Presents wrapped in red and green paper surrounded the massive chair. Small surprise gifts for all the staff at Tate Toys. Santa would be coming soon. He’d be there to hear all their Christmas wishes. There to make those wishes come true.
Christie’s fingers tightened on the champagne flute.
Then she caught a glimpse of Santa, and she spilled the rest of her champagne over the front of her red reindeer shirt.
Wow.
Santa was a stud.
She swallowed as she got a good look at the jolly old elf. Santa stood just inside the doorway of Tate Toys, a thick sack flung over his left shoulder—and what a nice shoulder it was. Actually, Santa had two nice shoulders. Nice, wide, broad shoulders that more than filled the red coat he wore.
Her gaze tracked slowly down his body. No shaking like a bowl-full-of-jelly there. Oh, no, that man—Santa—was built. Tall, strong. His muscled thighs stretched the red pants and his powerful legs disappeared into a pair of knee-high black boots.
Santa stalked toward her. A fluffy white and fake beard covered his face. A bright red hat hid his hair. All she could see were sparkling green eyes and high, tanned cheekbones.
“Have you been a good girl?” His voice was a dark, deep rumble of sound.
Christie licked her lips. “I—”
“Of course, she has,” a voice behind her said with a laugh. Her brother. Jeez, had Daniel caught her ogling Santa? “You know Christie’s always the good one,” he said.
At his words, her blood seemed to ice. Right, the good one. That was her. Growing up, she’d been the one closeted away with books while Daniel had been out chasing girls and getting chased by the law.
More laughter floated in the air, and she realized they’d caught the attention of other staff members. Everyone seemed to be watching her. Watching and staring.
Good girl. Good boring girl.
That’s me.
Her stare flew back to Santa. His head cocked toward her. He seemed to be…waiting. For her?
“Everyone gets a present this year!” Daniel’s shout boomed behind her. “We’ll start our line, and hey, Christie can be Santa’s first victim!”
Victim? Since when did Santa have victims? But everyone was lining up, pushing forward, and they were obviously eager for their gifts.
What? Had Daniel put Christmas bonuses in that sack? Knowing him, probably.
Santa set down his bag. Then he rolled his shoulders. Those big, wonderful shoulders, but wait—that roll, that was familiar to her. Those green eyes had been familiar, too.
Her heart suddenly beat a little faster.
“Go on, Christie,” Daniel urged as he gave her a nudge. “Someone has to get the game started,” he whispered the last part in her ear. “You do it, they’ll all do it.”
She didn’t care what everyone else did.
“Why don’t you go and break Santa in, Christie?” Daniel said, raising his voice a bit. “Come on, just go tell the man what you want for Christmas.”
Santa had taken his seat on the giant chair/throne. He tilted his head back and stared at her. Then he patted his lap and crooked his finger. At her.
More laughter.
The champagne seemed to burn in her belly. From the corner of her eye, she caught sight of Charles heading toward the end of the growing line. He was minus his new girlfriend.
“Uh, Christie?” Daniel’s voice was whisper soft again. “Everyone’s waiting.”
Let ’em wait. The words were on the tip of her tongue. But a good girl wouldn’t say that, right?
Santa patted his muscular leg again. “Come tell me what you want.” His deep voice carried so easily.
Christie shoved her empty flute at Daniel. “Get rid of this, will you?” She sucked in more pine-tasting air and got ready to tell Santa exactly what she wanted.
Her steps were slow but certain as she approached the Santa Stud and his throne. His eyes were on her, so watchful.
Do it. The whisper came from deep inside. A challenge, a dare. It came from the wilder Christie, the side she always kept so carefully controlled.
Do it.
What did she have to lose?
She stopped in front of him, and the long edge of her skirt teased his boots. “Um, hi.” Right. That sounded confident and sexy.
Santa caught her fingers with his gloved hand and pulled. Christie found herself on Santa’s lap. A lap that was even harder and stronger up close. Her left hand flew out and pressed against his stomach as she struggled to balance herself.
Definitely not jelly in there. Though she hadn’t felt them often in her life, a woman knew rock-hard abs when they pressed against her, even if those abs were hidden by a slightly rough red coat.
“Hello, there.” His breath blew against her hair. “No need to be afraid of old Santa.”
Obviously, he didn’t know her that well. If he did, he would’ve known that she was afraid of everything.
She glanced back up at his eyes. Very faint laugh lines graced the edges of his green eyes. No old St. Nick. A Santa in his prime.
A Santa with a toes-curling sexy voice.
He released her hand and began to search through his bag of presents. She kept straddling his leg. Not so graceful.
“I’m sure I have something in here for a good girl like you.”
She saw red—and not just from his suit. Christie broke as her wild side surged free. She grabbed his hand.
Santa froze. His gaze caught hers once more.
Her heartbeat shook her whole body as she told him, “You don’t have what I want in there.” She pitched her voice low, not wanting anyone to overhear. “Trust me on this. What I need isn’t in that bag.”
Those gorgeous eyes narrowed a bit. “What is it that you want for Christmas, pretty lady?”
She leaned in even closer, trying hard to balance on his legs. Santa sucked in a sharp breath, and she was about fifty percent sure she hadn’t kneed him in the groin. “I want…”
His head inched toward hers.
The white of his beard tickled her cheek. Christie inched up, heading for his ear. This was a request she needed to whisper.
What am I doing? What?!
Her gaze darted around the room. Daniel was talking to one of the managers, totally oblivious to her.
