Kitty hummed along with Mariah Carey, rocking out to what she wanted for Christmas, as she took photos of her desk and reception area for the website. Her desk was wrapped in candy cane holiday paper, and there were snowflakes and ornaments hanging from the ceiling. In the corner of the small waiting room stood a Christmas tree, decked out with white lights and gold ornaments.

Today her boss was coming in. Her gorgeous, richer-than-sin boss. The man she had a huge crush on.

Logan Erickson rocked her socks and undies right off. But unfortunately, he had been distant since their brief encounter under the mistletoe last Christmas, at the big launch of the Mystique line of jewelry, showcased at Tiffany’s. She had put the gala together with the help of Tiffany’s staff, and Kitty and Logan flew to New York City for it. Everything had been going great, the evening almost done, and then…there was the mistletoe.

Not that it was her fault. She hadn’t been standing under it on purpose. As far as she knew, he kissed her to ditch his date, because after the first kiss, he moved in and kissed her again, thoroughly. When it was over, he looked over her head. Kitty had turned around, saw the redhead in the electric-blue, barely there Michael Kors dress going off in a huff, and grinned conspiratorially up into Logan’s face.

He’d brushed his thumb across her cheek, then across her lips, and she was caught. Completely and totally. Wet panties, tight nipples, and all. If he’d told her to strip right there in the middle of the party, she would have. Instead, he’d thanked her for putting it together, handed her a glass of champagne from a passing waiter, and walked away.

Not counting the plane ride home, she didn’t see him again for almost four months.

Oh sure, they talked on the phone and via email and text several times a day. Not only did he design jewelry that appeared exclusively in Tiffany’s, but he also created one-of-a-kind pieces for private clients. Kitty was in charge of finding the gems for him to choose from, get him the right type of gold, silver, and platinum for the different uses, and so on, not to mention the invoicing and banking.

He had a workshop in the back of the office, but rarely used it anymore, preferring instead to work from his home. And who could blame him, really? She sat at her desk, chin in hand, and daydreamed.

Logan’s lips had been soft, warm. His hands on her body had been oh, so deliciously hard. She’d been too surprised the first kiss to react much, but the second one she’d totally moved into him. Kissed him back. Used her tongue.

Her panties grew wet as she thought about it. Would he want her to strip? Or would he want to strip her, instead? If she found him beneath her Christmas tree, her dreams would totally come true. She’d rock his cock to kingdom come, and he’d love the hell out of it.

Kitty checked the clock. Logan said he’d be in by noon, so she still had time to make a fresh pot of coffee. Every time he came in, he dumped a load of work for her to do, which meant if she were going to get out of the office on time tonight and start her own vacation, she’d better re-fuel.

In the tiny kitchen, Kitty swished out the pot, chucked the grounds from that morning, and put freshly ground beans in the gold filter. Added fresh water, and set it to brew. Logan had once said he liked the smell of coffee brewing, so she tried to always have a pot going when he was scheduled to come in.

God she was pathetic. A lovesick fool. And apparently she had no pride. She checked herself in the bathroom mirror. The retro red polka dotted dress was one of her favorites, the black belt accentuating her waist, and the sweetheart neckline highlighting her boobs. Since they were noticeable no matter what she did, she may as well flaunt them, right?

She smacked her lips together, slicked another coat of Perfect Red across them. She had been born in the wrong decade. Lord knew she had a pinup girl’s body. Oh well. One of these days the pendulum would swing back, and a woman with tits and ass would get the love.

One of these days.

The front door jingled and she hurried down the short hallway back to her desk in time to see Logan closing the door behind him.

“Turn off the damned holiday music.”

She turned the speakers to mute, cutting off the Trans Siberian Orchestra. “Good afternoon. Coffee will be ready in a bit.” Damn it; he was in a pissy mood.

He wore ratty jeans, a turtleneck with moth holes in one side, and a cloak of irritability. Snow dusted his shoulders. His beard was longer than she’d ever seen it, and his dark hair hadn’t been cut in months. His soft leather briefcase bulged when he set it on her desk.

“I’ve got billings for you. Plus checks for you to deposit. I haven’t had time.” He pulled out three big envelopes stuffed with papers.

Not again. Kitty took a breath. “We can get a stamp, and I can make the deposits for you when I get the checks. That way there’s no worry about cash flow.”

“There is no worry about cash flow. Besides, I like things the way they are. I’m not changing.”

“You’re getting grumpier. You’ve lost weight. What’s wrong?” She put her hands on her hips and glared at him. “I haven’t seen you in months, it’s snowing outside and you’re not wearing a coat, and the first thing out of your mouth is ‘turn off the music’? Really?”

“We talk all the time.” He pivoted and headed down the hall to his office, on the other side of the kitchen.

Oh, fuck no. She followed, concerned and angry and confused. He always confused her.

“We talk on the phone and online, yes. Not in person. You look like a hot mess. You need to see a barber, and for God’s sakes, do you have any clean clothes?”

He sat behind his desk, put his briefcase on the floor. “I’m sorry my lack of sartorial splendor offends your sensibilities, Katherine. Feel free to go back to your desk so you don’t have to observe me in all my slovenliness.”

“You are one frustrating son of a bitch, you know that?” she demanded. “Honestly.” Seeing the stack of mail on his desk, she sighed and switched into assistant-mode.

“Of the mail there, the Christmas cards are on the left. The invitations are in the middle, and on the right are the sundry ads. These are the things I don’t bother sending to you, but can’t find the nerve to throw away.”

He chucked the holiday cards into the trash without opening them. Went through each invitation, and one after the other, they ended in the trash. The ads also got a cursory glance before hitting the round file.

“You’re so efficient with putting everything in the cloud, that I may end up closing this office. Have you work from home.”

Her eyebrows rose, and a thread of alarm went through her. “Work from home? Why? I love it here.”

‘Here’ was the small town of Sherwood Creek, up in the mountains, a bit of a distance from Mammoth Lakes, California. The same scenery, but without the huge tourist invasion.

Logan raised an eyebrow. “I would, of course, help you with your rent, if we make this move.” He named a figure that she knew was a quarter of what he currently paid for the office, but much more than what she paid for rent.

She sat then in the guest chair across from him. “I’m stunned.”

Logan shrugged, his eyes on his cell phone. “It makes good financial sense. I sell this building, you get a break on your rent, and life is good. I’m rarely here anymore, anyway.”

“Yeah, but come on, Logan. You used to be here six days out of seven. When Wren worked here, she said sometimes you would sleep in your studio. When I came on board, you kept the same schedule at first.” She swallowed and her heart beat faster than normal.

“Katherine. Don’t do this.” His voice was calm. Too calm. And he still didn’t look at her.

“It wasn’t until after the Mystique launch that things changed. It wasn’t until after you kissed me, under the mistletoe, twice I might add, that you began to pull away.” She winced at the hurt in her tone, knew he could hear it too. Fuck it. Pent-up emotion spilled out of her.

“Maybe I should just quit. Let you get back to real life.” In a flurry of skirts, she stood and went to the door, thinking only to escape. There, she paused, glanced over her shoulder to see his head still bent to his phone. Pain speared her.

“You can’t even look at me. I disgust you. Well, this situation disgusts me. I’ll get the work done that you’ve asked. Then I’m off for vacation until January second. When I get back, I’ll find you a new assistant.”

When he didn’t reply, she blinked back tears. “I would have done anything for you.” She left his office, cursing the break in her voice. She went to her desk, bent her head to her task, and ignored the tears rolling down her cheeks.

Down the hall, she heard his office door close.

She gave herself two more minutes, then swiped at her cheeks with a tissue. “Do not cry, Katherine Jane Dodd. He is not worth your tears.” With that fierce mantra going through her head, she turned up the Christmas music and shook out the first envelope. Checks. Damn. Checks that went back almost two months.

She made copies of all the checks, made sure he had signed each one, before putting together a bank deposit slip. Three bank slips later she was done, and clipped them all together before putting them in her purse. She’d deposit them on her way home, since now she was leaving for her vacation as fast as she possibly could.

The Christmas music was far too cheery for her state of mind, so she switched to her Adele playlist. Properly all ‘we’re broken up’ music.

She sifted through the next envelope, which contained hand-written notes for invoices to clients. She shook her head. Their system was flawed. She did what she could, but unless they worked in the same office together when he saw clients, she couldn’t invoice them easily. She undercharged, or overcharged, and getting his approval on the invoices themselves took an act of God lately.

Damn it. She swept the notes back into the envelope and stood, put everything he’d dumped on her into her satchel, and shut down her computer. She could do this all from home, and that’s what she’d do. Much better than doing it here with the cold fish down the hall.

She grabbed her keys and headed to his office. The closed door didn’t faze her a bit and she barged right in. Logan swiveled around so his back was to her, but not before she caught sight of raw agony on his face.

All the fire went out of her. Her heart ached for him. “I’m leaving now. Headed to the bank, and doing the rest of my work at home.”

“I’ll be gone in a few minutes, too. If you’d rather come back to finish up, I’d appreciate it. In case of any last minute customers.” His voice sounded raw, as if he’d been screaming. Or crying.

“I don’t know.”

“Please, Katherine.”

She shivered. The way he said her name made her think all sorts of dirty, sexy, so-inappropriate things that he’d do to a much more sophisticated her.

“All right. I’ll come back here. Bank, then lunch.” She took a quick look at her watch. “I’ll be back by one-thirty.”

“Thank you.”

“Yeah. Have a merry Christmas, Logan.”

He only snorted at that.

Kitty sighed and left. She loved her boss, but right now he was such a prick. A prick who looked like he’d lost his best friend. Not that she would know. His business? Yes. His bank balance? Yes. His favorite gem dealers? Hell yes, she knew all those things. She knew how long it took him to create something fresh, and how long it took for him to set diamonds in an engagement ring. She used to know how long it took him to drink a cup of coffee.

But his personal life? As far as she could tell, he didn’t have one. No family that she knew of, no friends that came consistently around.

Compassion rose in her. No friends. That would truly suck. She was right there, though. Why didn’t he ever reach out to her as a friend?

As Kitty ran her errands, she turned the problem of her boss over in her head. Surely there was something she could do to help him. She hadn’t seen him smile often, and never in the past six months or so.

A couple of tacos and a Coke later, she unlocked the office door just after one-thirty. His car was gone from the small lot, so she breezed through, safe in the assumption that she was alone.

On her desk was a lavish arrangement of a dozen red roses delicately laced with baby’s breath, a card sticking up. Nestled at the base of the crystal vase was a square white box with a pink bow on it.

Kitty sat down, her heart pounding. She reached for the card and read it. Blinked. In Logan’s handwriting, no less. I’m a sorry son-of-a-bitch. Don’t quit. Please.

Her fingers trembled and she set the card down. Picked up the box and lifted the lid.

She gasped and got misty-eyed. Inside, several small diamonds glittered on thin silver wires, scattered in a random pattern. Against her throat, it would look like they were floating there. The clasp at the back had two diamonds, about half a carat each. He could easily command a high five figures for this piece. Was he insane?

It wasn’t a design she recognized, either. So…he’d made it…just for her? Maybe? She blinked back tears, only then seeing the note beneath the cotton. She pulled the thick card out.

K, I meant to give this to you for your 26th birthday, but I misplaced it. Happy birthday.

“Oh my God. Oh my God.” Never mind that her birthday was back in May. She tucked the thick white card beneath the cotton, carefully replaced the necklace, and put it in her bag. How could she possibly concentrate on work now?

She opened her email to find one from Logan blinking at her.

Katherine,

I’m off to my cabin until the New Year. Have a great time on your vacation. Wear your present.

~L

She harrumphed. His cabin had no cell service, no TV, no Internet service. He was going to hide over the holidays, and she wanted to know why, damn it. Was he taking some woman up there?

She could understand it if he did. Sexy times didn’t need the Internet, that’s for sure. But he seemed frozen inside, and she doubted he had a woman with him.

Sighing, she didn’t bother to answer his email, since he wouldn’t get it for close to two weeks, anyway.

The phone rang. “Logan Erickson’s office, Kitty speaking.”

“Kitty! Thank God you’re still there.”

“Mr. Hennessey. So good to hear your voice. Merry Christmas, sir.” She leaned back in her chair. She’d always liked the old man. He was a frequent customer.

“Merry Christmas. I’m in trouble, Kitty.” He sounded forlorn.

“Oh no. Did you forget a Christmas present? We have diamond studs if you need a quick gift.”

“No, dear girl, it’s not that. It’s worse.” He sighed heavily.

“What can I do for you, Mr. H?”

“Logan was supposed to pick up a design for a necklace for the missus. Her birthday is the tenth of January, and you know how Logan needs the time to adjust when he does special projects.”

Her mind spun. “Hmm, yes.”

“Kitty, would you mind running the design and the gemstones over to him this afternoon? The missus and I are headed to New York City for the holidays. I can drop them to you in twenty minutes. You know I can’t let the missus know her gift will be jewelry, because she’ll insist on designing it herself.”

Kitty didn’t hesitate. “Of course, Mr. Hennessey. I’m happy to do that for you.”

After a few fervent thank-yous on his part, and assurances on hers, they hung up.

“Well, hell.” She checked her watch. He’d get here by two-thirty or so. If she hurried, she might be able to catch Logan at his home in town.

It was on her way out of town, anyway, since she was headed to Mammoth Lakes tonight. She had her car already packed, just needed to stop home to change clothes. She would do Mr. Hennessey’s errand and still make Mammoth Lakes in time for dinner and a drink with friends, as long as the snowfall stayed light.

The roses. Damn it. If she left them here, they’d die. If she left them at her apartment, they’d die. She ran her finger across the edge of the delicate petals and shrugged. Maybe she’d just take them with her, then. Nothing like brightening up her room in the lodge with red roses.

She smiled, anticipation fizzing in her veins. She was going to see Logan again today. A thank-you kiss for the necklace was entirely appropriate.

Wasn’t it?