A chill trickled down Kim’s spine, messing with the heat left over from her meeting with Monroe. Misplaced heat waves aside, the real question was whether she wanted to keep this job, and the answer was yes. No one wanted to find out how long the unemployment lines would be in December. Plus, she truly liked most of the people she worked with.

So...could she afford to allow Christmas to be a deal breaker, or was she willing to fight for what she wanted?

“A sexy dress and some shoes, huh?” she said.

Brenda nodded. “It’s a bit aggressive, but it’s been done for ages. Think Mata Hari.”

Kim tilted her head in thought.

“Uh-oh,” Brenda said, disappearing from behind the partition and appearing in the entrance to Kim’s cubicle. “I don’t think I like what I see in your eyes.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“You wouldn’t do anything stupid, right, like trying to seduce Monroe out of his title?” Brenda advanced. “You wouldn’t play the harassment card, if it came to that? Seduce him and then blow the whistle to get him out of the way? That would be a terrible plan, Kim. It would be desperate, and unlike you.”

Kim nodded. “In any case, I’m thinking I might have to get plastered before that meeting in the bar.”

“You don’t drink. You never drink.”

“Exactly.”

“Fine,” Brenda said doubtfully. “But if it goes all haywire, please leave me the red shoes in your will for when this is all over, and the comfy chair by the window in your apartment.”

Kim grabbed her purse and headed for the door. Brenda was right. Revenge wasn’t like her. Not even remotely. However, if Chaz Monroe continued to play the intimidation card, and if he proved himself to be another unreliable male adversary, she’d have to find the strength to enact Plan C. Char his ass.

“Cover for me, Bren,” she called over her shoulder. “I’m going shopping.”

“May the force of Mata Hari be with you,” Brenda called out conspiratorially as Kim headed for the door.

Three

Chaz had pegged the bar scene perfectly. Young people were expensively turned out. Women in chic attire carried neon martinis and threw air kisses. At thirty-two and in a sports coat, he felt like their slightly out-of-it older brother, though women eyed him up and down with avid interest and unspoken invitations in their eyes.

Half of these people probably worked for him in some capacity or another and didn’t yet recognize him by sight. By the end of the month, he would know each and every name on his payroll, and all ten of the building’s janitors. Just now, however, he needed to remain incognito and observe the scene while he waited. For her.

He chose a table in a dark corner and sat on a stool with his back to the wall and his eyes on the door.

“Big Brother is watching you,” he said beneath his breath.

He didn’t really like chic bars where the young and the restless gathered to prance and preen. He preferred quiet corners in coffee shops where actual conversation could take place. The bar would likely be neutral territory for Kim, though. There’d be no battle lines here, away from official turf. Nor would there be any one-on-one private time that might get him into trouble.

He ordered a draft beer from an auburn-haired server in a tight black dress, who had a small tattoo on one sleek upper arm. He kept his attention on the doorway Kim would soon walk through, wanting to witness her entrance and observe her for a minute before she saw him.

He had spent the last hour trying not to imagine what she would be like in action, and he now wondered which of the guys surrounding him might have dated her and known her intimately. The thought made him uncomfortable, as did the image of some other guy tasting the heat of her hot pink mouth.

He did know one thing for sure. He had put way too much emphasis on their brief meeting, and had given McKinley far too much credit as a femme fatale. Not long now, and he’d find out how ridiculous his fantasies had been, because nobody liked a diva who ruled from within the confines of a short, tight skirt, and a lot of people in this building liked Kim.

His beer arrived, along with a phone number scribbled on a napkin. Chaz looked around. A pretty brunette at another table raised her glass and smiled at him.

He smiled back.

Pocketing the napkin, he took a swig from his long-necked bottle and refocused on the door.

Business first.

Several people entered in a group, but Kim wasn’t among them. The noise decibel was rising quickly as the crowd swelled and empty glasses piled up. Chaz could barely hear himself think—which might have been a good thing in this instance, since thoughts turned to her again.

Would she work this crowd or ignore it?

Had someone else been waiting for her before this meeting? That appointment?

His stomach tightened when he thought about it. He was beginning to feel damp around the collar in spite of the cold shower.

With the bottle hoisted halfway to his mouth, Chaz suddenly paused, feeling Kim’s presence before he actually saw her.

Then there she was, at last, the sight of her like a dropkick to his underutilized libido.

Again.

For the third time that day, he absolutely could not take his eyes off her. Tonight, the reason was downright blatant. Kim McKinley was a carnal vision in an eye-popping red dress. Tight, short and silky, that dress pulsed with the word sex. Cut low enough at the neckline for a far too revealing peek at bare, glistening, ivory flesh, it caressed her body, hugging each curve.

Diva with a red dress on...

He stifled a chuckle as she moved through the crowd by the door like a tawny-haired hurricane. He wasn’t the only person who stared.

She had let down her hair. Golden strands gleamed in the darkened room, floating an inch or two below her chin and giving the impression that she possessed a halo. But it was a fact that no angel would dare to dress like that.

Chaz’s stomach twisted at the sight. But Kim wasn’t alone. Another woman accompanied her, as dark as Kim was fair. Points went to him for inviting Brenda Chang, who hopefully might already have knocked some sense into Kim about her future job description.

Another good gulp of his draft seemed to settle him as Chaz waited to see if McKinley would come over, or if she would expect him to bend in her direction. Her beautiful features were set. She didn’t smile.

When Kim finally sighted him with a gaze like a searchlight, Chaz did a quick head-shake and slapped his bottle down on the table. He stood up.

As she approached, his gaze traveled down her length, stopping at her ankles. She looked taller tonight because she was perched on dangerously high heels, the kind he’d imagined her wearing the first time he’d seen her. Shiny crimson stilettos.

Chaz whistled to himself. He couldn’t help it.

Had she read his mind that afternoon?

So you really do know how to make an entrance. Well, okay. You have my full attention.

He raised his bottle in acknowledgment of her presence, and ditched the urge to clap his hands at the show she was providing, sure the sexy clothes were meant for some lucky bastard’s sensory pleasure in taking them off. It was possible she had lied about not having a date.

“Mr. Monroe,” she said in greeting.

“Ms. McKinley.” Chaz gave her a nod.

The electrical current whizzing through the air between them from the distance of two feet felt strong enough to have burned the bar to the ground. He didn’t imagine that. Their chemistry was undeniable, at least on his end.

Fine hairs at the nape of his neck were stirring. Fire roared through his muscles, causing a twitch. These reactions were a further indication of their instantaneous attraction, and also a hint about being so close to a sin-coated challenge.

“I’ve brought someone you should meet,” she said in that seductive drawl. “This is Brenda Chang.”

Chaz held out a hand to Brenda, who took it, though her eyes avoided his.

“I’m happy to meet you in person, Brenda,” he said.

“Thanks for the invitation to join you,” Brenda returned.

“I heard that you two work closely together, and that you’re a good team,” he said.

“Yes, that’s true,” Brenda agreed.

She was an attractive young woman with porcelain skin, dark eyes and a slender body encased in a tasteful blue suit.

Gesturing to the table, Chaz said, “Care to sit down?”

Would Wonder Woman act on any suggestion he made? Quite surprisingly, she did. She slid sideways onto a stool and crossed her legs, placing the heel of one dagger-sharp stiletto just inches from his right calf and making Chaz ponder the idea of what those heels would feel like if they were in bed together. It was a thought he had vowed not to have tonight.

“So,” he began, once they all were in place around the little table. He avoided staring at the spot where Kim’s shapely knee disappeared beneath the colorful silk. “Thanks for coming.”

“Shall we get right to it?” she asked.

This, too, was unexpected. Chaz rallied with another nod.

“I believe you wanted to speak about the Christmas campaigns?” she said.

Brenda passed her pal a silent glance of interest.

“Yes,” Chaz replied. “I’ve read the contract from front to back. But first, would you like something to drink?”

“I could use some Chardonnay,” Brenda announced in a breathy outburst, smiling at him.

“Martini,” Kim said.

“Oh, boy,” Brenda muttered after hearing her friend’s drink order. She flashed Chaz another pretty smile.

Of course Kim wanted a martini, the drink of choice for the young, pretty people these days. Still, Chaz, for reasons he didn’t quite understand, had expected her order to be bottled water with a lemon wedge. He was a little disappointed to have been wrong about that as he flagged down the server.

“What kind of martini would you like?” he asked.

Oddly enough, the simple query seemed to stump her. She glanced to Brenda.

“You always like the appletinis here,” Brenda prompted.

“Yes. That’s what I’ll have,” Kim said. Turning to Chaz, she added, “Now, where were we?”

Was he wrong in his impression that she didn’t know what an appletini was, and that there was something going on between Kim and Brenda that caused Brenda to show concern? He was pretty sure that Brenda had just fed Kim a line about the drink order.

“I’m aware of your rather unusual contract,” he said. “What I’d like to do is ask politely that you ink it out. I’m hoping you can see this as a special favor to the agency and to our clients.”

“Do you mean the clients who would like to continue working with me?” she asked, stressing her point of being well liked by those accounts.

Chaz shrugged. Kim’s scarlet dress and her chilly vibe were at odds with each other, a dichotomy that did nothing to lessen the warmth searing through him each time she moved.

“A vice president has to oversee all accounts,” he said.

“Yes, you do,” she tossed back, emphasis on you.

“Being new, I’d like your help,” he said. “Maybe we can start small on the help, and see how it goes?”

“I’m all ears, Mr. Monroe, as to what you might require.” She did not glance at her watch, but added, “For the next ten minutes.”

“It’s Chaz. Please call me Chaz.”

He was peripherally aware of how Kim’s chest rose and fell laboriously with each new breath she took. Was that a sign of anger or anxiety? Outwardly, she looked calm enough. Cool, calm and collected. Yet she was electrically charged. He felt that charge pass through him. His heart beat a little faster.

“We’ve been asked to attend a special party for a potential new client, and I have volunteered to help make this an event. It’s a very last-minute request, so with Ms. Chang already inundated, I’d need your help,” he said.

He looked to Brenda, who passed the look on to Kim.

“Sorry.” Kim carefully folded her hands around the stem of her glass when it arrived. “If you mean helping with something right now, that’s impossible. I have the next two weeks off, starting tomorrow at noon.”

“I’d be willing to double your holiday bonus for the extra time and effort,” he said, applying a bit of preplanned pressure to see if money floated her boat. “We can talk about the clause afterward if you like.”

Brenda took a sip of her wine and continued to gaze at Kim over the rim of her glass. Brenda appeared to be nervous about being in the middle of this conversation, and had started inching her glass sideways on the table as if she and the glass might make a quick getaway the first chance she got.

Good for her, for noticing where she wasn’t needed. And to hell with the crowd. Chaz now wanted Kim all to himself. He wanted nothing more. They could hash this out, once and for all. If she remained stubborn, maybe they could arm wrestle a deal.

“I’m really sorry I can’t help,” Kim said, lush strands of gold brushing her face when she shook her head. “I’ve already made plans for my time off.”

Chaz was actually starting to enjoy this game. He had always been good at chess. He did wonder, though, how far she’d go...and how far he’d go to stop her.

“Any way you might break those plans?” he asked.

“I’m pretty sure I can’t at this late date.”

“If I say please?”

She sat motionless for a minute, and then began to turn her glass in circles on the table without taking a drink. Chaz didn’t fail to notice that she hadn’t so much as placed her lips on the glass since it had arrived.

“As a favor to a potential client, then,” Chaz said. “Not to me personally.”

Another beat of time passed while he awaited her response.

“Didn’t you just say that you read my contract?” she finally said with a subtle tone of disappointment underscoring her reply.

Chaz found himself fascinated with thoughts about how this would play out. He had said please, right? Surely she had to realize that this one decision could make or break the upward mobility of her career, at least with this agency.

He downed some beer and waited to see if she would explain herself.

“I truly am sorry,” she said seconds later. “I’d be happy to help out any other time, with any other holiday. Really, I would help now if my situation were different.”

“Different?” Chaz couldn’t wait to hear this. If she was seriously involved in a relationship with some guy, and had that kind of plans for the next week, he’d have heard it from the people feeding him office gossip that afternoon. According to Alice, his agency bloodhound, Kim was pretty much a free agent in the serious relationship department.

“I’m...” she began.

“It’s against her religion,” Brenda said for her, and immediately flushed pink for having spoken out of turn.

Kim squirmed. He saw it. In the process, her left arm brushed his. Chaz’s body responded with a jerk. The aftereffects of the surprise ignited a new and relatively irritating blaze of heat in his chest that robbed him of his next decent breath.

“Oh,” he said. “That’s what prevents you from working on all this holiday stuff?”

She recrossed her legs and blinked slowly. “Well...”

She didn’t finish her excuse. A lovely flush crept up her neck, presenting a very seductive picture, for sure. The best he’d seen in a long time. But right then he wanted badly to throw her over his knee and give her a good spanking. Bad little princess, he’d say. Why the white lies and the avoidance? Let’s get right to the truth. You could do this if you wanted to.

Or maybe he should just kiss her pouty mouth for all it was worth and see if that got a rise out of her. Maybe if they got that kiss out of the way, Kim might confess the real reasoning behind her ridiculous holiday reluctance.

On the other hand, she might slap his face and call it a night, and he’d be back to square one. Taking it further, she might take that walk, and take her clients with her.

Well, okay, there was a fine line between pushing her away and getting what he wanted, but he did owe her a shot at the title she coveted.

His inner musings on how this might go ceased abruptly when she leaned forward over the edge of the table. His eyes dipped to the sight of the dewy top of her rounded breasts and the fact that she wore nothing beneath the red dress. Nothing visible, anyway.

Although the sight doubled his heart rate, a thought occurred about this sudden closeness potentially being a purposeful move on her part to distract him, an enactment of the power of her all-too-obvious feminine wiles. Of which she had plenty.

Hell, maybe he just got turned on by the promise of a good fight. In his family, close as they were, fighting had become a sport.

The truth, though, was that he had grown tired of women who assumed they were owed something because of their looks. That aside, he had a short span of time to get this agency working better, and a Wonder Woman could help him do that.

Working this out would be the decent thing to do. The best outcome for everyone.

“Anyway, as I was saying, it’s a special event,” he continued. “If you’ll hear me out, I’ll explain.”

She had no immediate reply to that, and continued to absently fondle the fragile stem of her glass in a way that he found extremely appealing.

At the same time, he was nearing his limit on patience. He noticed Brenda looking at him intently, and that look served to clear his mind.

“I’ll find someone to help you,” Kim finally offered. “I can find someone who will do a good job and is an ace at spur-of-the-moment stuff.”

“Who would that person be?”

“Will you excuse me a minute?” Brenda broke in. “I have to, well, you know.” Her exit was abrupt.

Kim didn’t seem to notice her friend’s departure. She didn’t lean back or try to make her own escape.

“All right,” she said. “I’ll hear you out since I don’t seem to have much choice in the matter, and then suggest somebody to help you. What is this special project?”

Chaz tried really hard not to grin. Kim had just given in, and an inch was better than nothing.

“It’s a party. A Christmas party, and as much of an extravaganza as we can pull together this late. Nothing huge, really, and more indicative of a big family celebration. We’ll need decorated trees, live music and a couple elves.”

“Elves?” she repeated with a touch of sarcasm in her tone.

Chaz nodded. “Can’t have Christmas without elves. Then we’ll need packages. Large boxes, small boxes, all with big red bows. And snow.”

“Snow?” Kim offered up an expression of surprise that overrode her former skepticism about elves.

“Sure. We can bring some snow inside a building, can’t we? Aren’t there snow machines? We can bring in some of the real stuff on trays and carts for the buffet table, as well as ice sculptures.”

She winced, probably unwilling to tell him what an idiot he was for suggesting real snow inside a building. It likely cost her plenty to hold that chastisement in.

“We’re not party planners,” she said calmly. “You do know that we’re a respected advertising agency?”

Chaz couldn’t address that. He didn’t dare. This was a test. A silly one, true, but he had to make it sound as if he needed her help. He couldn’t say that it was his family’s party he’d invade with all those Christmasy things if Kim actually agreed. In the meantime, he’d try to find out what irked her about the holiday stuff. He’d use all the holiday terms to push her buttons.

“Candy canes,” he continued. “Mounds of them. Also anything and everything else that could make an indoor fantasy come true for the company and its top tier of stockholders.”

McKinley’s lush lashes closed over her eyes. Her hand stopped caressing the glass. She seemed to have stopped breathing.

“This must be a big deal,” she said at length.

“Indeed, it’s very big. For you.”

McKinley’s expression changed lightning fast. She sat upright on her stool, taking most of her deliciously woodsy scent with her.

Chaz’s grin dissolved. Had he accidentally put the wrong spin on that last remark, making it sound sexual? Hell, he hadn’t even thought about it, and sure as heck hadn’t meant it that way.

“It’s a potentially huge contract,” he rushed to say, thinking that if she would merely agree, this would be over. One little “yes” and she’d be on her way to the metaphorical Oval Office. She just had to be willing to circumvent that stubborn mind-set and get down to business.

She didn’t have to set one red-hot foot in his apartment. She didn’t have to breathe in his goddamned ear. Those were daydreams. Man stuff. Wishful thinking. Most men were wired with those kinds of thoughts. All she had to do was cave on one little point, encapsulated by a single paragraph on paper.

But again, and to her credit, Kim didn’t run away.

“Who is offering the contract?” she asked politely.

“I’m not at liberty to say. Not until you agree to help out.”

“I did mention that I’m on vacation next week?”

“I’ll give you a longer vacation at another time.”

“I can’t help you,” she declared. But contrary to sounding smug about this persistent refusal, Chaz heard in her voice something else. Sorrow? Wishfulness? A silent desire that she didn’t have to be so stubborn and inflexible?

He looked at her thoughtfully. “Are you really of a religion that shuns this holiday?”

She shook her head. “Irish. Completely. Three generations back.”

“Ah.” Chaz’s breath caught in his throat as one of her hands rested lightly on top of his hand on the table, flesh to naked flesh, and cool from her grip on the martini glass.

The urge to tug at his collar returned.

“I’d like to be honest with you.” As her eyes met his, Chaz couldn’t help but feel as if he were drowning. The look in her eyes made the crowd around them disappear.

“I’d appreciate it if you would,” he said, slightly shaken by the intimacy of her touch and her sudden change of expression. Truly, it wasn’t a normal occurrence for him to be affected by the antics of a woman. He wasn’t sex starved. He didn’t need to count on Kim for those fantasies when the pretty brunette at the next table continuously looked his way.

“It would be better for me if you didn’t pressure me into this,” she told him in a carefully modulated tone that deepened her accent.

“Explain, and maybe I won’t. I am human, you know.”

When she frowned, the delicate skin around her eyes creased.

“I have a problem,” she said.

Her fingers moved on his as if trying to stress a point he didn’t see. Chaz found himself listening especially diligently for whatever excuse she’d come up with next. He could hardly wait to hear what she had to say.

She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue, a provocative, erotic action.

“It’s embarrassing to speak of, so I don’t,” she began. “If you were to fire me because of sharing this very personal confidence, I don’t know what I’d do.”

She hadn’t removed her hand from his. His gaze lingered on her mouth.

“I have a problem with Christmas.” As she spoke, earrings buried somewhere in her fair blond hair tinkled with a sound like stardust falling.

“It’s not the holiday itself that bothers me,” she went on. “An objection to the commercialism of Christmas would be funny in our line of business, wouldn’t it?”

Kim’s wan smile lifted the edges of her lips. “That’s not the source of my problems.”

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