly fine.

  He stepped closer, holding her gaze. “In other words, in order for you to text a guy sexy pictures, you’d want a genuine lead in. For example, ‘if I were there right now, I’d slide up behind you, and trace the back of your neck with my lips.’”

  A tiny mewl, so soft he wasn’t sure he heard it, tore from her throat. “That’s a good start.” Her voice was low and husky.

  He raked his gaze over her, pausing on her chest before looking her in the eye again. “Say this unnamed guy followed up with more. For instance, ‘next I’d slide my hands up your stomach...’”

  Her breathing sped up, but she didn’t pull her hands out of his grip. “From the right guy, especially if I was imagining him there, that would do something for me.”

  His dick throbbed at the thought of being on the receiving end of those pictures. Or better, pushing between her legs and making the hypothetical conversation a reality. Which sounded like the most incredible idea ever, but he was pretty sure it was because all the blood had rushed from his head. He needed to decide now. Could he risk this with her? Could he keep her on staff, keep her friendship, keep her alive…if he let things get physical?

  Her frown contradicted the fact her chest was still heaving. She pulled her hands from his, and disappointment welled inside him. She scooted sideways on the counter, and hopped to her feet, not making any more contact between them.

  He forced his voice to remain steady. “So really, all you’re asking for is a gentleman who isn’t afraid to pin you down in the bedroom, but still has more consideration for those around him than for himself.”

  “Exactly.” The word was flat, and she wouldn’t look at him. The flush on her lips and the pink in her cheeks proved she was as turned on as he was. All he had to do was tug her back into the conversation. Push things a little further.

  The decision over whether to nudge things further or back away now warred in his skull, until he shook his head. “Too bad for Mister Last-night he wasn’t that guy.”

  “Yeah. Too bad.”

  He turned away, and took a deep breath to clear his head. It didn’t help. He yanked the last of his restraint up past arousal and desire, and forced his voice to stay steady. “If you have enough of those crimped, we should drop them before we make more, or we’ll get a big tangled mess.”

  “Sure. Good idea.”

  He couldn’t ignore how the disappointment and confusion in her tone matched his thoughts. He’d heard it enough times, relating to failed projects, that it tore away another chunk of his resolve. This was the right way to go, though. They didn’t need to do something she’d regret. He’d be worried about the other consequences, those related to his curse, but he knew better than to call lust anything other than what it was.

  He still couldn’t look at her. It would take at least a couple of minutes to subdue his cock’s raging want. He nodded toward the cubes they had agreed to start wiring in. “I’ll drag everything over.”

  He knew the busy work he was doing, fiddling with nothing in particular, wasn’t fooling her. What had he been thinking? Just a couple minutes of harmless flirting, and he’d almost blown a fantastic working relationship. Behind him, he heard the shuffle of her doing what he’d asked, but silence filled the remaining space between them. This was going to be awkward, unless he brought it under control now.

  “Marley, listen.” He turned to face her. “I didn’t—”

  “Don’t.” The single word was clipped. “Whatever that was, whatever it is you’re thinking, whatever you’re about to say, don’t make it worse. It’s done. It’s over. It was what it was. And now this is a different time and place.”

  “I didn’t—”

  “Please?” She finally met his gaze.

  The desperation in her request devoured him. He didn’t want to leave things unresolved, but since he wasn’t sure what to say anyway, and he didn’t want to refuse her request… “Done.”

  “Thank you.” Her sad smile left a gaping wound in his chest. Seconds later, her emotion vanished behind a mask of business. “I’m going to run line for the first block of cubes. Feed me the right cables?”

  The builders had wired the walls, but it was up to Marley and him to do the external work. Along each section of wall in the office, there was a single panel with multiple outlets. A latch allowed them to open it up and add more if they needed, as well as get to any wires to troubleshoot.

  She sat on the ground, legs crossed, and held out her hand. He passed her a cable, cut the right length to run under and reach the first cubicle
in that block.

  He knew the conversation was over. She wasn’t going to mention it again, and probably preferred to forget it had happened. But he couldn’t stop it from replaying in his mind, the fantasy ending in a different way each time, but always with clothes coming off. She fed the cable through the bottom section of cubicle, and pushed it until it hit its next exit point—a built-in spot in the metal trim, for electrical and network wires.

  Even now, quiet, composed, engrossed in her work, she was gorgeous. Each movement enhanced the way her waist slid into grabbable hips, and her tendency toward biting her lip when she was focused threatened to make him hard again.

  Her fingers brushed the electrical outline on the cube trim, and a sickening crack filled the room. She fell back, head slamming against the floor, and the lights blinked out.

  “Marley?” Panic crept into his voice, as she lay there. Unmoving.

  Shit. He dropped to his knees, ignoring the jolt that reverberated through him, and pressed his fingers to her throat. No pulse. “Marley.” He scooted closer, fear gripping his insides.

  Her chest wasn’t moving. He leaned his head down, ear next to her face. She wasn’t breathing. Her heart wasn’t beating. Damn it. Had he done this? Was it the curse?

  No. He took a deep breath, and forced the irrational thoughts aside. It had been seconds at best. And it wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t as if he’d fallen for her. Faulty wiring had caused this—and for some odd reason the breakers hadn’t flipped until it was too late—and he needed to save her now.

  He cradled the back of her neck in both hands, and rested his thumbs in the hollow of her throat, directly below her jaw where her pulse should be. He turned his attention inward. There was the spark he needed. Not too much. Nothing to jolt her. Just enough to massage her system back. It wasn’t all science. He had just enough power in him to draw her soul back from the edge of death, on top of kick-starting her heart.