J. Critch - A Sinful Little Christmas

She straightened, telling herself that she couldn’t lust over the new guy. No matter how fucking sexy he was. He was her employee, whether she wanted him here or not. “It’s not your job yet,” she told him.

“Right, then,” he said carefully as he leaned back. His long legs crossed in front of him, his right ankle over his left knee, and his arms stretched casually along the back of the couch—as if he owned the place. “That wasn’t how I understood my meeting with your partners, though. Especially since I was able to procure a work visa…for my job here.” He paused and then grinned. “But sure,” he said. “Let’s talk. Because now that I’m here, and have the job, I’m not going anywhere. The sooner we can get on the same page, the better.”

Alana watched him for a moment. She might be attracted to him, and she certainly appreciated confident men, but he was cocky in a way that she wasn’t sure she liked. Unlike most people who sat across from her desk, he didn’t seem at all intimidated by her. In an attempt to gain control of the meeting, she cooled, and tried her best to seem unaffected by him. Hopefully, she was successful, but his smirk told her that he saw right through her. She cleared her throat. “Mr. Paul. I’m not certain we can find the same page. I’d settle for us at least being in the same book.”

Michael narrowed his eyes at the woman sitting in front of him. Gabe and his mates had told him about Alana—warned him about her, was more like it—but he hadn’t properly prepared himself to meet her in person. Sure, she was beautiful, but that wasn’t all. Already he could tell she was strong, tough, smart, a formidable woman. And for some reason, she didn’t seem pleased to see him in her office. That was a surprise. The fellows had enthusiastically welcomed him aboard, and he had no idea why he met resistance now. “What would you like to know?” he asked.

“This is far different than any situation I’ve found myself in, and even though my partners brought you here, I have no idea who you are. As far as I’m concerned, it’s still a job interview. So, start by telling me about yourself.” Bristling at her command, his entire body tensed. He was accustomed to being the one in control, and she’d put him in a subservient position. He didn’t like it, but knowing he needed to impress her, he tamped his annoyance down and looked at her from where he sat. His height may have put him almost at her level, but whether it was the low couch or the high position of her chair, she and her desk still seemed to tower over him. Total power move on her part, and he had to admire the design. Neat trick. He pegged her as a woman who liked to be in control. But he also liked control, and he wouldn’t give it up that easily.

She threw her long blond hair over her shoulder, and barely looked at him. He clenched his fist, imagining himself pushing his fingers through it, pulling a little. He saw her eyes dip to look at his hands.

His new boss was sexy. And his immediate reaction to her surprised him, especially when he should have been focused on making a positive first impression. While Michael had thought it was a done deal, it seemed that Alana Carter was the gatekeeper of his sorely needed second chance. Sure, her male partners had given him a great job and a new opportunity, but now he knew he wouldn’t get far if he couldn’t get by her.

He hadn’t packed up what was left of his life just days before Christmas to move to a new country to mess it all up on day one. He had to be on his best behavior, because screwing up his new life before it started wasn’t an option, no matter how beautiful the woman was, or how badly he wanted her to give him a personal tour of her erotic club in the bottom floor of the building, and then maybe he’d show her a thing or two himself.

Alana watched him expectantly, and Michael realized that she was waiting for a response. Right, the interview. He cleared his throat. “Well, up until very recently, I lived in London, where I opened and ran Swings Playground. We made five million pounds in profit in our first year, and then each year since, we’ve doubled the previous year’s earnings.”

She nodded with approval, and Michael felt his confidence bolster. “Very impressive. I know Swings,” she said. “I’ve visited a couple of times while in London.”

“Oh really?” he asked, his interest piqued, and he was curious where her tastes lay.

“Yeah, a couple of years ago. I was in London for a conference.”

“And how was your visit?”

“Quite fun. It’s a nice, comfortable place you’ve built.”

“Thank you,” he said, a bitter taste in his mouth, thinking about the place he’d created but then been ousted from. “I look forward to finally seeing Di Terrestres as well,” he told her, hoping to take the focus off himself and put it on her own club. “Once our interview is over, that is.”

“I’ll get someone to show you around later, if we need to. But back to you. Swings is successful, and well-known in the international community. I’m curious, though. Why exactly did you leave?”

Michael paused. He didn’t know how to form the words, having never said them out loud to anyone before. He had deeply buried the pain and humiliation of the betrayal. But in the moments when he let himself feel, it still stung him. He hadn’t hoped to get into it during his first meeting with the woman he’d be working with. So, he went with a fair response of “It was time for my partners and me to part ways.”

He caught the flicker of a question that showed in her eyes, her bullshit detector, no doubt, pinging at his nonresponse.

“Why the vague answer?” she asked, leaning back in her chair. She crossed her arms, and he couldn’t help but notice the way her more-than-ample breasts pushed upward. His eyes drifted to the line of her cleavage that disappeared beneath the low neckline of her dress. “Unless you’re too busy looking at my breasts to provide an actual one.”

Caught. “Sorry.” He wasn’t at all sorry. “There’s not much else to say about my split from my partners.”

“I think there is.”

“It’s nothing that will affect my ability to work here,” he assured her.

But she wouldn’t let it go. “Legal trouble?” she asked, with her eyes narrowed and the tilt of her head showing off a length of smooth skin on her neck. All those sensitive nerve endings. He wondered if she would moan or squeal if he grazed it with his lips.

“More like personal.” Michael’s voice was gruff, barely recognizable to him. It wasn’t anger that had transformed it—as was what happened when he normally spoke of the infidelity he’d suffered at the hands of those closest to him—but lust. It had been a while since he’d had such a reaction to a woman, no matter the attitude she threw his way. Maybe that was part of her appeal, he mused. She didn’t just fall at his feet and want to give him anything he desired. Her resistance to him was new, and the fact that he would have to work hard to impress her—well, he liked that. He could appreciate hard work. It just made the rewards sweeter.

Alana raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow.

He knew he would have to further elaborate, or she wouldn’t let it go. He averted his eyes, checking out her office—it was sleek in design, modern, but comfortable—and he blew out a heavy breath. “Okay, fine. My wife—” he caught her quick, surprised blink “—my very soon to be ex-wife ,” he clarified. “We owned the club with a friend of ours. The marriage ended, the friendship ended, and so did the partnership.” Michael figured giving the short-and-not-so-sweet version of what went down would be the easiest option.