I look over and see Kathryn staring at me. Her eyes are filled with desperation. Such an out of character look for a woman named one of America’s most powerful CEOs.
“Okay, just a peck.”
I lean in slowly…so slowly…keeping to the side so Kathryn can’t see what happens next.
Tasha is practically shaking as I bring my lips within a centimeter of her cheek.
You see this, don’t you? It makes you angry…
I kiss the air, then pull back. Tasha swats me on the chest. “That wasn’t a kiss!”
“Sorry.” I shrug. “That’s all I’ve got for tonight.”
She makes a disgruntled noise as I walk past her. Kathryn is steaming now, her cheeks an adorable rosy red.
I head into the kitchen and grab a seltzer from the fridge. When I turn, she’s standing behind me.
“What was that?” she hisses, closing the door behind her.
“What was what?” I chuckle.
“That!”She points behind her.
“Oh, that kiss?” I sip my seltzer casually. “It’s Christmas, you know? There’s mistletoe?”
Her whole body is shaking.
My eyes move down her neck, so slim and feminine. For a woman with such power, she really is tiny—delicate. Even with her heels, she’s barely at my shoulders.
Her skirt hugs her body just right. I bet it’s been tailored for her. Probably costs more than my car. I’ve never understood how women even walk in something so tight.
“Mistletoe? That’s your excuse?” she hisses. I’ve seen videos of her online, always so controlled, so professional. Now she sounds on the verge of tears. “Do you really think you can just—"
“I didn’t kiss her, Kathryn.”
She freezes, mouth open, pupils quivering.
“What?”
I step forward, and she steps back. I step closer, she backs up more.
“I can kissyou,though. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”
She gasps. Her eyes go wide as she tries to focus on anything other than me. But I’m so close now that it’s nearly impossible.
“Youcannotspeak to me that way…I am Kathryn Meyer. I am the CEO of this company!”
I can’t help but laugh as I drag my eyes up and down her body, imagining the beauty beneath.
“You look like a scared little rabbit, you know that?”
She grasps the counter with both hands to steady herself, as if a faint breeze might send her to the floor.
I move closer, inhaling her designer perfume. I reach out for the hem of her blazer, but she twists away.
Her eyes move to my hands, and her lips part like she’s attracted to them. The rough hands of a guy who had to work his way through school. I don’t come from money like she does.
I bet she’s soft and smooth from all the expensive moisturizer and spa treatments, anti-aging diets and whatever pricy fitness regime she follows.
