The Naughty List Bundle with The Night Before Christmas & Yule Be Mine. Fern Michaels
out.
The anger that fired Jonas’s blood didn’t cool as the door closed with a soft snick. “Is that what you wanted?” he demanded.
Revenge sex. If Lydia had been right, Christie had just scored a major hit. Gotten her jealous ex to take a swing at the new man.
But she shook her head and, for an instant, sadness slipped over her face. “No, I-I almost had what I wanted but…maybe it’s just not in the cards, huh?”
She shrugged out of his jacket and handed it back to him. Silently, she found her sweater and dressed. A light red stained her cheeks. Embarrassed?
Hell, he had been moving fast with her. But wasn’t fast what she’d wanted?
In seconds, her clothes were positioned perfectly, but her hair was a bit wild, and her lips were still red and swollen.
Then she leaned up and pressed that sweet mouth against his. A kiss too light, too fleeting. Her breath whispered against him. “Good night, Jonas.” Her hand hovered over her stomach as she pulled away, and yeah, that was definitely fear in her eyes.
But what was she afraid of?
He watched her walk out of the office, her steps sure. He bent down and picked up the scrap of lace that had fallen on the floor.
He could give Christie everything she wanted, if she’d just trust him. The problem was…he didn’t know if Christie was afraid of him or herself.
His fingers tightened around her panties. He didn’t know, but he’d damn well find out.
He hurried out of her office, narrowly avoiding a collision in the hallway with a redhead in a dark green dress. “Have you—have you seen Charles Crenshaw?” she asked quietly. “I think”—she took a deep breath—“I think he came here looking for Christie.”
“They’re both gone,” he told her and saw her eyes widen. Oh, wait, shit, could this be Vicki? Lydia had been talking about the redhead, too. Lydia had liked to talk about everyone. “They didn’t leave together.”
“Oh.” Relief flashed across her face.
Right. Whatever. She could deal with Dumbass. Charles wasn’t a priority for him anymore.
Only Christie mattered.
The snow had just started to fall when Christie heard the knock at her door. She’d been staring out the back window, thinking about—who else?—Jonas and what an idiot she’d been.
Running away.
Nice. Smooth.
Seemed like she’d spent years running from him. No, not from him. From herself.
The knock came again, harder. She frowned. Okay, usually the delivery driver just knocked once and left her package on the doorstep. She hurried to the foyer and peeked out the peephole.
Not the delivery driver.
Jonas stood on the other side of the door. Her hand slapped against the wood. Oh, damn.
Her fingers were shaking a bit as she fumbled with the lock and the doorknob. Don’t screw this up again. Try to be cool. Confident. Act like you’re a woman who’s had lots of sex. Lots of great sex on desks and hell, everywhere!
He’d almost made her come on top of a desk. Her knees jiggled a little as she yanked open the door. “Jonas!” Her smile felt huge on her face.
He stared at her a moment, then blinked and shook his head.
Her smile dimmed a bit. Why was he looking at her like that? Snowflakes had fallen onto his battered black leather jacket, a jacket that made his golden skin look darker, his black windblown hair sexier.
Sexy. That was the word that always sprang to mind when she thought of Jonas. Jonas with the bright eyes and slightly crooked nose—courtesy of a bar fight he’d broken up when he’d been a rookie cop.
His lips—the top a little thin, the bottom perfectly bite-able—curved a bit.
She cleared her throat. “What are you…um, doing here?” The words were a little too high. Not the confident air she’d been going for.
His black brows rose. “Mind if I come in?” A puff of white appeared before his mouth. “Damn cold out here.”
Oh, yes, right. She opened the door wider. Jonas stomped his boots on her mat, then crossed the threshold, immediately making her feel that her doorway was too small. He was too big. He was—
He had a package in his hands. A small red box with a dark green bow. “I brought you something.”
He’d never given her a present before. Not once, and sometimes, it felt like she’d known him forever.
Known him, wanted him, had too much champagne and finally asked for her secret desire.
She pushed the door closed behind them. Her eyes were on the present. It looked small and innocent in his big, gloved hands. Of course, there was nothing innocent about him. She knew that.
“Don’t worry,” he told her, flashing a smile that revealed his perfect white teeth. “It’s not going to bite you.”
But I will. The words seemed to hang in the air as she stared at him. Christie gulped and stepped forward to take the present. “It’s…uh…not Christmas yet.” Not for another week. They’d had the party at Tate Toys last night because it had been Friday night. The perfect opportunity for a party because not many folks had to get up early the next day.
“Anything wrong with an early present between friends?” His gloved fingers brushed hers as she took the gift. A lick of heat seemed to shoot right through her body.
She was holding the present too tightly. “Is that what we are? Friends?” She tasted the word. Jonas had been on the cusp of her life for so long. When she’d transferred to Duke University, he and Daniel had already been roommates. Jonas had treated her like a kid sister, too. She’d been crazy about him. One look in those green eyes…
She shook the present. Didn’t hear anything.
Jonas shrugged out of his coat and hung it on the rack. His gloves hit the table. “We could be friends.” His head cocked to the right as he studied her. “We could be more.”
Lovers.
“Don’t crush the box,” he murmured and she realized her hold had turned into a death grip.
Her breath expelled slowly and her fingers relaxed a bit. Jonas turned away and headed into her den. He whistled lightly. “That’s some tree.”
A bit of the tension eased from her body and her smile came back. “Thanks. Daniel helped me get it inside.” The tree brushed her sixteen-foot ceiling. “It took me two days to decorate it but—”
“But you love Christmas, so you had one hell of a time, right?” His eyes were on her, seeming to see so much.
“Right.” Softly spoken.
“You’re the one who decorates Tate Toys every year, aren’t you?”
How did he—
“Daniel’s told me how much you love this time of year.” His gaze darted to her jingle bell sweater. “And it’s kinda…easy to see.”
She lifted the present. “I-I’ll just…put this under the tr—tree.” Dammit, she hated her nervous stutter. Just when she thought she’d had the thing under control, Jonas stared at her and—wham, it was back. She sucked in a breath and tried again, “I-I’ll just put this under the tree with the—”
“I’d rather you opened it now.”
Why did his voice sound like sex? Well, not like sex, but that rumble made her think of sex. Of sheets and darkness, of a strong body surrounding hers and of a growl telling her to—
“Actually,