SUSAN MEIER - Bride Under the Mistletoe - The Magic of a Family Christmas

“You scoot now,” Mrs. Brennon said, waving her arms at Wendy. “You have a party to go to.”

Wendy raced to her bedroom. The party began at seven. She needed an hour to dress. And there was the matter of the thirty-minute drive to the hotel. She didn’t have a second to waste.

She quickly stripped and showered but spent far too long twisting her long hair into bouncy curls with the curling iron.

Realizing she had about ten minutes to get on the road or dinner would already be started, she raced to her closet. And stood staring at the dress she’d purchased the week before with Emma and Patty’s guidance.

She pulled out the simple sleeveless red sheath and examined it, wondering if she should wear it. They’d picked it knowing it would attract Cullen’s attention. Short enough to reveal a bit of leg, but not embarrassingly short. Snug enough to cruise her curves but not too tight.

Would it be enough to attract his attention?

And if it wasn’t, would she lose her patience and ask him to dance?

Could she risk another rejection?

Not entirely sure how to dress for this event, since he’d never attended a company Christmas party, Cullen decided on a plain black suit, a white shirt and a gold tie. That was about as festive as his wardrobe got when he was traveling. But when he stepped into the hotel’s ballroom and saw that most of the men wore suits and ties, no tuxes, he relaxed.

He took a drink from a passing waiter and saw Wendy in the back of the room chatting with some people from shipping and receiving. The sleeveless red dress she wore was particularly flattering to her figure, and he let his gaze ripple from her head to her toes, pausing to take in the length of leg she exposed.

She’d never looked prettier or sexier, so he turned and walked in the other direction. Not because he wanted to avoid her, but because he needed to be careful around her. Especially in a room full of witnesses. If he lost control and kissed her again, that would be the talk of the factory on Monday morning. He still had almost a week to work here and the prospect of being teased or gossiped about didn’t thrill him. Worse, Wendy had to work with these people forever. He wouldn’t embarrass her.

The ladies in his candy posse corralled him and he accepted their invitation to sit at their table for dinner. Which was good. He’d avoided yet another opportunity to get too close to Wendy.

After dinner, the band shifted from dinner music to dance music. Telling his posse that he needed to mingle, he excused himself and headed for the bar. He was stopped by so many people that the band finished their first set, took a break and began playing again before he actually made it.

He ordered a Scotch and suddenly found himself standing by Emma Watson and Patty Franks. “Good evening, Mr. Barrington.”

“Good evening, ladies. Are you enjoying yourselves?”

“Yes. Thank you.”

Patty blinked false eyelashes at him. “I haven’t seen you dancing yet tonight.”

“I sort of got waylaid.”

“That’s no excuse,” she said with a laugh. Just when Cullen was absolutely positive she was about to ask him to dance, she shifted slightly. Wendy stood behind her. “I’m sure Wendy would love to dance.”

From the way Wendy’s eyes widened with fear, Cullen not only knew her friends had surprised her, but also that dancing with him was probably the absolute last thing she wanted to do. But because she was afraid, not eager, he knew they would be safe together. Saying no or making a fuss would only call more attention to them than if they simply complied and danced to one song.

He held out his hand. “Would you care to dance?”

She swallowed and looked at her two friends who were smirking with victory before she placed her hand in his. “Sure.”

He led her out to the crowded floor just as the band stopped playing a hopping fast tune and began playing something slow. He caught her gaze. “If you’d rather not—”

She grimaced. “They’ll just keep hounding us until we dance, so we might as well get this over with.”

Taking her into his arms, he said, “Just what every guy wants to hear.”

She laughed. “Sorry.”

She fit so perfectly and felt so good that Cullen nearly groaned. Luckily, Wendy tilted her head back and said, “You’re a big hit.”

He laughed. “Thanks to my love of candy and my candy posse.”

“Rumor has it you paid for the party.”

He shrugged. “It’s the least my father and I can do.”

“Well, that gesture’s gone a long way to improve employee morale.”

“Nobody thinks the plant is closing anymore?”

She shook her head and gave him another sweet smile. “No. Thank you.”

“These people should be thanking you.”

She shrugged. “Not really. I was just being a good assistant. Filling you in on things you should know.”

He pulled back, caught her gaze. “You really can’t be that good.”

Her pretty face scrunched in confusion, as her eyes lit with laughter. “What do you mean good?”

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