The Wish

by Becca Steele

  It was a plastic snowglobe, one of those widely available in every single tourist shop in London. This one, though, had a scene of Trafalgar Square, complete with the giant Christmas tree that I made a wish on every year. It couldn’t have been more perfect for me. I’d been wishing under that tree ever since I was a little girl, and it was my one tradition that I’d never veered from.

  I got a bit of a lump in my throat, and couldn’t help wondering who my Secret Santa had been. Hopping off the desk I’d been sitting on, I went into Ethan’s office to stash the snowglobe safely in my bag.

  When I returned to the main office, “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” was playing, and I watched as everyone began coupling up. I saw Olivia and Luke, standing with their arms round each other, totally oblivious to the rest of the room. Luke gently grasped Olivia’s chin and tipped her head up to meet his eyes, then lowered his head, meeting hers for a long, slow kiss. Ethan took Avery’s hand, kissed it, then none-too-subtly gestured towards the corridor that led to the conference room, and led her away from the others, sliding his arms around her as they went. Eddie and George swayed to the music, and Delia’s husband, Bertie, paraded her around the office with a twinkle in his eye, both of them beaming.

  I was happy, I really was, but I couldn’t help feeling a twinge of loneliness. Even Ethan and Luke’s best friend Alex, who normally flirted with anyone single, was here with a date. Although, having said that, Olivia had mentioned something him having lost a bet to his housemates and been forced to bring her. So, maybe ‘date’ wasn’t the right word. Neither of them looked particularly pleased to be with each other, standing with their arms folded, their postures tense. Frankly, if it was to do with Alex and women, I’d learned it was best not to get involved.

  As I glanced over at Alex, I accidentally caught his eye, and a huge grin appeared on his formerly impassive face, his dimples popping out. In a few short strides, he was standing in front of me, blue eyes sparkling under the strings of fairy lights.

  “Ashley, babe, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” He grabbed me and spun me around in a circle, making me laugh despite myself. He was a massive flirt, but so likeable that his flirtation attempts didn’t annoy me. Usually.

  “Having fun, Alex?” I raised a brow at him and subtly indicated towards the woman he’d been standing with, who was now tapping on her phone screen, a bored expression on her face.

  “Don’t even ask,” he sighed, his grin disappearing as he followed my gaze.

  “This isn’t like you. Where’s your Christmas spirit? Go on—ask her to dance, and turn on your Alex charm. She’ll be putty in your hands before you know it.”

  “I can’t charm this one.” He pouted, and I laughed again.

  “Try harder. Go on.” I gave him a little nudge, and he gave another heavy sigh, but complied. I watched as he leaned down to whisper in her ear, then she rolled her eyes and shrugged, and they started dancing, holding each other at arms’ length, but I noticed a tiny smile appear on the woman’s lips.

  My work was done, and I needed a break. I decided to leave the office for a bit. Walking out into the hallway, I pressed the button for the lift, to take me up to the top floor, where there was a small roof space—technically we weren’t supposed to use it, but it was an unofficial smoking area used by the businesses in the building. Not that I smoked, at all, but I’d been up there a few times.

  The lift stopped at the twentieth floor, and I stared at the doors with trepidation, realising that I hadn’t thought this through. I was roaming around the building on my own, in an extremely skimpy outfit and a Santa hat, standing out like a sore thumb, and none of my friends knew where I was.

  The doors opened and a potbellied man with a side parting slicked over his balding head entered. “Alright, darling?” he leered at me, and I shuddered, darting past him and out of the lift, desperate not to be stuck in an enclosed space with him.

  Not looking where I was going, I ran smack into a hard body.

  I lost my breath.

  Tingles of electricity shot through my entire being as the person I’d run into gripped my arms, stopping me from losing my balance.

  “Are you okay?” His amused voice sounded close to my ear, and I shivered, not from the cold. My eyes flew up to meet his grey ones.

  Looking sexy, suave and delicious enough to eat, his sharp jaw covered in the lightest dusting of stubble, his chestnut hair perfectly styled, his body covered in a tailored suit that fitted him like a glove, and polished black loafers.

  It was him.

  The man from the coffee shop.

  I tore myself away from his grip and ran.

  3

  Ashley

  Déjà vu. The first time I’d seen him, I’d run into the bathroom to get away, and now I was doing exactly the same thing.

  Why was I running? I couldn’t even say. This man flustered me beyond belief, my unexpected attraction to him so strong, that he scrambled my mind.

  Entering the twentieth-floor bathroom, the location identical to those on the fifteenth floor where my office was, I gripped the counter, breathing hard, willing myself to calm down.

  The door suddenly swung open behind me, and I met a pair of steel eyes in the mirror. What the hell? He’d followed me in here?

  Flipping the lock, his eyes never leaving mine, he came up behind me. I felt his body heat, his solid chest against my back.

  I held my breath, not daring to speak.

  He inclined his head, running his nose up my neck, and nipped at my lobe, before kissing the shell of my ear.

  I forgot to breathe. All the warnings about strangers flew out of my mind, and I whimpered, pleasure coursing through me at his mouth on my skin. My legs, already shaky, wobbled, and his arms came around me.

  “Steady,” he murmured, his voice dripping with pure sex.

  Fuck. I arched back, feeling his hard cock pressing into my ass, and he groaned. He slid his hands up to my breasts, my nipples already pebbled, and caressed me until I was moaning incoherently.

  He watched me in the mirror, his grey eyes darkened to black. Sliding his hands up and over my shoulders, he kissed down my neck and along my collarbone. He spun me around and hoisted me onto the countertop.

  Our lips met for the first time.

  It was explosive.

  Damn, he could kiss. His tongue explored my mouth, tangling with mine, his lips tasting me while his hands pushed up my skirt. He slid a hand between my legs, pushing my underwear aside and running a finger over my wetness.

  “Oh fuck,” I breathed, my head falling back, banging into the mirror, making it wobble. He pushed a finger inside me, curling it, causing me to moan. Loudly.

  “Shhhh.” His lips descended on mine, swallowing my moans. I hooked my legs around him, pulling him closer. Without breaking our kiss, I fumbled for his belt, somehow managing to undo it. He stilled my hand, pulling back to look at me, his fingers still working inside me, taking me closer and closer to the edge.

  “You sure you want this?” His voice was a low rasp.

  “Yes,” I moaned. There was no stopping this. I needed him inside me. Now.

  He withdrew his fingers and I made an incoherent noise of protest, my eyes pleading with him to hurry. Reaching into his pocket he pulled out a leather wallet, and opened it. Condom. Right. He shoved the wallet carelessly in his pocket and ripped open the packet.

  “Let me.” I undid his trousers, and leaned down to reach into his boxers. He hissed as I touched his thick, hard cock, and I oh-so-slowly rolled on the condom, sliding my hands along his hardness. Staring down at my hands on him, he growled low in his throat, his restraint gone, and I moved my hands up to grip his strong, solid biceps, as he roughly pushed my underwear aside again, thrusting inside me without warning.

  He filled me so completely. Staying perfectly still for a moment to allow me to get used to the sensation, his eyes met mine once again.

  “Ready?”

  I nodded.
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br />   Then he was thrusting in and out of me, his hands on my ass, my clit, my breasts; everywhere he touched sent jolts of pure electricity racing through me. I closed my eyes, holding onto him as I rode his cock to the most powerful climax of my life. I felt him pulse inside me, then he was following me over the edge, my pussy clenching around him until we were both completely spent.

  “I guess we should exchange names.” My voice came out husky and breathless.

  He gave a dark chuckle. “It’s a bit late for that, darling. Don’t you think?” Pulling out of me, he disposed of the condom. I wanted to clean up, but it was a little awkward, when the reality of what we’d done suddenly hit me.

  Cocking his head, he studied me, his steel eyes giving nothing away. “Listen. I have an unopened bottle of champagne in my office. What do you say we reconvene back there in five minutes, and you can tell me your name, and why you’re dressed like a Christmas elf.”

  I spluttered indignantly. “I’m not an el—”

  “Five minutes.” He placed a finger to my lip, silencing me. “Turn left out of here,” he indicated towards the door, “first door on your left, then go through the reception area and turn right once you’re inside. You’ll see me.”

  Without another word he strode from the room, leaving my head spinning. Had that really just happened?

  Reality crashed over me, as I returned to the fifteenth floor on shaky legs. Eddie was standing outside the office door, and he took one look at me, and demanded to know who I’d been “fooling around with.” The whole story came out, and he stared at me, open-mouthed, as I recounted what had just happened, and how he was the man from the coffee shop.

  “What are you waiting for? Get back up there,” Eddie hissed, when I’d finished. “It’s a sign. You can’t ignore it.”

  “I don’t know whether I should, Ed.”

  He sighed. “Look, I’m coming with you, so you don’t need to worry about that. I don’t want you being inadvertently abducted or anything. Now, go pick up your phone, and we’ll check this guy out. Okay?”

  I knew there was no arguing with him, once he’d made his mind up. And if I was honest with myself, I was only hesitating because I felt like I should, not because I wanted to.

  Somehow, I ended up back on the twentieth floor with a small entourage made up of Eddie, George, and Lisa. When we arrived at the entrance to the Enterprise Consultancy offices, Eddie stopped dead just inside the sliding glass doors, in front of the empty reception desk.

  “Which one is he?” he hissed to me, pointing at a large board on the wall with corporate headshots of all the staff members.

  “Him.” My gaze went straight to his photo—sexy, commanding, and powerful, his eyes steely and determined, piercing through me.

  “Marcus Drummond,” George murmured, studying the image.

  “Marcus Drummond,” Eddie gasped at exactly the same time, placing a dramatic hand on his forehead and pretending to swoon. “What are you waiting for? Go, go, go!”

  I stared at him. “You know him?”

  “Not personally, but you remember how I told you the men on floor twenty were hot? He’s pretty much the hottest of them all.” I opened my mouth, then closed it again when he continued, “and no, I don’t know anything about him, other than the fact he’s extremely good-looking, and he’s on the board at Enterprise Consultancy. Now go! And message me later with all the gossip.” With a wink, he dragged George and Lisa out of the room, both of them slightly bemused, but putting up no resistance.

  On slightly shaky legs, I walked through the reception area and turned right, and immediately saw him. He was reclining in a leather chair behind a huge desk, inside an office with glass walls and huge windows behind him, the same as those in our office.

  When he saw me, he stood, crossing over to a couch that sat underneath the windows, a small kidney-shaped table with an open bottle of champagne and two glasses in front of it. He dropped down onto the couch, and crooked a finger at me in invitation.

  I gathered my courage. Yes, I was wildly attracted to him. Yes, he was most definitely the sexiest man I’d ever laid eyes on. Yes, there was something that drew me to him like nothing I’d ever experienced before. But at the end of the day, we’d become intimately acquainted, to put it politely, so we’d already skipped past several steps in the ‘getting to know you’ game. Flicking my hair over my shoulder, I gathered my courage and sauntered towards him, and he watched me as a predator would watch its prey, all coiled tension, ready to strike, and devour me whole.

  “Marcus Drummond,” I said, sinking onto the chair next to him.

  He raised a brow. “Well, now, I’m at a disadvantage, because I don’t know your name.”

  “Ashley. Ashley Ronson.”

  “Ashley.” My name, rolling off his tongue, sounded decadent and almost sinful, and I shivered. His eyes darkened, and he leaned forwards. I hardly dared to breathe as he picked up my hand and brought it to his lips, softly kissing the back before lowering it. Onto his firm, muscular thigh.

  My eyes flew to my hand and nerves overtook me.

  “Don’t look so worried. I’m not about to attack you. Let’s have a drink, and talk. Get to know one another.” He held my gaze steadily, waiting for my reply.

  “Okay. Talk. I can do that. Let me get more comfortable.”

  He watched, amused, as I slipped my feet out of my shoes, and curled my legs under me on the sofa. Pulling the Santa hat off my head, I shook out my blonde waves, and placed the hat on the table.

  Marcus handed me a champagne flute.

  “Tell me, Ashley Ronson, why exactly are you dressed like a Christmas elf?” His arm was around the back of the sofa, and he idly toyed with my hair as he spoke, making me shiver again.

  “I’m not an elf. I just…wanted to be festive. Christmas is the best time of year, don’t you think?”

  His expression shuttered. “Not for me.”

  “Why not?” I leaned closer to him. The need to touch him was almost overwhelming, and I lightly placed my hand on his arm, feeling the soft fabric of his shirt underneath my fingers. I stroked my hand up and down, almost involuntarily, until I noticed his gaze locked on my movements, and I stopped.

  “Because I work a lot, and I don’t have any family to speak of—none that I’m close enough to spend Christmas with, at least. I normally spend Christmas Day here, catching up on work while it’s quiet.”

  I couldn’t stop my horrified gasp. “You spend Christmas Day at work? Are you serious?”

  “Deadly.” His mouth set in a hard line, and I noticed a muscle ticking in his jaw. He drew back from me and I backpedalled, trying to smooth things over.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude. I’m just having a hard time getting my head round someone choosing to work on Christmas Day.”

  “There’s not much else to do, is there?” A hint of bitterness crept into his low voice. “I can spend the day alone, while everyone else plays happy families, or I can do something productive with my time.”

  “Oh, I see. Well, I’m going to be alone, too. But I’m actually excited by the prospect, if I’m honest with you.”

  “Do you live alone?” He cocked a brow at me.

  “No…”

  “That’s why, then. If you spend your whole life alone, what’s another day of many? At least in work, I can keep myself occupied.”

  I had no idea why he was opening up to me but I wasn’t about to stop him. There was a connection between us, something I couldn’t even put into words. It just felt like this was meant to happen.

  Shifting on the couch, I moved closer to him until I was pressed against his body. From this angle I had to tilt my head to look at him, but the need to be close to him was consuming me.

  “You know what I like to do every Christmas Eve?” I decided to tell him my silly story, hoping it would lighten the dark mood that had settled over him. He looked down at me, his grey eyes softening almost imperceptibly.

  “Tell me.”


  “Well, there’s a tradition that I have every year. I go to Trafalgar Square, you know, where they have the giant Christmas tree?”

  He gave a small nod, the hand that was playing with my hair now trailing down my arm, setting off a chain of goosebumps with his touch.

  “I get a hot chocolate and go and listen to the carol singers in the square. Once they’ve finished and it’s less crowded, I make a wish on the Christmas tree.” I laughed. “It sounds ridiculous, but there’s something so magical about it.”

  “What do you wish for?” His eyes were curious, interested.

  “All sorts of things. Like last year, my mum was upset and missing my sister who emigrated to Australia, so I wished that she could spend this Christmas with her.” I leaned my head on his chest, and he pulled me closer. We’d gone from zero to sixty in the space of about an hour, yet I’d never felt so comfortable with anyone before, outside of my own family.

  “And did your wish come true?” His low rumble vibrated through me.

  “Yes. My parents are in Tasmania now, having the time of their lives going by the photos they’ve sent me. I know magic isn’t real, but if it was, Christmas is the one time of year when you can believe in it, right?”

  He chuckled, his dark mood finally lifting. “I’ll take your word for it. Now, tell me, where do you work in this building? I’m assuming you work here?”

  We spent the next hour learning about each other. Marcus kept an arm around me the entire time, constantly caressing me, sending tingles through my whole body. I never wanted the evening to end, but when the champagne was gone and my phone started chiming with messages, I realised our time was up.

  “That’s Avery, my friend. Fiancée of my boss, too. Her and Ethan—that’s my boss—are driving me home on their way to the airport to fly to Switzerland for Christmas. I’d better go.”

  “I’ll walk you back down,” he told me, getting to his feet in one smooth movement and pulling me up with him. He grasped my hand and kept hold of it the entire time, until we were standing on floor fifteen, outside my office doors.