A Mistletoe Kiss with the Boss (10 page)

Of course he did.

Kristen laughed. “Mistletoe has to be overhead for it to be a legitimate reason to get a kiss.”

Then she strode toward the elevator, Mrs. Flannigan following behind, chuckling, and Arthur behind his wife.

Dean glanced at the flower arrangement, then looked up at the group, all of whom had their backs to him. And he did something he had never done. He pilfered some mistletoe.

In the limo, Kristen went back to being quiet. He let her because it was the right thing to do. They drove up Fifth Avenue, Christmas decorations glittering in the frigid night air, and he took a long drink of air. The same decorations that had reminded him of his past twinkled in the light of the streetlamps and unexpectedly warmed his heart, even as apprehension tugged at his soul.

His time with Kristen was almost at an end. And he had some decisions to make in the few minutes left of their drive to her hotel.

He debated a couple of things, but in the end, he knew Mrs. Flannigan was simply too powerful to ignore. He was going to have to take his staff to Grennady. He fingered the mistletoe in his overcoat pocket. But to keep things simple and protect Kristen, he also had to cut Kristen out of the picture.

They got out of the limo and for the first time in two days there was no paparazzi following them.

Kristen noticed too. “No press?”

“It's late and cold, and we gave them enough pictures yesterday to keep them happy.”

She said, “Ah,” as he held open the door for her.

They walked to the elevator in total silence and waited for it to arrive in equal silence.

She gave him a confused look when he followed her inside, but he said nothing. When the elevator reached her floor, he walked out with her, staying as quiet as they had in the limo.

At the door, she turned to him with a polite smile. “Thank you very much for this evening. Heck, thanks for introducing me to Mrs. Flannigan. She's wonderful. Perfect. I know that with her help my charity will be up and running in about half the time it would have taken me alone.”

He smiled. “Probably even less than that. She's very powerful.” He smiled again. “And she likes you.”

“I like her too.”

Pride for her surged through him. Not because she was great, but because she was honest. She genuinely liked Mrs. Flannigan, and with her assistance Kristen probably would changes the lives of hundreds of thousands of women, maybe millions, over her lifetime.

“You'll make a good team.”

“Thanks.”

For the first time all night, she looked him in the eye. The effect was instantaneous. Dean's heart swelled again. His breath froze in his lungs.

And he knew this had to be the last time he saw her. If he let her stay in his life, he wouldn't be able to resist this pull.

Digging her key card out of her purse, she said, “I'll be in touch when it comes time for the computers.”

“Good.”

She turned to open her door, but he stopped her. “Not so fast, Cinderella. You want me and my company in Grennady, and it looks like you've got us there.”

Her eyes widened. “Really?”

“You heard what Mrs. Flannigan said.”

She frowned. “Yes, but everybody's been saying that and you didn't appear to have taken any of them seriously.”

“Mrs. Flannigan's a brilliant businesswoman. And she wields a lot of power. Not taking her advice would be like asking her to downgrade my stock.”

“So you're moving your company to Grennady?”

“Temporarily. If my staff can finish this project before the first of the year, I will consider a permanent move.”

“But that's three weeks! And Christmas is in there!”

“Yeah. Bad luck for you. If I were you, I'd be on the phone tonight, finding office space. And I hope you have a strategy for handling Prince Alex because once we get to Grennady I'll be dealing exclusively with the royal family.”

That was how he planned to circumvent his unwanted feelings around Kristen. He would simply push her out of his life by working only with King Mason or Princess Eva. He had it all figured out.

But that didn't mean he didn't recognize that something wonderful was passing him by. He'd never before felt the way he felt around her. He knew he wasn't made for what she wanted or needed. But he also knew what he felt for her was special.
She
was special.

And he couldn't walk away without a kiss.

He fingered the chunk of mistletoe he'd taken from Mrs. Flannigan's huge display. His heartbeat slowed as his brain cleared. He deserved at least one kiss. He wasn't the guy who would get the girl. He wasn't a guy who was going to have a happily-ever-after—

But surely he was entitled to one little kiss from the first woman who made him think happily-ever-after might exist.

And even if he wasn't, he was taking one.

He pulled the mistletoe from his pocket. “You said this only works if it's overhead...right?”

Her gaze jumped to his.

He raised his arm, putting the mistletoe directly above them before he put his hand on her shoulder and stepped closer. Her eyes widened, but he didn't give her time to ponder or protest. He dipped his head and pressed his lips to hers.

CHAPTER NINE

S
URPRISE
AND
INSTINCT
caused Kristen to lift her lips and kiss him back. He took advantage and nudged a bit, encouraging her to open her mouth. When she did, he deepened the kiss and all the breath stalled in her lungs. His lips were smooth and sleek, his kiss experienced.

Desire whooshed through her. Her brain stopped. Wonderful urges spun through her. She shoved her hotel room key into her coat pocket, stepped closer and smoothed her hands up his silky shirt, over his shoulders until they met at his nape. Another half step eased her body against his chest.

It was heaven. As his hungry mouth took hers, and his hands slid down her back, then up again, the whole world slimmed down to just him and her, and spiraling sensations that made her feel dizzy and warm and just a little confused.

Then he broke the kiss and stepped back, away from her.

Kristen stared at him. Her heart beat crazily. Her thoughts sambaed. The mouth he'd just kissed so thoroughly couldn't form words.

“It was really nice to meet you, Kristen Anderson. Good luck with your charity. When the time comes, let Stella know and you'll have your computers.”

She watched his long-legged stride take him down the hall to the elevator, her entire body shimmering.

The man had kissed her!
And not like some soulless nerd, like a poet—a love-starved poet.

Her brain couldn't sort it out. He'd barely wanted to hold her hand the day before. He'd absolutely walked away from a kiss at this very same hotel room door. But tonight after she'd all but ignored him, he'd kissed her.

She didn't know what to think, except that his parting words were definitely a goodbye.

She tried not to read too much into the wistful way he'd said goodbye, and the puzzling sadness that tightened her throat as he turned a corner and disappeared from view. Each was for nothing. They both knew how this worked. No matter how attracted he might be to her, men like him didn't date ordinary girls.

They also didn't deal with assistants—even if said assistant was executive assistant to a princess. As he'd said, he'd be communicating with the royal family from here on out. When she needed her computers, she'd be talking with Stella. She'd never see or speak to him again.

She shook herself to force away the sadness that brought, and opened the door to her suite. If he and his staff planned to be in Grennady the next day, and he intended to communicate with the royal family, she couldn't spend her time wondering about a stupid kiss and a sexy, interesting, but patently unusual man. She had some calls to make.

She tossed her coat onto an available chair and found her phone. After calculating the time difference between midnight in New York and middle of the day in Xaviera, she dialed.

Princess Eva answered on the second ring.

“Kristen?”

Eva's voice was soft and sweet, but there was a thread of steel that ran through it. She might be a wonderful person, but she was a future queen. A strong woman destined to rule a country.

“Please don't fire me.”

“Fire you?” Eva laughed. “You're the best assistant I've ever had. What could you have possibly done to be fired?”

She took a long drink of air to steady her nerves, then said, “I've been watching you and Alex try to entice a tech company to Grennady.”

“Yes.”

“I also know your list had dwindled. There was no one left to contact.”

“That's a subject we intend to revisit in January.”

She swallowed. “Well, you may not have to. I approached Dean Suminski—”

“Of Suminski Stuff?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, no! Alex hates him.”

Kristen said, “I know.”

“Then why would you approach him?”

“At the time, I didn't know Alex hated him. I just thought maybe you and Alex didn't think we stood a chance with him.”

“Oh, Kristen!”

She paced into the bedroom of the suite out of the area that reminded her of Dean helping her with her coat, talking about the press, and them deciding they could “date” for real. All of that was just so confusing. In a couple of days of being with Dean Suminski, she'd really grown to like him. But he didn't want anything to do with her.

Otherwise, he wouldn't be saying goodbye...would he?

“I'm so sorry. But I swear I didn't know there was bad blood between them until Dean told me when we were on our way to a Christmas party—”

“You went to a Christmas party with Dean Suminski? He's in Grennady?”

“No, we're in New York.”

Eva gasped. “What are you doing in New York?”

“It is a long, long story, Princess.” Kristen fell to the huge king-size bed, realizing how odd this whole thing sounded. But, one step at a time, it had all made sense.

Even her feelings for him.

Inch by inch, he'd shown himself to her, and inch by inch she'd fallen for the man she genuinely believed he was deep down inside.

“I'd intended to start this explanation off with an apology for overstepping, but I now know I more than overstepped. It just seemed wrong that we never approached Suminski Stuff. So I found Dean in Paris.”

“Paris?”

“I called in a favor to get the name of his hotel, and he agreed to give me five minutes in the limo ride to his airstrip, but that didn't work out. So I was going to fly to New York to have time with him while we were in the air, but his friend was on the plane, waiting for him. He told Dean his stock was being downgraded.” She sucked in a breath. “His company's in trouble. He intends to fix it. But he has to get his latest game series to beta testers the first of the year to prove Suminski Stuff is still viable. Anyway, we were having dinner tonight with Mrs. Flannigan, a woman who owns a huge brokerage firm, who told him to get his staff somewhere quiet and peaceful and get this project done.”

“Dinner tonight? Are you dating this guy?”

She winced. “Yes.” And it had been her idea because she hated the way everyone misinterpreted him, but more because she'd wanted to date him for real. She liked him.

“You may see it in a newspaper. So, yes, we were sort of dating. But we did it so the press wouldn't think he'd paid me to go to the Christmas party because he sort of had.”

“Kristen!”

“It's not what you think. In exchange for me being his date for an important party, we signed an agreement for him to provide the first hundred-thousand-dollars' worth of computers when I start my schools.”

Eva's voice softened. “So you're leaving us to start your charity?”

“That was the point of the dinner with Mrs. Flannigan—”

“Is this Minerva Flannigan?”

“Yes. She's the first of my board of advisors.”

Eva's voice softened. “She's got a great business mind. She's the perfect choice to be on your board of advisors.”

“And of course I want you on the board too, Princess.”

Eva laughed. “My ego is not so fragile that you need to pamper me.”

“But I really do want you on this board.”

“Then I am honored.”

“But I'm also not going anywhere yet. Dean Suminski and his staff will be in Grennady tomorrow evening, our time. He needs office space. Though I could easily get it for him if I had a couple of weeks, he needs it tomorrow and I don't have that kind of clout.”

“Okay. Getting a company like Suminski Stuff into Grennady could be really good for us. Alex has been a ruler too long to let a ten-year-old problem keep him from doing the right thing, but that doesn't mean we'll poke the bear. As long as we keep Alex away from Dean Suminski everything should be fine.”

“But he expects to be dealing with the royal family.”

“And he will. He'll deal with me. I have some thoughts on how to get office space. So I'll make some calls.” Princess Eva paused. “And, Kristen?”

“Yes?”

“Be careful with this guy.”

Kristen laughed. “Right.” But remembering the way he'd kissed her shot that odd longing through her—even though she knew he had no intention of seeing her again. The way he said goodbye proved that. And she should be glad. Rich guys didn't marry commoners. They used them. Hadn't one heartbreak been enough?

She was smarter than to long for something that made no sense.

“He's got to be the grouchiest man on the face of the earth. I think I'll be fine.”

“So the accident changed him?”

“Accident?”

“Dean was a very happy sort of party guy, until Alex's girlfriend was killed after Dean—” Eva paused. Her tone went from conversational to royal in one indrawn breath. “Actually, Kristen, if Dean didn't tell you, then let's not poke that bear, either.”

“He told me.”

“Then you understand how sensitive this is.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

“I'll call in some favors to find Suminski office space. Our vacation is over in two days. There's no sense in cutting it short now. You can handle Dean and his staff for two days, right?”

Kristen said, “Yes, ma'am,” again, but she hung up the phone with the oddest feeling in her stomach. Dean might think he wouldn't see her again, but Princess Eva had just put her in charge of him.

She tried to stem the crazy bubbly feeling behind her ribs, but she couldn't. Dean might seem like the coldest man on earth to the rest of the world, but he'd confided in her, laughed with her, kissed her.

She did not want to let him go.

* * *

Dean's jet landed in Grennady four hours after the plane carrying Kristen, Stella and the portion of Suminski Stuff staff who were working on the series of games. Jason was staying in New York to do some PR and some hand-holding, so Dean had met him for breakfast before he'd flown out. But he'd been glad to have the excuse of meeting Jason, so he didn't have to spend a long flight with Kristen, tempted by another kiss, wishing circumstances in his life were different. Because his life wasn't different. It couldn't be different. He was who he was.

And damn it! Though he'd had a rough beginning and made one huge mistake involving Alexandros Sancho, he was basically a lucky guy. Mostly because that mistake with Alexandros had taught him some hard lessons. He now did nothing without forethought. Lots of forethought.

Kissing Kristen might have been the most impulsive thing he'd ever done, but it hadn't been thoughtless. He knew he'd never see her again. Even though they'd soon be in the same small country, there was a chasm of protocol between them. He'd deal with her boss because that was the level he was on. She'd deal with Stella because that was the level
she
was on. Nine chances out of ten he wouldn't even see her in passing.

He'd reasoned all that out before he'd kissed her and he'd been fine with it. But he hadn't counted on her lips being so soft or her kiss being so tempting. He hadn't counted on his head spinning and his hormones begging to take over. Still, he'd kept control. He'd stepped away like a gentleman.

And he'd eliminated a long plane ride with her by leaving for Grennady much later than his staff, and now here he was alone...

In the middle of the night.

In the frozen tundra.

Good God, it was cold!

And dark. Darker than he'd ever seen.

Of course, having grown up in the city, accustomed to streetlights, car lights and neon signs, he hadn't really been exposed to darkness.

He looked up and simply stared for a few seconds. The twinkle of a million stars, light-years away, almost stole his breath—which wouldn't be too hard to do since it was a visible puff of freezing air every time he exhaled.

Crap! It was cold!

And they'd lost a day. Considering time difference and travel across an ocean, it was late Monday night, early Tuesday morning, depending on how you looked at it. He was cold, late, and he'd had to force himself away from the first woman who'd really interested him in ten years. This trip was off to a fantastic start.

He wasted no time racing to the limo that awaited him. But instead of the driver opening the door, Kristen appeared at his side and pulled the latch to offer him entry.

“Good evening.”

He had to shake himself to keep from staring at her. He'd meticulously planned it so he'd never see her again. Yet here she was.

He took another freezing breath to give himself time to recover from the shock, to stop the tingle that sprang to his lips, to fight his eyes from drinking in the sight of her. To get himself back into work mode. To remember she was an underling to the people with whom he'd be dealing for the next six weeks. And to speak normally.

“Evening? That's what you call this?”

“Actually, it's the dead of night. I went with
evening
because I thought
good night
would sound too much like goodbye—” She stopped abruptly and winced.

Internally, he winced too. They'd already had their goodbye in the form of a really great kiss. And just the thought of that kiss kicked his heart into high gear again.

Recovering quicker than he did, she smoothly motioned him inside the white limo. “We like to think of the darkness as cozy.” She smiled. “Just wait until Christmas.”

Her smile made him want to smile. But he refused. He had no intention of getting involved with this woman—for her sake, not his—and no intention of being a bundle of emotion around her. He would speak logic, behave logically and he would be fine.

When they were inside the limo, he pointed at her parka, thick mittens and the knit hat that hid her pretty yellow hair. “You can laugh because you're all bundled up.”

“You'd think a genius would be smart enough to realize he was traveling to one of the coldest countries in the world and dress appropriately.”