hadn’t told her closest friend, much less anyone at the office.
She shook her head and brushed it off, feeling certain it was the culmination of a hectic week getting the best of her. Besides, she’d just been thinking about her Texan lover. It would be natural to put innuendo into anything the gentleman said. She assured herself it meant nothing, and that settled her nerves until she turned back to find him gone.
She darted her eyes around the room but he was nowhere. It was as if he’d disappeared. If it weren’t for the candy cane still in her hand, she’d think the whole encounter had been a figment of her imagination, brought on by her tired state or maybe a bit of bad meat from that potluck buffet. But there it was in her hand, proof that the odd conversation truly happened.
Just then, the music stopped and John Stryker took the stage to begin his annual year-end speech, and as he spoke, her mind wandered to the jolly Santa’s words.
Warm days and even warmer nights?
She might have passed it off as an innocuous comment if it hadn’t been for the “nudge-nudge, wink-wink” look in his eyes. But how could anyone have possibly known what she’d done?
“I don’t know about you, but every day that I have to shovel snow makes me wish I had a shorter driveway,” John said from the stage, though she only half heard him, distracted by what was on her mind. It wasn’t until he added, “Monica got stuck in Florida, the poor thing,” that she glanced up startled and embarrassed as though, like the Santa, everyone in the room could read her thoughts and knew exactly what she’d done on her trip.
“They’d closed O’Hare,” she stuttered, having no idea why she felt the need to defend herself. Nonetheless, the shrill in her voice drew half the room’s attention to her, and now many were still staring at her, all wide-eyed and flustered, surely wondering if she’d lost her mind.
This was ridiculous. Her conversation with that silly Santa had set her off and now she was acting like a fool. As casually as possible, she ducked out of the party and down the hall to the bathroom, where she took a long breath and dabbed cold water on her face.
It was childish, carrying on like this over a one-night stand. So she’d had sex with a stranger. Women did it every day. And as a strong, successful executive in the business world, shouldn’t she be able to enjoy a spicy night of pleasure without being overcome with guilt and fearing public scandal?
Okay, so maybe hot sweaty sex wasn’t normally her style. Maybe her traditional prep-school upbringing had embedded in her a sense of propriety that didn’t mesh well with steamy encounters with blue-collar working men. But hadn’t she managed to deprogram most of those antiquated notions from her life?
Monday night, she certainly had. She’d found a man who was too sexy to deny, passionate and fiery, with a gritty smile and big brown eyes a girl could lose herself in. Kit Baldwin had been a riot in the lounge and a magician between the sheets, and she’d enjoyed every second of that flaming night in his arms.
It was only when he’d told her he’d wanted her number before drifting off to sleep that she’d felt the clash of her prim and tidy world closing in on her. And in a sudden move of panic, she’d gathered her things and skipped out into the night.
Proof that she wasn’t as pulled together as she’d like to believe.
And now she was standing here in the bathroom trying to fight off an overwhelming sense of indecency. What on earth was wrong with her?
Get a grip, Monica. It was just really good sex, for goodness’ sake. And as for Kit, the man has surely forgotten all about you by now.
It was time she forgot about him.
She closed her eyes and restored her senses, taking calming breaths until she felt soothed and ready to go back to the party. It was that weird Santa Claus, she assured herself. There’d been something strange about the man and it had knocked her off her game—momentarily. But she was ready to take charge again. Feeling refreshed, she checked herself over in the mirror then headed back to the party.
She spent the next hour mingling with the employees, talking business and holiday plans. She congratulated Nick on winning this year’s sales award and offered her thanks to those members of her staff who were working hard to meet the year-end deadlines. With the music and chatter and wine, she’d all but forgotten about Florida and her steamy night of passion. So she was completely unguarded by the time she heard John’s voice over her shoulder.
“Monica, if you’ve got a second, I have someone I’d like you to meet.”
Without hesitation, she turned and smiled, only to find herself staring into a set of familiar big brown eyes.
“Monica Newell, this is one of my favorite clients, Kit Baldwin.” John gestured to Kit. “Kit, meet our chief financial officer, Monica Newell.”
2
KIT GRINNED AS HE shook Monica’s hand, disappointed to see shock in those beautiful green eyes instead of the delighted surprise he’d hoped for, but he wasn’t deterred. Good fortune was following him tonight, and he was pretty sure that by the end of the evening, he’d turn that panicked expression into the sultry look he preferred.
“Ms. Newell, it’s a pleasure,” he offered brightly.
“Mr. Baldwin,” she replied, nervously darting her eyes between the two men.
“Kit’s been a long-time client of ours,” John said.
“A client,” she chirped, her grip tightening at the word client. She held her mouth in a tight-lipped smile that didn’t do much to hide the fright in her eyes, but only Kit seemed to notice. Without so much as a curious glance, John remained oblivious as he went on with the introductions.
“Kit owns Shelley Ranch.”
Her eyelids fluttered. “I’m familiar with that account.”
“It was named after my mother,” Kit explained.
Some of the color was returning to her cheeks but it wasn’t a friendly shade. Okay, so maybe he hadn’t explained his connection to Stryker & Associates when he’d met her in the lounge Monday night. By the time they’d gotten to the subject of their careers, he’d already been half-crazy about her, bound and determined to spend some quality time with the sharp and sexy brunette. So when she’d mentioned the company she worked for and he’d clued in to the coincidence, he decided against revealing any pesky detail that might have stuck a pitchfork in his plans.
Judging by the look on her face, it probably hadn’t been a good move.
“Kit called to say he was in town,” John went on, “so I invited him to come join the party.”
She pulled her hand away and fisted it at her side. “How lucky for us.”
The corporate smile pasted on her face had grown so taut Kit feared her lips might split apart. She was holding up a decent front, but he knew as soon as he got her alone, he’d be facing some sharp words. And that was okay by him. He had a few questions of his own, starting with why she’d pulled a disappearing act on him Monday night.
It certainly wasn’t because she’d been having a dull time. Kit didn’t claim to be a psychic between the sheets,
