A Very Merry Temptation: 'Twas the Season / Mistletoe in Memphis / Second-Chance Christmas

Max had been incredibly fascinated and headed toward clinical obsession the longer he stared at her.

The elevator had jerked slightly and she had been jostled, not enough to bring her to his side, but enough that it moved her closer. His eyes had been drawn to her breasts, which bounced right along with the elevator, and the jiggle...fuck. If he wasn’t careful, Max knew he would be in trouble of accosting a woman he didn’t even know.

His nostrils had flared as he dragged in a deep breath. He had felt the overwhelming need to close his eyes, take in her intoxicating essence. It reached out and ensnarled him, dragging him in. What the hell was going on with him? one part of his mind had questioned.

Although he’d had plenty of women, he’d never felt this immediate and damn-near feverish type of attraction before that day.

The thought had hit him that the woman was turning him on in ways he hadn’t been turned on by anyone in a long time. Damn. And that was with her clothes on, in a public area...an elevator, no less.

What the hell would happen if he could get her alone? He’d convince her to take off her clothes and see if that perfectly mounded butt of hers fit into his palms with a hint of hang time, the overflow spilling over his cupped palms like two deviously ripened small melons, like he thought it would.

Max had shaken his head. He was getting ahead of himself. At the rate his mind was racing, the images that were bombarding his heated libido, he’d have her up against the wall and be balls-deep before he could even find out who she was.

He’d never been this affected by someone he didn’t know. Hadn’t spoken to.

He had known that he only had a finite time before the elevator ride ended to find out who she was, whether she worked in the office building and where.

She had cleared her throat and Max had met her eyes.

“Could you press number fourteen for me?” She had asked, her soft voice like music, the end notes floating over his skin like a butterfly’s caress.

He had frowned, the strength of her appeal unlike anything he’d ever felt.

Max had casually leaned forward to jab the button she’d requested, his gaze never leaving hers. Her eyes had broken contact, and again he caught the hint of a blush staining her pretty cocoa-brown skin.

His glance had raked over her again.

Max had learned a long time ago to go with his gut. It was what had allowed him to break away from the family and their fortune and earn his own way, and why to date he’d amassed a fortune through commercial real estate that was a force to be reckoned with, although it didn’t exactly match the family holdings. Although he held an interest in the family business, he hadn’t relied on his family to give him extra leverage.

Working for himself and not using the family name as a way to get his foot in the door, Max prided himself on the fact that he was a self-made man.

In doing so, he’d learned a valuable, sometimes painful lesson, that when he didn’t follow his hunches, his gut, it was a surefire way of fucking up.

And he had no intention of fucking up this hunch. The hunch that had told him that the woman occupying his space was important to him.

And his gut had told him this chance encounter was...going to be interesting. He didn’t know in what way, but he had felt it, deep within his core.

He had allowed the smile that had been lurking to break free, fully aware that she’d caught him staring. But it was her own fault for being so damn fine. So...intoxicating to his senses.

He had drawn in a breath, his smile widening when he saw her reaction. Her pupils had dilated. His glance had dropped to the hollow of her throat, and the banging little pulse that beckoned for his mouth to cover, caress and assure that he wasn’t going to hurt her...that he would take good care of her. His dick was now painful within the constriction of his pants.

His eyes had suddenly narrowed as realization hit after he had pushed the button. They worked for the same company. It was then he had noticed the messenger bag she had slung over her shoulder that featured his family’s crest. Many of the new employees had been given a bag with the emblem emblazoned on the front when they began to work for the company.

“Thank you,” she had said and ducked her head, but Max had caught the flare of awareness, the look of admiration that crossed her beautiful face as she had been sizing him up.

“No problem,” Max had finally muttered, realizing that he’d been staring at the woman far too long.

He had waited for her to realize that he was headed toward the same company.

He had stuck out his hand. “Max Stele. I’m new,” he had said, his voice low, his gaze fixed on hers.

Locked and loaded.

“Figured you worked for MagHard, too,” he had said, indicating the button he’d just depressed and her bag with the corporate logo.

“Oh, okay...um, I’m Nikki. Nikki Danes. I, uh, work in Accounting,” she had replied, and glanced down at his waiting, opened palm.

She had hesitated briefly before lightly placing her hand within his. Immediately Max’s much larger one had clamped down firmly. He had bit down a groan; her hand was soft and felt...right held within his. He had held on longer than necessary, and when she had tugged, gently, he had allowed her to withdraw. For now.

“Do you like working there?” he had asked.

“Well, I think I do. Depends on how the dragon is feeling today.”

He had barked out a surprised laugh at her response. As soon as the words left her pretty, full lips, her eyes had widened and she slammed a hand over her mouth, suppressing a groan. His libido and humor were at war with each other, both vying for dominance.

He had known who Nikki was referring to: Ms. Nadine Rockway, the accounting manager.

He also knew the woman had breath that could start a forest fire. But Nadine Rockway was a damn good accountant, one who had been handling the books for various Hardaway companies and working for and with his mother for years. The two were like sisters. Of a sort.

But her breath still stank to high heaven.

“Dragon lady, huh?” he had asked, staring down at her, keeping a straight face. “Is that because she’s so...seasoned?” She bit her lip, but Max had seen the glint of humor in her pretty brown eyes and he had pressed on. “Or is it because her breath could scorch the fine hairs off a frog’s back?”

“Well...that’s an interesting way of putting it,” she had stated, and they both had laughed.

“This is my floor,” she had said, the giggles subsiding as the elevator came to a halt. “Maybe I’ll see you around.”

“No doubt about it, Ms. Danes,” he had murmured.

After she’d left the elevator, her unique scent remained. Unconsciously, Max had adjusted himself in his pants, his shaft reacting again to the scent of the woman.

But as enticing as her unique scent had been, her casual beauty and the hint of her offbeat humor had snared his attention even more.

When the elevator had reached his floor, Max had stepped into the upper management offices with a new, upbeat feeling, suddenly looking forward to his stint. And all because of Nikki Danes.

Over the following weeks, he had gone out of his way to see her, finding any excuse to visit the administrative offices and catch glimpses of her. Yet for all the times he’d seen her, he’d become frustrated as hell, because he’d not once since that first moment had one damn moment alone with her.

Now nights were beginning to merge into one long pubescent wet dream, wherein he’d wake up with his shaft in his hand and sexy images of the pretty accounting assistant teasing his mind.

Despite his veiled excuses to visit the accounting department, he’d not had the opportunity to get her alone and talk to her. Not that Max hadn’t tried his damnedest.

He’d found out her lunchtime, and although he’d gone to the cafeteria, he hadn’t caught a glimpse of her. Further snooping and he’d found out she was a full-time grad student and often used her lunch periods to go and study.

Although his identity as a member of the Hardaway family was unknown, there were two people who knew who he really was: Nadine Rockway, Nikki’s immediate supervisor and the head of the accounting department, and the chief of security and personnel, James Green.

Max knew that if he accessed the records and looked her up himself, it would be suspicious. There was no way in hell he was going to go to Nadine and ask. Without a doubt he knew that it would become a topic of conversation between the woman and his mother, something he could do without.

Which left James, a much better candidate for his mission to find out all he could about Nikki. The man had worked for the family business for years, just as Nadine had, but he was less inclined to gossip with Max’s mother. Without asking questions—he was the chief of security, after all—he’d not only pulled her personal records from the files, but he’d also loaded her full dossier on a jump drive and placed it in a sealed envelope.