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Authors: Margaret Allison

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BOOK: Mistletoe Maneuvers
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Seven

L
essa knew from playing doubles that if a partnership was not strong there was little hope of winning the match. And so she had returned from the Bahamas with a fine-tuned strategy. There was only one way to win Rick's respect. She needed to prove she was a worthy partner.

Fortunately, she had found a way. She had studied the financials and had come to the conclusion that in order to increase the value of the stock, they needed to sell off some of their more expensive assets. That money could then be used to expand, to buy and develop other properties.

Like the property she had found in Florida. Located off the Gulf of Mexico, Mara del Ray was a former luxury resort, a diamond in the rough. Lessa had attended a tennis tournament there as a teenager and from the moment she'd heard that it was for sale she knew it would
be perfect for Lawrence. But where would she get the money to buy it?

Fortunately, there was one resort in particular that was ripe to sell. Located in Antigua, it was now one of their most profitable. But that was certain to change. There was another major resort opening on the island and the resulting competition was bound to affect its value. Better to sell while they were on top. She had made some inquiries and was close to finding a buyer. When she found one, she hoped to present the whole package to Rick and prove once and for all that she knew what she was doing.

“But do you care what Rick thinks?” her aunt asked when Lessa shared the details of her plan.

Yes, she did. So much that when he had walked in and seen her naked, she had done her best to act as if it weren't a big deal. Even though she was mortified, she was not about to act like the hysterical woman who had run out on him the night before. And so she had swallowed her pride and pretended that showing her half-naked body to Rick Parker was something she did every day.

She told none of that to her great-aunt. All she said was “He's my partner, Gran. We have to get along.”

“What exactly happened in the Bahamas?” her aunt asked suspiciously.

“Not much. We had a terrible meeting with Sabrina, and then…” Then they had gone back to the hotel room they'd shared. She'd put on a string bikini. They'd kissed, gone waterskiing, kissed again, gone dancing, kissed yet again and then she'd fallen asleep in his arms. Oh, and then, just in case he hadn't gotten a good enough look at her in the string bikini, she'd shown him what she looked like topless. “That was about it.”

How could she give her elderly aunt the whole truth and nothing but the truth? She didn't want to upset her. And Lessa had no doubt Gran would be upset to learn that since returning from the Bahamas, her niece had been unable to forget about those damned kisses. They were enough to make her forget who she was and where she was going. But it was more than just a few kisses. It was the way he made her feel, as if she were the most interesting person in the world. More than interesting. He made her feel beautiful.

Her aunt was looking at her curiously, as if attempting to decipher the secret meaning behind her words. Lessa knew the woman was hot on her tracks and, in order to throw her off, she had to toss her a bone. “I must admit that Rick surprised me. He can be very charming when he wants.” It was a gift, actually. He was blessed with the gift of sexual magnetism. She could still remember the way the assistants used to flutter around him at her father's office. The giggles and the seductive glimmer in their eyes when they referred to him.

Time, she thought. She just needed some time to clear her head before seeing him again.

“What do you mean?” her aunt asked.

“He was kind and considerate. He was actually worried about me when I was waterskiing.”

“He sounds human. That doesn't make him kind.”

“Did you know he was engaged? She died in a car accident. From the way he spoke about her, he still hasn't recovered. I think that's the reason he never married. He's still nursing a broken heart.”

“Be careful, Lessa. A man like that, one who's been
so wounded, is not the best choice. It'll take quite a bit to heal his broken heart.”

“I'm not going to heal his heart.”

“But you would like to.”

A heavy silence filled the room. Was her aunt right? Did she want to heal his heart?

It was true that she couldn't forget the feel of his hand on hers, the way she had felt when he had looked into her eyes and whispered her name. But it was ridiculous, the whole thing. A romantic fantasy inspired by a romantic setting. That was all.

“Of course not,” Lessa finally responded. “If I feel anything, it's a crush. It's not real.”

“I can't say I'm surprised you have a crush on him. It's the first time you've been alone with a man in how long?”

“I've been busy,” she said defensively.

“Yes, yes, I know. You've been working. As I've told you before, a company can't take you out to dinner. They can't bring you soup when you're sick. They can't keep you warm on cold winter nights.”

“I get it.”

“A company can keep you busy, but it can't prevent loneliness. I'd like to think that if I'm not here next Christmas you'll have someone else beside you.”

“Don't talk like that. You'll be here. As for my love life, who knows? I must admit, I'm a little more hopeful than I have been.”

“Lessa,” her aunt said, “a man like Rick may serve as a distraction, but that's all. A relationship with him is a complication you don't need.”

“Don't worry, Gran. I'm not interested in having a relationship with Rick Parker.”

She had told her aunt a partial truth. She may not want a relationship with him, but one thing was certain. She was dying to kiss him again.

 

By the time Lessa left work, it was close to seven o'clock. The air was crisp and it felt as if it might snow. She paused to wrap her scarf around her neck as she glanced at the store window display. It was a scene right out of a Christmas fairy tale. Snow was falling as a couple kissed underneath trees lined with mistletoe. Just as she started feeling sentimental about the special holiday approaching, a pellet of freezing rain hit her on the nose. She glanced at the cloud-covered sky. The rain was a reminder that in real life, mistletoe trees did not exist and it didn't always snow on Christmas. And sometimes, as much as she and her aunt might wish otherwise, there was no one to kiss under the mistletoe.

She turned away from the window and hurried to the street corner. From the crowd of people desperately trying to hail a cab, she knew her chances of getting one were slim to none. And raining or not, she had promised her aunt a Christmas tree. She would just have to hoof it to the tree vendor as fast as she could. As the horns blew and the people pushed and shoved, her thoughts once again drifted back to palm trees, warm, quiet nights and the man she had kissed.

She had to snap out of this. It was one thing to please a business partner, quite another to dream about seducing him. Although she had spent the day putting together her Antigua deal, pesky thoughts kept interrupting her noble motives. Like how damn good he looked
in swim trunks and the expression on his face when he'd opened the door and seen her half-naked.

In fact, several times that day, she had found herself at the water fountain outside his office, unable to quench her thirst. She was as bad as a teenager with a crush. But she had to forget about what happened in the Bahamas. She was not a kid anymore; she was the chairman of the board and Rick was her partner.

A partner whom she had barely seen since their return. In spite of his desire to cultivate the pretense of a romance, the most contact they had had was an occasional hello in the hallway. There were no meaningful glances, no secret rendezvous, no—

“Lessa?”

She turned around. Rick was behind her, looking every bit the dapper executive. He was wearing a black cashmere coat with a maroon scarf tucked inside. “Hi,” she managed to say.

“Here,” he said, opening his umbrella. “Stand under this.”

“No thanks. Contrary to rumors, I won't melt.”

“I insist.” He smiled as he stepped closer, sheltering her from the rain. “Which way are you going?”

“Fifty-eighth and First,” thinking of the Christmas tree lot.

“My car is parked in a lot near here. I'll drive you.” Her heart jumped into her throat at the thought of being alone with him. They walked to the next corner in silence.

As they waited for the light to change, she could feel him looking at her. Suddenly self-conscious, she smoothed her damp hair and dabbed at the mascara she
was certain had smeared under her eye. “I must look like a drowned rat,” she said.

“You look beautiful,” he said softly.

Beautiful.
He said
beautiful.

Suddenly she was aware of him, very aware. His masculine presence seemed to fill the night. She felt a chill run down her spine and wrapped her arms around her damp trench coat. In her rush to get out of the house that morning, she had taken a coat that was better suited to a warm spring day than a blustery winter night.

“Hold this,” he said, handing her the umbrella. He shrugged off his overcoat and gave it to her. “Put this on.”

“No, that's all right. I'm fine.”

“I insist.”

“But then you'll be cold.”

“Put it on,” he said again. After she hesitated, he added, “I think you know that I'm every bit as stubborn as you.”

Once again she found herself obeying. She wrapped his coat around her, reveling in its musky scent.

“How have things been going for you at the office? Have you been having an easier time?” he asked as they walked down Fifth Avenue. Little gold lights sparkled on the barren trees, and store windows beckoned with spectacular holiday displays.

“No one's poisoned my coffee but they're not exactly standing in line to shake my hand either. I did overhear some women discussing me in the bathroom however. Seems that word of our overnight in the Bahamas is making the gossip circuit. Quite frankly, I think some of the women in the office are hoping that we
are
having a romance. That maybe our office romance will pave the way for more.”

“What do you mean, pave the way?”

“Come on now,” she teased. “You've noticed how the women there flock around you.”

He shook his head and squinted his eyes. “What are you talking about?”

“Rick, you must know that many women who work with you harbor a secret, and sometimes not-so-secret, crush. They know you have a rule about avoiding office romances. They figure you getting involved with me can only be good. After all, if you broke your rule with me, then maybe you'll break it with them as well.” There. She had spelled it out.

“So they're assuming we're going to break up?”

“I think it's safe to say the answer is a big yes. After all, you're not exactly a one-woman man.”

“I see,” he said with a twinkle in his eye. He was obviously enjoying this conversation. “I'll tell you what. When it comes time to break up, I'll let you do the honors.”

“That would be quite a claim to fame. I fire you
and
break up with you. I'll go down in history.”

He laughed, a deep and hearty response. She couldn't help but feel proud to have elicited such a reaction. His laughs were few and far between. He hesitated and the look in his eyes softened. “Well then, we'll have to give them something to talk about tomorrow night.”

As she looked into his eyes, her heart jumped. Tomorrow night was the Christmas party, an event she had worked hard to produce. Up until now, she had viewed it with anxiety, yet another project for which she would be held accountable. But the thought of attending it with Rick, the thought of having to pretend once
again that they were lovers, was enough to elicit a tingle of excitement. She cleared her throat, pretending not to be affected. “That's right,” she said.

She glanced beside her, suddenly realizing that they were in front of Saks department store. Every Christmas, Saks decorated their windows with magnificent Christmas displays. This year's were the most amazing yet. Each window contained a mannequin dressed in haute couture, posed in fabulous scenes meant to represent a fantasy.

The window directly in front of them contained a mannequin dressed like a woman from the eighteen-hundreds. She looked elegant and wealthy in her diamond tiara and jewelry. But she sat in a slump in an expensive chair, her beautiful gown flouncing around her gold slippers. In her hand was a letter from her lover stating that he would not be back for Christmas.

“I think she's supposed to represent the woman who seems like she has everything, but she herself feels like she has nothing.”

“What does that have to do with Christmas?”

“Well, I think it speaks to the fact that for some people, Christmas can be a very lonely time of year. It's hard to be single during a holiday that emphasizes family.”

“You sound like you're speaking from experience,” he said.

She had not expected such a personal comment and it caught her off guard. “I guess so. There are times when I wish that I had a husband and kids like some of my friends. Times when I can't shake the feeling that I'm missing out on something.”

“I think that's human nature, though, isn't it? To wonder if perhaps the grass isn't greener?”

“You feel that way, too?”

“Sure. Sometimes even I wish that—”

“You had someone to kiss under the mistletoe?” she said before she could stop herself. She winced. “What am I saying? You've got plenty of women to kiss under the mistletoe.”

“I know what you mean,” he said, hurrying to her defense. “And the answer is yes. Sometimes even I wish that I had someone to kiss under the mistletoe. Someone that I loved.”

She appreciated Rick making such a personal admission. He may be a pirate, but it was becoming obvious that he still had a heart.

BOOK: Mistletoe Maneuvers
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