Thrill Seeker (Sinful in Seattle Book 1) by Taryn Quinn (9)

“If you don’t get out on that dance floor, I’m going to kick your ass.”

“I’m going, I’m going.” I tugged at my short red velvet skirt. Mel had convinced me to schlep all the way to Brooklyn to go to this club, the least I could do was get my dance on. I missed it. Working seventy hour weeks had killed any extracurricular activities in my life. Starting my own company was worth it, dammit.

There’d been a time when a club had been my favorite outlet. I could lose myself in the colors, the music, the anonymity of it all. This place—Purgatory—lived up to its name in every way. It was in between in all ways that mattered. Depending on the day, the center of the huge building could be a dance club or concert venue. Outside was a sidewalk cafe with a garden straight out of England.

I could let the wilder side of me free.

I didn’t have to be Kandy Kane here, with all that sugary name implied. Most of the time I loved it. Hell, I made my career around my name.

Here, I was just Kay.

I didn’t have to make decisions or give orders.

I could feel a man’s hands on my skin without the promise of anything more.

The lights flared, then dimmed. A wash of purple and red swirled over the crowd turning everyone the same hue—cool and hot at the same time. The lights and the dancers pulsed as the low beat of the song ebbed and flowed.

I felt an answering echo in my lower belly.

Bad sign.

“There she is.”

I threw a narrow-eyed-glare at my best friend and assistant. She knew me far too well. “One dance.”

Her glossy red lips lifted at one corner before she wrapped her lips around her straw. “Sure. I’ll be here, drinking my courage.”

“And you expect me to just go on out there?”

“Yes. Go let loose.”

I flicked my heavily curled hair over my shoulder and took a deep breath. It was just like riding a bike.

I glided into the crush of people. Instinct took over as the music infused into the marrow of my bones. There was no expectation. No one knew me. So I let go. The watery undertones of the song urged my hips into soft, fluid circles. This was exactly what I needed. As usual, Mel had been right.

I found my spot in the center of the crush of people. I ignored the bump of strangers, and the dancers who thought they were far more talented than they were. I let my gaze drift to the whirling lights above me as the tension in my shoulders melted away.

My body became one with the underlying beat of the song. The heartbeat. I could find it in any piece of music. A Christmas carol, a hymn, a rap song, a country tune—it didn’t matter. There was always heart to a good song.

Once I found it, everything else fell into place.

I slipped my fingers into my hair and let the dreamy music take me away. Clubs often extended the song with remixes and I chased the rhythm. My breath raced as the song built up and spun out.

Eyes were on me.

I ignored them.

Right now, I didn’t want small talk, or someone grinding on my ass.

I just wanted this. The only release I could find.

The song changed to a big hit that had been reduced to a shadow of its original flavor. One that I didn’t want to dance to. I raised my arms to shimmy my way through the crowd when a large hand slid along my waist. The pads of a man’s fingers skimmed along the raised hem of my shirt.

Being in a club meant hands on you whether you wanted them or not. I’d broken my share of fingers when I wasn’t in the mood. I lowered my hand to do just that when the guy invaded my space.

Strong thighs aligned with mine as he pushed me back toward the center of the floor.

My eyes flashed wide, met eyes the color of blue flame. An intense, unflinching stare. There was no guesswork, no teasing—just pure heat. His fingers slid around to the small of my back. His hips moved in time to my own.

He didn’t hold me tight. Just enough to keep me close.

I tipped my head, curiosity riding me harder than annoyance. I shouldn’t have allowed it. He was too big, too overwhelming to be the kind of man I normally danced with. I preferred fun and smiles. No harm, no foul kind of guys who didn’t give me trouble when the dancing was over.

Not like this man.

His broad shoulders were encased in a fitted black shirt with another collared shirt under it in the same jet color. In fact, he was dressed in black from head to toe.

He stroked his thumb under my chin to bring my attention back up to his eyes. He didn’t speak. Not that either of us could be heard over the music, but he didn’t even bother with the pretense.

Just those ridiculous blue eyes burning into mine.

The song faded into one that I loved. Watery strings with a staccato lyric to start before the drums and crashing tones filled the space. His hand grew bolder, coasted down my back to my ass, and his knee slid between my thighs.

Our gazes didn’t waver.

Our bodies melted together in a sexual dance that should have been far too provocative for strangers. My heart raced and a wash of heat rushed from my thighs up to my sex. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had such a heady reaction to anyone, let alone a man who didn’t know my name any more than I did his.

Did he do this often? I knew I sure as hell didn’t.

I swallowed down a sudden flood of panic. I glanced around us. No one was paying attention to us.

His thumb was at my chin again, dragging my gaze back to his.

“Right here,” he mouthed.

I swallowed and tried to step back. He brought his hand to my hip and caught my hand with his other, lacing our fingers. His skin was smooth with a ridge of calluses along his palm. The beat of the song was harder, darker than the previous ones played.

I moved into him this time.

Maybe I didn’t want the link broken. Just for a few more moments.

The tingle along my thighs grew with each brush of his. The roll of his hips in time to the song changed the simple buzz to a surge. My nipples throbbed and my thighs were soaked under my skirt. Arousal slammed into me. Panic licked along my lower spine and activated my flight response.

Dancing was one thing. More?

No, that wasn’t me.

I twisted away and pushed my way through the dancers. The murmur of pissed off people doubled. The next song was a Britany remix that had the room pulsing again.

My heart crashed in my ears as I finally broke free from the dance floor.

Don’t do it. Don’t turn around.

But I couldn’t help myself. I glanced back to see if my mystery man was following, but he was not.

He’d probably moved on to the next girl.

So stupid. He’d probably lost interest the moment I’d pulled back like a frightened virgin.

Worldly. Yeah, that was me.

I might know how to find my inner dancing queen, but the vixen half of me had yet to figure out how to play.

I placed my hand over my midriff. Everything was still buzzing and fluttering madly. I tugged my shirt down, then smoothed my skirt. Disappointment crashed into self-preservation.

Besides, there was no way I could test the waters with someone like that. I was better off with Jason. He was one of my temps at work. He’d been asking me out for the last three weeks. He was sweet and would undoubtedly take his time—and surely let me take mine.

I’d been putting him off because he was my employee, but the season was officially over tomorrow. At least the Christmas season, which pretty much floated most of my business for the year. Maybe if he asked me again, I’d have to just say yes for once.

Eyes the color of blue flame flashed into my head. Intense eyes. Hooded eyes with slashing cheekbones, giving his face arresting angles.

A man like that didn’t seem nice. He’d take and demand.

Damn if that didn’t give me a serious pause.

No. I shook my head firmly—not for me. The Jasons of the world were more my speed. My fingernails dug into my palms. I couldn’t even pull Jason’s face up at the moment. Kind brown eyes…maybe? Or were they hazel?

I straightened my shoulders and headed for the bar.

Those damn blue eyes were sticking. I had little doubt they’d follow me into my dreams tonight. Time to find Mel and get the hell out of here. I had a huge day ahead of me tomorrow anyway.

I could trust work.

I understood work.

Just one more day to get through.

“Just one more day. One more party.” I’d been saying that same phrase since last night. I swapped out my battered sneakers for my suede ankle boots. One more party and I could curl into my bed and sleep for eighteen blissful hours.

“Kay!”

I fluffed the cowl neck of my sweater, ignoring the crazy person calling my name.

Nothing was going to ruin today.

I pulled out my lipstick and glossed the candy cane red across my lips.

“Kandy Noel Kane, you answer me right now!”

I winced. Yeah, that wasn’t good. Was there still time for me to duck out the fire escape?

Mel pounded on the heavy door. “Kan—”

I swung open the door. “Go down a few decibels maybe?”

She pushed me aside, then peeked back into the hallway before slamming the doors. “I can’t. I’m going to hyperventilate.” She plastered herself against the door.

I twisted a fat curl from my ponytail around my finger. Mel was prone to histrionics, but there was a whole lot of panic going on in her big brown eyes.

“The ice sculpture is here, the presents for the charity raffle are under the tree, I finished the place settings myself not even an hour ago. I watched the chef make his specialty.” For the entire two hours. This was my biggest party of the season. “Nothing is going to go wrong.”

“Yeah well, we don’t have a Santa.”

I blinked at her. The room sort of fuzzed out of focus and a soundtrack of waves and screams crashed in my head. “I’m sorry?”

“No—capital N, capital O—there is no Santa in the building.”

“But Jason said he was going to be here.” It was a two-fer. I was going to make sure we had a super sweet, super jolly Santa for the party and maybe let Jason ask me out one more time.

I was pretty sure I was going to say yes.

Sort of.

Maybe.

I slumped into the black leather U-shaped chair across from the massive mahogany desk. The simple glass name plaque said Lincoln Murdock, CEO. I focused in on the name. The same man who had sent me the terse email four weeks ago.

The email that had changed my life.

I’d worked with his assistant after that email, but I’d never forgotten the name. Especially after a little research had me kicking up my heels yabba-dabba-doo-style.

My tunnel vision slowly widened and Mel’s babbling came into focus.

I held up my hand. Mel pressed her cherry red lips together, the bow at the top of her lips becoming more pronounced as she tried to contain her crazy. It was difficult, I knew. “What happened to Jason?”

“I just told you.” She gave an exasperated growl.

“I’m sorry. I went deaf and dumb there for a moment, because I’m sure you couldn’t have said my most reliable Santa was not showing up for the last freaking party of the year. You know, two days before Christmas. And the party where I’m paying said Santa double time.” Because we’d had two parties a day for most of the week. I pushed a shaky hand through my hair. “So please tell me why he’s not here?”

“He eloped with the elf, Michelle.”

“He what?” He’d asked me out three days ago.

“It was a whirlwind or some such nonsense. They’d done six parties together and lightning struck or something stupid. I get lust—but eloping? What is wrong with people?”

“They couldn’t elope tomorrow?”

“It was more romantic to get married on Christmas Eve.”

“That’s tomorrow.” I jammed my knuckle into my mouth to stop the insanity-tinged howl. I could feel it coming from somewhere south of my toes. Maybe the hell that was my life.

It was Christmas, goddammit. Where was their Christmas spirit?

“Evidently, they were going for a beachy wedding on Christmas Eve thing in Hawaii.”

And here I was worried I was underpaying my people. I certainly couldn’t afford to go to Hawaii. I could get away with a pamphlet and time-share lecture maybe.

Not that it mattered. I didn’t want to go to Hawaii. I wanted my freaking Santa here at my last party of the year.

Not just any party. Murdock Home Stores, the largest department store in New York City besides Macy’s, had hired me to do their Christmas party this year. This would put my party planning company Kandy Kane Dreams on the map. Nothing could screw this up.

We’d been squeaking out each month by the skin of my teeth—and savings account—for months to get to November. The Christmas season usually put me and my people in the black for at least four months. This party had guaranteed the better part of the next year.

But not if I didn’t have a Santa for the forty-plus children who would be descending on the party in a little less than an hour. I’d be ruined faster than I’d made it.

Okay. I could make this work.

I had no choice.

Blowing my bangs out of my eyes, I sighed. “Wait, does this mean I don’t have an elf either?”

“That would be correct.”

I closed my eyes. Breathe. In and out. I could do this.

I reached down next to me and pulled my bag onto my lap, then reached for the little black zipper pouch I kept for emergencies.

“This is why you’re my goddess.” Mel’s eyes were locked on my hands.

I paused with the striped tights in my hand. “Because I keep elf stockings in my purse?”

“No. Because you always have a Plan B.” Mel tugged out the rubber band at the end of her braid. “Now, we just have to get you all elf-ified.”

“You know, I started my own business so I wouldn’t have to be an elf anymore.” I kicked off my red, suede ankle boots. “And we still need a Santa.”

Mel dug out her makeup. “One disaster at a time.”

“You have to make an appearance.” Parker folded his arms and leaned back in his wide, black leather chair. He was in a charcoal vest with a tasteful red noose around his neck. A white dress shirt—perfectly pressed and probably starched—was buttoned all the way up, and his jacket hung off the back of his chair.

The perfect corporate face of our company, that was my brother.

I was the one who ended up in the warehouses when there was trouble. I liked to be more hands-on with the company. Parker preferred his numbers and spreadsheets. Handily, he was the CFO by default. Which was fine by me. I’d rather get out of the office when I could.

As it was my office was barely used. Have laptop and iPad, would travel. Again, fine by me. I preferred to be in a monkey suit as little as possible. Honestly, I wouldn’t even be the CEO if my old man hadn’t passed away. Stress and the eternal butt spread of sitting at a desk all day had done him in.

That was not happening to me.

I eased to the edge of the wingback chair. My brother’s office looked more like a library than a place of business. A wall of books was all I could see beyond his large shoulders. He might be a desk jockey, but he made time for the state-of-the-art gym on the premises.

I didn’t care if we had a superior view of Manhattan’s Sixth Ave, I didn’t want to run on a treadmill. I’d pound the miles out on the pavement until there were icicles hanging off my damn nose. Or, for the next few days, whatever hiking trails I managed to climb.

Anything to push the blackness out of my brain.

“I have to get to the airport.”

“Your cabin upstate will still be there in a few hours, Lincoln.”

I curled my fingers over the leather arms. I knew my duties as the head of the family, and the head of our fucking company. The annual Christmas party had once been my favorite part of the year.

Once.

For the last three years, I’d escaped after saying Merry Christmas with a wave and a smile. Our employees didn’t give a rat’s ass if I walked around the room and glad-handed everyone while carrying a glass of spiked eggnog.

No, the only people who actually cared were my mother and Parker. Which was the only reason why I wasn’t in the air right now. I made an appearance, slapped on a tight smile, then got the fuck out.

I stood and pushed up the sleeves of my black cashmere sweater. No suit for me. I had a date with a bottle of whiskey and the lake for the next three days. It was Casual Fuck You Christmas for this Murdock.

A brisk knock on the door saved me from another lecture from my brother. I crossed to the door and opened it. The first thing I noticed was the short green skirt and striped red and white stockings on endless legs, ending in sky high boots in a deeper red shade. Boots that definitely did not make me think of elves even if the rest of her outfit screamed Santa’s helper.

I immediately dragged my eyes up to her face. Too many years of sexual harassment protocols had been burned into my brain.

“Oh God.” Her summer blue eyes were huge and her blond hair had been plaited into girlish braids, but there was no mistaking that face. Or that body.

I saw the realization in her face as well.

I shoved my hands into my pockets. “So is this why you ran off last night? Had to get back to Santa’s workshop?”

Parker crowded behind me. “Jesus, Lincoln.” He clamped a hand on my shoulder and dragged me out of the doorway. His glowering face was one I was used to. “Can I help you?”

“Hello.” She blinked and swallowed before tucking a flyaway curl into her braid. “Sorry to bother you.” Her gaze darted to me, then back to my brother. “I’m looking for Mr. Murdock.”

I shifted my gaze to another woman in the hallway. Brunette, attractive, super pale. I was pretty sure it wasn’t because of the New York winter. She was fidgeting and kept crossing and re-crossing her arms across her middle. She, however, was not dressed like a North Pole reject. Instead she had on black pants and a white shirt with a little candy cane on the pocket.

“I’m Parker Murdock.”

“Right.” Her gaze kept tripping to me, then back to my brother. “Of course you are. That’s the name on the door.” She blew out a breath and straightened her shoulders. “I’m really sorry to bother you. The only other person I’ve talked to is Lincoln Murdock.”

She sure as hell hadn’t. I would have remembered that smoky voice made for firelight, crisp sheets, and screaming my name until she was hoarse. “That would be me.” I opened the door wider to stand beside my brother.

She paled until her freckles and overly made up cheeks practically glowed. “I was really hoping to speak with Jordan, but I can’t seem to get a hold of him.” She was almost as tall as I was, and yet again looking to bolt. Just like last night.

The woman from Purgatory. In my office, right now. Christ on a crutch.

I didn’t even know what, or who, I was looking for when I went into the club. I knew I wanted to forget—it was about all I cared about doing this time of year. Finding a warm body to lose myself in.

She’d fit the bill in every damn way. She was built like a woman should be—all curves and fiery grace. She didn’t care who had been watching her. She’d been lost in the music, then lost in me. At least for the span of two songs. Nearly as tall as me with an ass that fit against me like she’d been created for my body.

I’d never been so hot, so fast, for a woman in my life.

I was damn glad I was wearing all black right now so my semi didn’t fucking show.

“Jordan—the assistant of the Mr. Murdock you’re looking for—is probably already down at the party.” Parker gave me a hard stare, then turned his attention back to the woman in the doorway. “Can we help you with something?”

She lifted her chin and some of the color came back into her cheeks. “I’m from Kandy Kane Dreams.”

I huffed out a laugh. If the stockings fit.

Her eyes narrowed. “We’re your party planning company.” She concentrated on Parker’s face, her demeanor as professional as possible while dressed like an elf who belonged in Santa’s Fuckshop, a porn parody. “I’ve been working with Jordan on the plans for today’s party.”

Parker glanced at me.

I shrugged. I vaguely remember picking a company from the list my executive assistant gave me. The initial email to hire always went better if it was from me. Less haggling as well.

One thing my old man had taught me that had actually been worth remembering.

I pulled out my phone.

Parker crossed the room and unhooked his suit coat from the back of his chair. “Like he’ll hear his phone at the party.”

“He always answers my texts.”

Jordan might have been a pain in the ass most of the time, but he was a damn good assistant. And I was tired of dealing with the kind of female executive assistants I had previously employed. The first two had worn see-through blouses on the first week, for fuck’s sake.

The third—a battle-ax with steel wool for hair—had tried to keep me regimented on a schedule that I’d never be able to survive. Then I’d found Jordan. He knew what to do before I asked him, didn’t give two fucks if I wore an Armani suit or jeans, and only gave me enough shit to make things interesting.

Oh, and he always answered my texts. No matter what time I sent one.

“I tried texting first,” Hot Elf said.

I glanced up from my phone to the woman who’d left me with a serious case of blue balls for the better part of a day. “You’re not me.”

“Very helpful,” Parker said out of the side of his mouth.

I shrugged. “If I go down to that party, I’ll be waving and leaving on my way out.”

Parker gave a long-suffering sigh. “Let me see if I can find him.”

“I’ll go with him.” The woman behind her piped up.

“No,” Hot Elf said quickly.

Parker held up a hand. “No, you both can stay here. I’ll be faster on my own.”

“But…” Hot Elf’s eyes widened.

Assistant Candy Cane came forward. “I’m going.” She swallowed and if she were a guy, I’d say she’d just nutted up. What was the female equivalent? Tits up? No, that probably wasn’t right. Hmm.

“It’s very important. And perhaps we can get things solved while we’re downstairs.”

Parker frowned, but didn’t ask any further questions. Very much my brother. If it didn’t have to do with his department, he really didn’t want to know.

“Lincoln seems unprofessional, but I can assure you he’s generally quite helpful, Miss—I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

“Miss Kane.”

Of course, it was. I tipped my head back. The name was far too coincidental not to mean she was the proprietress in some way.

Parker cleared his throat. “Right. Miss Kane. I’ll be right back.”

“Mr. Murdock, I really—” Hot Elf, err…Miss Kane sighed as my brother and her assistant hustled off.

“Sorry about that.” I backed up. “Come on in. I won’t bite.” I grinned. “Today anyway.”

She took a step back into the hallway. “I’ll just wait for Jordan.”

“Since Jordan works for me, I think that means I get to know what the big secret is too.”

“I wouldn’t want to bother you with it. You’re getting ready to leave, right? That’s what you just mentioned.”

“Christmas parties aren’t exactly my scene.” I glanced down at her outfit. “Then again none of the elves at our previous Christmas parties looked quite like you.”

She flushed. “This is not my usual attire.” She nibbled on her lower lip, then huffed out a breath. “This sucks.”

I grinned. “It doesn’t have to. And neither do you—at least not right away.”

Her lake blue eyes widened again. I wondered if she’d make the same face while on her knees in front of me. Or would it be that slow, slumberous look from the dance floor?

“Look, I understand last night was…something else.” She tugged at her skirt. It wasn’t especially short, but her legs were ridiculously long. “That was then, and this is definitely a whole different kind of now.”

“Last night you wore those same boots, but today’s stripes on your stockings definitely make for an entirely new look.”

She stepped forward, gesturing to indicate we should go into the office. I obliged her. It made sense. She didn’t want our conversation to be overheard.

“You remember what I was wearing?” She shook her head. “Never mind. That doesn’t matter. The problem here is that I have forty kids—”

“Forty-seven.”

She pressed her bright red lips together for a moment and took a measured breath. It was quite fascinating, really. I was pretty sure she was a moment away from blowing up at me. Maybe even taking a swing. Not entirely sure I wouldn’t enjoy seeing her give it a try. How far could I push her?

Hmm.

I did like a challenge.

“So tell me, Miss Kane, is that seriously your name?”

She pressed her glossy red lips together so tightly a white line glowed from her skin.

“I’m going to take that as a yes. And that you get asked that a lot. I don’t like being boring, so I’ll just move on.”

“I appreciate that.”

“Based on the name of your company, and your last name—unless it’s a family thing, which I understand completely—I’m guessing the elf costume isn’t your usual attire?”

Her nostrils flared.

I grinned. Yeah, she really wanted to tell me off. “By my powers of deduction, and being an intuitive man—”

She let out a snort. Her lips did that white line thing again. I much preferred the lush red. She’d worn the same shade last night and I’d dreamed of kissing the red away. I’d also dreamed of my cock wearing that same shade when she took me in her mouth. I wasn’t picky.

Of course, that was a dream and my reality was a little trickier.

I raised a brow. “As I was saying, being an intuitive man, and catching the scent of panic in the air, I’m betting you’re about to give me some bad news.”

“My Santa eloped with my elf.”

It was my turn to press my lips together. “Of all the scenarios in my head, that wasn’t one of them.”

“Welcome to my life. And now there are forty-seven kids arriving at your annual party, with no Santa.”

“You don’t have a backup?”

She tilted her head. “You do realize it’s the twenty-third of December at approximately four in the afternoon.”

“Contingencies always need to be made, Miss Kane.”

“Yes, well this is my final party of the season. And I’ve had two parties a day for the last ten days. I’m all out of Santas and contingencies. Not to mention I normally don’t have to worry about this particular Santa.”

“Had him in your pocket?” When she blanched, I laughed. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“No,” she said stiffly. “He was simply my most requested Santa. He’s very good with children, as well as adults.”

“And now, really good with elves. Just how good?”

“Mr. Murdock, I don’t believe that’s an appropriate question.”

“Maybe. But the question’s already out there.”

“I do not fraternize with my employees. He was simply very good at his job. I chose him because I thought I could count on him. And now…”

“Now, no Santa and you’re filling in as the elf.”

She curled her fingers into a fist. “Yes.”

This conversation was so ridiculous, I couldn’t help but laugh. “And you think my assistant is going to find you a Santa?”

“I was hoping he might have an idea of who to ask. You’re a department store. Perhaps you have a Santa?”

“We do. From the first of the month through the twentieth. After that, the store is simply too busy to support a Santa. People are rushing around to find gifts, not taking snapshots with babies and puppies.”

“You do pictures with puppies?” She waved her hand. “Never mind. Not the point.” She swallowed thickly. “I’ve called every contact I have. I offered double their normal salary. Even triple. Because I know that part of my contract was to supply food and entertainment—aka Santa—for the party.”

“And if you default your contract, we don’t have to pay you.”

Her other hand curled into a fist. “Yes.”

I grinned again. All my teeth must have been out like a shark by the way she paled. “Works for me.”

She lifted her chin. “This contract will see that all my employees will be paid through the summer, Mr. Murdock.”

“Guess you should have had a contingency plan for that Santa, huh?”

“Believe me, I won’t make the same mistake again.”

“Doesn’t help me or my employees, now does it?”

“And yet, you’re smiling like a—”

I closed the door and leaned against it, crossing my arms. “Don’t censor yourself on my account.”

Her eyes darted to the door, then to me.

“My brother will return momentarily. Perhaps there will be a Hail Mary in there for you. Except I know my brother and my assistant. Jordan shudders at the idea of sticky kid fingers. Pretty sure you’re not going to find a Santa in him.”

“He just has to pass out gifts. Surely he could do that. If not him, perhaps you—I mean we…” She growled. “Me. I could speak with a few of your employees to see who would like to earn a nice bonus for an hour’s work?”

“My employees are here to have a good time, Miss Kane. They are not here to work.”

She twisted her fingers. “I would wear the Santa suit if I could get away with it.” She scrubbed her palm against her skirt. “You know what? I could probably do it. I’ll just send Mel back to my headquarters for one of the smaller suits. I can make this work.” She pulled out her phone and paced the length of my brother’s office.

There was no way I should be attracted to a woman dressed like she was a cross between an elf and a man’s wet dream. I was going to fantasize about her endless legs wrapped around my damn neck for days.

Just what I needed when I went to my cabin.

It was in the middle of nowhere. I could possibly find someone to fill the hours with in the small ski resort town, but I generally didn’t bother.

Maybe I needed to pick up another bottle of Bushmills on my way out of town.

I dropped into my brother’s large executive chair behind his desk and swung from side to side as Miss Kane wore a tread into the Aubusson rug. She was tenacious, I had to give her that. She made three phone calls before wrapping her hand around her cell phone and tapping it to her forehead in frustration.

She checked the slim gold watch on her wrist and tipped her head back.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. I checked the readout. Jordan.

Her phone made a similar pulse. Her face relaxed. “Thank God.”

I checked my message.

Jordan: You know I don’t play Santa right? Not even for Gigi Hadid.

I laughed.

“What? Did Jordan find someone?” She rushed over to my brother’s desk.

“Didn’t you just get a text too?”

“Yes. He just said he was coming upstairs to speak with me.”

“Hate to break it to you, but there’s no Santa coming to save you.” My phone buzzed along the desk. I lifted it and my smile slid away.

Parker: You still have the Santa suit don’t you?

No way was I putting that on.

Hell no.

Fuck no.

She twisted her fingers. “What? Is there news?”

Those damn blue eyes. Fuck.

No.

Absolutely not. I had a flight to catch to a cabin that didn’t have a stitch of Christmas attached to it. I was out of here.

“I’ll do anything. Pay whatever I have in my savings account to get someone to be my Santa.”

“Anything?”

She nodded. “Anything.”

My phone pulsed again.

Parker: I know you have that suit. Don’t be an asshole.

Once upon a time I’d have gladly donned my suit. Not now. Not even for a pair of legs up to her damn neck. There was no way in hell.

She put her palms on the desk and leaned into me. “Pride has left the building, Mr. Murdock. I need a Santa to save my company and this party.”

My spine heated.

There was nothing sexy about the bulky sweater she was wearing. Save for the fact that she had a belt cinched around her narrow waist which emphasized her curves. The same curves that had made me insane the night before, and were doing a really good job of keeping me in the same state right now.

I steepled my fingers together. “What would you say if I said I have a Santa suit in the building?”

“Would it fit me?”

I raised one brow. “Who would be your helper elf?”

“Mel. I’m sure I…” She swallowed. “I can make it work.”

“The suit is cut to fit me.”

Her eyes widened. “What? Why?”

“That is not a story we’re going to get into. Suffice it to say, I don’t wear the suit for anyone.”

Her eyebrows snapped down. “Not even for those kids downstairs?”

“Not my problem.”

She stood up straight. “That’s unconscionable.”

“I don’t do Christmas, Miss Kane. Not even when you give me that look.”

“What do you mean you ‘don’t do Christmas’?”

I stood up and circled the desk to stand in front of her. “Call me Scrooge. I’m okay with it.”

“But there’s innocent children who believe in Santa. They believe that someone is out there to—”

“Give them gifts? Yeah, I know. I see the greed and the tantrums in my store. Yesterday, I watched a man punch out another man just to get the last drone in our display. Christmas spirit is everywhere.”

“What happened to you?” she whispered.

I tucked my thumbs into the belt loops of my jeans. “Not relevant.”

“It’s very relevant. Surely there’s some way for us to come to a compromise.”

“You don’t have anything to offer.”

“Nothing?”

The innocent hope in her expression didn’t help the precarious state of my libido. I wanted to bend her over my brother’s desk. But exceptional pussy wasn’t enough to make me face all that laughter and light. My cock’s reaction to her certainly seemed to state otherwise, but I was not ruled by my dick.

Maybe if I lost myself in her sweet body for a few days I’d even out enough to get through the holiday. But a few hours wouldn’t suffice.

Not if I had to put on that damn Santa suit.

“Not sure you’re prepared to put that sort of chip on the table, Miss Kane.” My voice was husky and low to my own ears. The flush in her cheeks made my cock throb.

I watched the realization hit her.

She stumbled back a step.

I caught her before she tripped on the edge of the rug. Her sweater was soft over her narrow back. She gripped the front of my shirt.

“Just what would you do to get me to play Santa, Miss Kane?”