All She Wants for Christmas

She wondered about the changes Clay had referred to and the loyalty Jensen thought he was trying to buy. Did some employees disapprove of the company’s “take-no-prisoners” attitude? Was the party an attempt to bribe his own people?

Only hours before, Holly might have thought so, but now denial rose inside her. She’d seen the respect his employees showed. Respect money couldn’t buy. And even though she couldn’t forget the heartbreak and humiliation written on the old man’s face when he accused Clay of destroying his family’s company, she no longer knew what to believe.

Clay spun her once more beneath the chandelier, and her breath caught as his muscular thighs brushed against hers. The unspoken awareness in his eyes left her feeling weak. Her knees nearly buckled, and her hand tightened on his shoulder.

She knew what she wanted to believe, but she’d put her faith in people before only to be let down. Mark was the latest in a list of disappointments that went back as far as she could remember.

Unbidden, a memory came to mind of the Parkers, smiling at her. “We’ve got a big house and a nice yard where our dog loves to play. There are plenty of kids in our neighborhood you can make friends with. We can’t wait for you to come live with us.”

She’d been five at the time, young enough to still care about things like yards and dogs and kids to play with, but most of all she’d wanted a family, and the Parkers were supposed to be hers. Everyone had promised. The Parkers, her caseworker, her foster family at the time. And she’d believed them, but in the end, the most important lesson learned was that promises, not rules, were made to be broken.

As the music faded away, Holly stepped out of Clay’s arms and pulled her hand from his to applaud the musicians. It was an excuse to reclaim some much-needed distance. His knowing gaze called her on her cowardice, but saving face wasn’t nearly as important as protecting her heart.

Guiding her off the dance floor, Clay stopped at the dessert table. “Here, you have to try this.” He loaded a plate for the two of them, cut off a piece of cheesecake, and held out the fork. “Marie went to great lengths to save these from certain frostbite.”

Holly leaned forward to take a bite. Strawberries topped the dessert, the sweet taste combining with the rich, creamy, melt-in-your-mouth filling. Pulling back, she found Clay watching closely. Her tongue streaked out to catch a stray crumb, and his eyes darkened with undisguised desire. Her skin tingled from that heated look, anticipating his touch. When he brushed his thumb against the corner of her mouth, she almost groaned in longing.

His voice hoarse, he asked, “How was it?”

“It—it was delicious.”

Clay cupped her jaw, but the intensity in his gaze held her motionless. Alarm bells rang, the warning drowned out by her pounding heartbeat, as he bent his head and kissed her. The ballroom faded away until she was aware only of his fingers curving over her jaw and his mouth, warm and persuasive, against her own. Better than cheesecake, better than champagne, better than anything she could imagine. She wanted nothing more than for the kiss to go on and on….

Instead, as Clay drew back, she reluctantly opened her eyes, focusing on his handsome face, backlit by the winking chandelier.

“I have to agree,” he murmured. “Delicious.”

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