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A Mistletoe Kiss with the Boss Page 12
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“Oh, really? And what do you think Winslow would have done Friday night if I’d cracked jokes when my company was in trouble?”
“Maybe thought you were human?”
“Or thought I wasn’t serious. Or thought I didn’t realize how much trouble I was in.”
“Well, I don’t care.” She reached up and linked the two straps of the hat under his chin, securing them in their catch. “I like it when you’re funny.”
He caught her hand to stop it. “You shouldn’t.”
Once again they were standing incredibly close, almost as if they couldn’t help themselves. “Why are you so determined to ignore what we feel for each other?”
“Because I’m not anybody’s knight in shining armor, Kristen.”
“Only because you were hurt.”
“And that turned me into the kind of guy who isn’t made for relationships.”
He didn’t have the look of longing that usually came to his eyes when they stood this close. For a few seconds, she missed it, and then she understood what he was saying. Away from the trouble that threw them together in the first place, he was in control again.
And maybe he didn’t like her as much as she’d thought.
She cleared her throat. “Now that you have a coat, you should go out. Go find your people on the ski slopes. Have some fun.”
“Yeah, Dean, maybe you should.”
Kristen whipped around to see Dean’s right-hand man, Jason, standing in the doorway. Dressed in a colorful sweater that made his twenty or so extra pounds all the more obvious, he sauntered into the room, holding a cup of coffee.
Dropping her hand, Dean said, “What are you doing here?”
“Stella’s down for the count.” He shrugged. “She’s got a few days of really good drugs for the pain and then six weeks in some sort of boot thing, then a few weeks of rehab.”
Dean winced. “Ouch.”
“Yeah, she says ‘ouch’ a lot.” He laughed. “Anyway, I thought you might need me. So I flew over.”
“Thank God.” Dean breathed an insulting sigh of relief, as if Kristen didn’t cut it as his assistant. “I do need you. This is where the royal family decided we should work.”
Jason didn’t answer. He glanced at Kristen.
Kristen held her breath. One wrong word from Jason and she’d be looking for another place for them, and she didn’t have the clout of a princess.
Jason glanced around, took a sip of coffee and said, “I like it.”
Dean scowled.
Kristen’s heart about exploded with relief.
“Winslow Osmond said the staff needed a change of scenery, but I was thinking maybe we need a change in the way we’re doing things too,” Jason said. “What can it hurt to have all the key players in the same room?”
“They could kill each other.”
Jason shrugged off his boss’s concern. “Or they could learn to work together.” He ambled over to Dean. He pinched a bit of the sleeve of the parka. “What’s this?”
“A coat, gloves and some hat thing,” Dean said, peering at Kristen as if the coat and hat had somehow ruined his life.
Jason nodded. “I like them.” He caught Dean’s gaze. “So technically you could go skiing.”
Dean just looked at him.
Jason faced Kristen. “Truth be told, he’s not a skier. But he used to be hell with a snowboard.”
“Used to being the operative words,” Dean said.
But Kristen pictured a much younger Dean, in a cooler coat and a trendy knit cap. Having seen him laugh, she guessed he’d probably laughed on the slopes, that he’d loved the challenge of the snowboard and the rush of speed as he flew down winding hills. Once again her heart ached that one tragic episode in his life had taken a probably happy young man and turned him into someone afraid to live.
Jason smiled. “You know what? You might not want to jump on a snowboard today, but you should get out and see the town.” He turned to Kristen. “Your capital is amazing.”
Kristen said, “Thank you. Most of the buildings have been around for centuries.”
Jason nodded. “You don’t see craftsmanship like that anymore.” He pivoted to face Dean. “You need to go out and see some of this.” Then back to Kristen. “Kristen, would you take him?”
Kristen said, “I can’t,” at the same time that Dean said, “We have work to do.”
Jason waved both hands. “Oh, garbage, you two. You’ll work tonight. Or tomorrow when our wayward staff is scheduled to be here. Go now, while you still have—” He glanced at his watch. “What? Four hours of sunlight?”
“That’s about it,” Kristen agreed.
“Good.” He faced Dean. “It’s not so long that you’ll get bored. But it’s enough time to see some of the sights. And clear your head. Get some fresh air into those lungs.”
Dean’s scowl grew.
Jason faced Kristen. “Whether he understands it or not, he’s going to want to compliment your king and princess when they return from their holiday in Xaviera. Give him a little bit of a history lesson so he can speak intelligently.”
“No. I’m not going anywhere.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
DEAN’S REFUSAL RANG through the quiet work space. Jason took a step back, as if he knew he’d pushed too far.
But Kristen sucked in a hard breath. Dean had hurt her, and he’d done it deliberately, but he decided that’s what she needed to see. The demanding, difficult side of him that everybody thought was the real him.
She turned and headed for the door. “If you need anything I’ll be in the palace.”
He didn’t say goodbye. He didn’t say anything. He waited for her to leave, and then he faced Jason. “Get maintenance back here. I want this room and the one up the hall ready for work when that blasted sun goes down.”
With that he exited, heading up the hall to the elevator that would take him to his penthouse suite. When the door opened on the modern space with red sofas and black and white accent pieces, he wrestled out of the big coat he didn’t want and threw the damned hat at the cold fireplace.
He wasn’t just angry that Kristen kept pushing him to be the person he was deep down inside. He was angry that he couldn’t be that guy.
He got on the phone and made some calls and forgot all about Kristen Anderson. But when the sun went down and his employees began returning, laughing, happy, more enthusiastic than he’d seen them in weeks, guilt set in. When an hour went by with everybody getting along, making accommodations for each other in the unusual work space and sharing ideas for what they should do next with the games, the guilt tripled.
Winslow and Mrs. Flannigan had been right. They needed this time somewhere different, somewhere they could relax, somewhere their creativity could be nurtured. Kristen had found him, essentially had made this four-week getaway possible, and he’d thanked her by treating her like dirt.
* * *
After dinner with her family, Kristen went upstairs and opened her laptop. Mrs. Flannigan had given her a list of people to consider for her board of advisors but before she approached anyone she wanted to know a bit about them.
But reading resumes for and articles about people who were wealthy because they were brilliant, only reminded her of Dean. How she’d wanted him to be the playful guy she’d uncovered in New York and how he’d bitten her head off. It hadn’t taken a real yelling session. She’d gotten the message from the way he’d said no to a tour with her.
It had stung, though. Because deep down she believed he liked her. And it stung even more, because deep down she had more feelings for him than she’d let herself admit.
The sound of sleigh bells penetrated the haze of her thoughts, then two male voices, and she frowned. Her family’s farm was far enough off the beate
n path that no one “accidentally” drove or walked by. She rose from her desk and looked out the window.
At the edge of the road was a pretty red sleigh decorated with yellow flowers and green leaves. The driver sat on the bench seat, holding the reins of a chestnut mare. Dean Suminski sat in the backseat.
She spun around and raced out of her room and down the stairs to the front door, so thrilled to see him that she didn’t care why he’d chosen a sled to come to her house. She hadn’t been wrong about his feelings for her, and that, once again, quadrupled her feelings for him.
With a laugh, she whipped open the door. “What are you doing?”
Walking up to the porch of her parents’ house, he wore the big blue parka and the hat, with the flaps over his ears. He angled his thumb toward the sleigh. “This is an apology.”
Her heart stumbled. The great Dean Suminski apologized? “For what?”
“I was a bit nastier in my refusal of a tour of your capital than I wanted to be.”
Her heart stuttered. “A bit nastier? Did you intend to be nasty?”
He sighed. “No. I just felt overwhelmed.”
She could have said, “Overwhelmed by what?” and forced the issue that he was having trouble with the fact that he wanted to be himself around her. Except he was here. Outside the door of her parents’ house...with a sleigh! He wanted to see her. He didn’t need to say the words. And she didn’t need to push for them.
“So is everything going okay at the hotel?”
“Yes.” He nodded at her white sweater and jeans. “You’re freezing without a coat. Go get one. We’ll talk while we ride.”
He turned and began walking back to the sleigh. She spun around, raced into her house and grabbed her coat, hat and mittens.
Her mother, a tall, thin blonde wearing a colorful apron over jeans, walked into the front hall. “Kristen? Did I hear you talking to someone?”
“Dean Suminski, the guy I went to New York with...he’s here with a sleigh.”
Her mom frowned. “The man working at the hotel?”
Sliding into her coat, she nodded.
Her mom said, “You should invite him to dinner.”
Kristen froze. Invite him to dinner? Have him meet her parents? That would probably freak him out. “Didn’t we already eat?”
“I didn’t mean tonight. I meant tomorrow or Friday,” her mom said with a laugh. Then she shooed her out the door. “Go. Have fun.”
Kristen raced out onto the big front porch of her family’s old farmhouse and down the three steps to the snow-covered sidewalk. Dean stood by the sleigh. When she reached him, he helped her climb inside, then pulled himself in behind her.
The air was crisp, the night freezing cold, but, God help her, to her it felt just plain magical. Every step he took was a step closer to him being the man he was supposed to be, the man who could love her.
She slowed her thoughts. Told her brain to settle down. He was a broken man. A man who’d grown up without love, whose first love had used him. She wasn’t going to wave a magic wand and he’d be normal again. His wounds might be healing, but he would need time to learn to trust again.
Still, she knew her heart was racing ahead of things because she had feelings for him far beyond anything she’d ever felt. If she wanted this, wanted him, and she did, she had to take her time. Give him a way to get to know her enough that he’d trust her with his heart. Not rush. Not nudge. Just enjoy the sleigh ride.
After all...he was here, wasn’t he?
Spreading a thick blanket over both of their legs, he said, “I actually learned how to drive the sleigh from the internet. YouTube.”
She glanced over, saw he was serious and laughed. “So why aren’t you driving?”
“Clyde up there,” he said, pointing to their driver, “knows his way around the countryside. I don’t.”
“Good point.”
Powdery snow muffled the clip-clop of the horse’s hooves, but caused the sleigh blades to make a swoosh, swoosh, swoosh noise as the sled moved along. A light in the front illuminated twenty or so feet ahead, but otherwise her world, her county, was dark and silent.
Dark, freezing cold and silent.
The kind of cold where two people who shouldn’t like each other, shouldn’t belong together, could snuggle under a cover and get to know each other.
She slid her arm beneath his, nestled close, seeking his warmth but also basking in the chance to touch him.
“So tell me more about what you did today.”
“Being this far away from the US and being plunged into darkness more hours of the day than any human being should have to endure has had an odd effect on me.”
She cuddled closer. “Let’s not forget that it’s cold.”
He stiffened, but he said, “It is cold.” Then he slowly relaxed beside her, as if he couldn’t deny he wanted the closeness too, and using the cold as an excuse made that easier. “But it seems to work. The employees came back today more energetic than I’ve seen them in months.”
He leaned back, relaxed. Saying all that out loud seemed to have helped it to sink in that everything was working out.
“I’m glad we could help.”
“It’s just...” He turned to look at her. “Unexpected.”
She couldn’t have said it any better herself. What was happening between them was unexpected. But maybe that was part of the attraction. She was an unsophisticated country girl. He was a guy who had pulled himself up by his talent and his genius and made himself one of the most important men in the business world. But they clicked.
They rode through the silent night for about twenty minutes with her prodding him with questions, getting him to talk about his work.
“Jason thinks I should stop the US calls when the team comes in off the slopes. And forget about Asia until we get home. He says the team wasn’t just energetic because they’d had fun on the ski slopes. He thinks they respond positively to having me around.” He stole a peek at her. “Normally, I’m in my office four floors above them and they work on their own. Today, I spent time in the meeting room, asking questions, giving suggestions.” He shrugged. “It was fun. Like the old days.”
“Maybe you should spend more time with them.”
“I haven’t touched that part of the company in years.”
“That’s interesting since they’ve been stuck for years.”
He shook his head. “If you’re hinting that they need me, don’t. I’ve hired the best in the business. They don’t need me.”
“And yet...here they are...stuck.”
He sniffed a laugh and she let the subject die, knowing she’d gotten her point across.
As the night got colder, their blanket drifted higher, to their chins. She reveled in the way he talked, the sound of his voice, the quiet trust. The sleigh turned around, headed back, and she knew she had only another twenty minutes.
When he asked how her day had been, she returned the favor of being honest with him the way he’d been with her. “When the princess is away I’m bored. I have nothing to do but check her email a few times a day to make sure nothing that comes in is a crisis.” She peeked at him. “And as small as we are, we get a crisis about once every ten years.”
He laughed. “Too bad you can’t code.”
“Really?” She knew he hadn’t intended to take them down this road, but this was the heart of why she always wanted to be around him and why he’d brought a sleigh to her house in the dead of night. And maybe it was time they talked about it.
“You think it’s a bad thing that we’re different?”
He faced her, held her gaze for a few seconds.
When she couldn’t take the honest scrutiny anymore, she whispered, “Admit it. Part of the attraction is that we’re nothing alike.”
He looked around her frozen countryside. “We might have been raised differently and have two different ways in which we want to change the world.” He met her gaze again. “But we both want to change the world.”
“So? That just means we’re enough alike that we understand each other, but different enough that we’re interesting.”
He shook his head. The sleigh silently swooshed to a stop in front of her parents’ farmhouse.
“Maybe. I don’t know.”
He appeared genuinely perplexed. She supposed if someone tossed a monkey wrench into her life she’d be confused too. But even with the totally baffled expression on his face, he was handsome, strong. She couldn’t resist leaning forward and touching her lips to his. She stayed there a second, giving him time to respond and he did. Under their blanket, his hands came up to her shoulders to pull her close so he could deepen the kiss.
And she realized this was what she’d been waiting for her whole life. The magic prince she didn’t believe existed wasn’t a guy on a white horse; he was someone who understood her. Someone she understood. An equal.
She broke the kiss and slid out from under the cover, bolting out of the sleigh before he had a chance to get out into the cold when he didn’t have to.
They were falling in love. Real love.
She turned and waved. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Then she pivoted around and ran into her house. Her blood racing. Her knees a little weak. But her heart happy as well as terrified.
They clicked. That’s why everything felt so different when they were together.
But she had only four weeks to get him to see it.
And even if he did, he’d have to brave a whole new world of communication and honesty. He might not be capable of having the kind of relationship she needed.
CHAPTER TWELVE
THE NEXT DAY Dean woke feeling happy, refreshed. Jason joined him in the penthouse suite for breakfast.
After room service wheeled in their cart, Jason said, “So where’d you go last night?”
Dean kept his attention on his tablet. He’d pulled up the Wall Street Journal and was reading the highlights of the day’s financial news.