Speechless, a rare occurrence for her, she continued to gaze at him. With a chuckle he lifted her down.
“Now, my gorgeous silvery haired little elf, get to work, and I don’t want to see even one sad-faced doll come out of your workshop. Is that understood?” he asked sternly.
Merry found herself nodding and he turned her toward the door with a hand on her shoulder. “Good!”
Then it happened. His big hand came down and smacked her bottom, hard; leaving a stinging sensation that was still there long after she’d turned back to glare at him in outrage before storming toward the door.
“Merry. Dinner is at seven. Don’t make me come and fetch you.”
Sticking her small pink tongue out at him she opened the door and hurried from his office. She was certain she heard him chuckling as she rushed down the hallway rubbing her bottom.
CHAPTER3
Well, he’d certainly made his intentions clear, she decided as she worked away throughout the day. The problem was what to do about it. She could, of course, go up the chain of command, right to the top to Santa himself if necessary, but what would she gain.
While she’d never witnessed it herself, it was said that on rare occasions Santa had been known to take an exceptionally troublesome elf over his own wide lap and administer a spanking. Maybe it was all rumor and hearsay, but she could not be sure and in all honesty she’d been a terrible slacker in recent months putting her far behind schedule.
If the rumors were true, she might find herself in an even more painful and embarrassing predicament if the big boss were to hear of it.
Merry shivered as she put the tools of her trade away.
Who did Mr. Bright think he was anyway? And what gave him the right to kiss her? Although it had been a lovely kiss and she hadn’t had one in a while. He didn’t fumble or hesitate or slobber and grab. That was nice too. He also didn’t beat around the proverbial bush with innuendos and suggestive comments. No, he made it quite clear. He was interested in her. He thought she was intelligent and he liked that she was not a submissive little ‘cat got your tongue’ thing.
He thought she was…what had he said…oh yes, my beautiful little silver-haired elf, she recalled with a sigh. No one had called her beautiful in years. In fact, most of the other elves, especially the male ones, went out of their way to avoid her. It was kind of nice to be around someone who wasn’t intimidated by her sharp, quick wit.
Maybe she would go to dinner. Maybe they would even grow to be friends in time. It wouldn’t hurt to have an ally in upper management, just in case she ever decided to slap the hell out of Bernard.
As she walked home it struck her as odd that she was not more offended by the slap on her ass. His attitude was presumptuous for sure, but at least he was honest and she valued that. It was better than someone who lied to your face and then snuck around behind her back. At least she knew what Bartlett wanted and expected from her…sort of. Time would tell.
She dressed with care.She did not want to present herself as slutty, like the infamous Ginger, nor did she want to appear prudish, not that she had many sedate clothes. As a rule she always went with shorter skirts and dresses and pretty sweaters with plenty of Christmas bling.
After much consideration she chose a short, flared skirt trimmed in white fir in a shade that varied between light lavender and pale gray, depending on how the light hit it. Her matching sweater had a large glittering snowflake embroidered on the breast; the cuffs also trimmed with white fir.
In her opinion it was pretty virginal, but she figured that was appropriate even if he didn’t make advances, which could be disappointing if she thought about it. Still, she’d never been intimate with a human man, so if the shoe fit…
A bit of blush, a touch of lavender eye shadow, some mascara and her peppermint lipstick were sufficient in her opinion. Crystal snowflakes glittered on her ears and she left her hair down but pulled back at her temples with matching hairpins. Her white stockings were also spattered with a random snowflake pattern.
She wore her fluffy fur boots that made her feel as though she were walking with two puppies at her feet and bundled up in her best fur coat and hood. Santa was often very generous with his elves and the coat had cost the moon she was sure.
Bartlett Bright did not livein a chalet. He preferred the more masculine style log cabin. It had every modern convenience, but still kept its rustic charm and it suited him. A fire blazed in the big hearth, wine cooled in a silver bucket on the coffee table next to a tray of assorted cheeses and fruit. Two crystal glasses awaited her arrival and he relaxed on the leather sofa and waited. If she did not show up he had no compunction about marching to her chalet and carrying her out over his shoulder as he smacked her bottom. She needed to know right from the start what sort of man she was dealing with. Still, he let a small sigh of relief escape when she lifted the knocker on the wide front door. There was always the chance that slapping her pert bottom had scared her off. He was relieved to learn that was not the case.
“Welcome to my home,” he said as he opened the door and held out his hand. “You’re right on time.”
“You seem surprised,” she teased as she let him take her coat and slipped off her boots.
“I am, a bit,” he admitted. “I envisioned a long trek in the cold to fetch you,” he continued with a laugh.
“Would you really have done that?” she asked as her eyebrows rose in disbelief.
“I would, and I would have spanked you with each step of the way here for the inconvenience,” he stated firmly.
“That’s why I was on time,” she replied looking around the foyer. “This is lovely. Did you get to choose it yourself, or was it assigned to you?”
“I chose it. I could have had a penthouse at headquarters, but I much prefer this.”
“I can see why,” she agreed stepping down into the great room.
“Come and warm yourself by the fire,” he suggested. “It’s bitterly cold tonight. I should have sent a sleigh for you.”
