A Mistletoe Kiss with the Boss (7 page)

“Wouldn't we have to draw up another agreement for that?”

He sighed. “I'm not that bad.”

“No. But for a guy who talks about balance you certainly don't see my side of the story.”

“And what side is that?”

“That I don't want to take gifts. I have some pride. And I have a job. I can afford to buy my own clothes. I just can't afford to buy them in this shop.”

“Okay.”

Her eyebrows rose. “You're losing another argument?”

He shook his head. “No. I'm doing what you told me to do. I'm seeing your side of things.”

“Good.”

“Good.”

He directed her to walk to the checkout, where Jen stood beaming. He guessed she worked on commission.

She scanned the tag on the black knit dress and a black wool coat. “I noticed that your coat is hip length and to wear a dress you'll need a longer one.” She smiled hopefully. “I picked the most useful, inexpensive coat we have.”

Kristen nodded.

Jennifer scanned the tag of a pair of black stilettoes. She looked up at Kristen. “I remembered your shoe size from yesterday. The shoes you wore under the gown had such a small heel. I think you'll need these.”

This time Kristen sighed.

Dean quietly said, “I don't know a lot about women's shoes but we've trusted Jennifer so far. If she says you need the shoes, you probably need the shoes.”

Kristen rolled her eyes.

Jennifer shoved the shoes into a shopping bag, then picked up a pair of jeans and a bright red sweater.

“I hope those are for Stella.”

He cleared his throat. “You know you need something to fly home in.”

She eyed the red sweater.

Dean saw the flicker of longing that sparked in her eyes before she could bank it, and he said a word he didn't often say. “Please.” What was the point of having money if he couldn't spend it to make someone happy?

She faced him. “It's not a gift? It's not you saying thank you to me? It's a necessity?”

He nodded. “Absolutely. Unless you want to wash out your blouse in the sink of your hotel room.”

“I'd considered it.”

“And it would dry wrinkled.”

She drew in a breath. “Okay. I do feel a little slimy in these clothes.”

“Good. I mean, not good that you're slimy. Because you don't look slimy. Good that you can get a shower and fly home refreshed.”

Kristen rolled her eyes and looked away.

A strange relief poured through him, followed by something he almost didn't recognize. Pride. She'd really wanted that sweater and he'd bought it for her. It gave him the most amazingly wonderful feeling.

As Jennifer lifted the sweater and jeans off the counter and slid them into the bag, a black lace bra and panties revealed themselves.

The store clerk winced. “You did say to get everything she needed.”

His heart kicked against his ribs. He could see tall, slender, nicely endowed Kristen in the black bra and panties...and the black stilettos. He tried to say, “Maybe another color would be better,” but it came out, “Navy anubber color would 'e 'etter.”

Kristen looked at him through her peripheral vision. “You don't like black?”

Good God, he loved the black. But he realized that he'd have to sit through an entire lunch with several influential people, knowing she had black lace panties and bra under that dress.

He tugged at the collar of his sweater, but said, “Get whatever color you want.”

She faced Jennifer. “I'll keep the black.”

He had his chauffeur drive them to her hotel and carried her bags up to her suite for her. She opened the door with her key card and let him enter first.

“Where do you want these?”

“The chair will do.”

He set the bags on the chair and headed for the door. “I'll be back in about two hours.”

She nodded and he left breathing a long sigh of relief. He would go to his penthouse, take a cold shower and return a calm man, who would not, absolutely would not, remember the sexy black lace panties and bra she'd have under that sedate dress.

CHAPTER SIX

D
EAN
WAS
QUIET
when he picked Kristen up at her hotel room at noon. The drive to the restaurant was also quiet, and Kristen was glad. It wasn't that she was angry about him buying her clothes. It was that he was so flippant about doing everything he wanted, but anything she did had to be part of an agreement.

When they walked into the restaurant, Dean didn't even say his name. The maître d' smiled and waved him forward, leading them to a private room in the back. Decorated for the holiday with evergreen branches bathed in white twinkle lights and a sophisticated poinsettia centerpiece on the large round table, the warm space welcomed them.

As Winslow had said, the group was small. Eight men in dark suits like Dean's. Eight women in everything from elegant skirts and jackets to slimming sheaths. In her black knit dress, Kristen fit in as if she belonged there.

But she didn't. She and Dean entered to a conversation about European vacations, and Kristen suddenly felt like a bumpkin. She was twenty-four, the executive assistant to a princess, who did have a degree, and who wanted to start a foundation that would build schools—but who knew no one. She'd been nowhere...

Well, except to Paris, where she'd picked up with this gorgeous, crazy, somewhat obsessive-compulsive guy, and was now pretending to be his date.

As Dean made introductions, she smiled and said, “It's a pleasure to meet you all,” reminding herself that this was part of her new reality. She had to learn to schmooze prospective donors, speak intelligently about her cause and find support.

Dean pulled out her chair and she sat. He sat beside her.

Mrs. Arthur Flannigan, a woman who looked to be in her eighties, leaned across the table. “Julia tells me you work for Princess Eva of Grennady.”

“Yes, I'm her executive assistant.”

“Sounds exciting.”

Kristen laughed nervously. Everybody assumed that because she worked for a woman who would someday be a queen, she had a fantastic job and glamorous life. But it was Eva who traveled while Kristen stayed behind and kept up with emails.

“Some days my work is exciting. Other days, it's just like any other assistant's job.”

Dean slid his arm across the back of her chair. “Kristen is about to leave her post to begin organizing a charity that will build schools in third world countries.”

Mrs. Flannigan's eyes lit. “Really? That's quite an undertaking.”

“Having worked for a princess,” Dean said, “she's up on world politics. She knows what she's getting into.”

Kristen sat a little taller. Not only did it feel right to have his arm around her, but also he seemed genuinely proud of her. She might not travel, but she did know world politics. Working for Eva had taught her a lot. Now she just had to figure out how to use it.

“I hear your company is in a spot of trouble,” Mrs. Flannigan said, changing the subject as she smiled at Dean.

He shrewdly returned her smile. “Nothing I can't handle.”

Winslow leaned toward Mrs. Flannigan. “Kristen and Dean met because she flew to Paris to get time with him to persuade him to relocate Suminski Stuff to Grennady.”

Mrs. Flannigan's face brightened. “Really? Well, my dear, you are quite the adventurer.”

All the pride she'd felt fled as her chest tightened. No matter how much she'd seen working for Eva, she wasn't really an adventurer. She was a shy woman with a big goal, who milked cows and baled hay. And being in this room, with a small group of influential people, she suddenly wondered about her sanity. How the hell did she ever think she could start a charity that would change the world?

Dean's arm slid from the back of her chair to her shoulders. The reassuring feeling that she wasn't alone pumped air back into her lungs and restarted her breathing.

“She's not much of an adventurer, but she's got a heart of gold and I'm watching her grow more confident by the day. I have no doubt she can do this.”

His belief in her revived her confidence. But she also realized this was the second time he'd spoken as if he knew her. Or at least knew things about her. The first time had been the day they'd met, on the plane, when he'd told Jason about her economics degree. He could have looked that up. He could have also guessed she was growing in confidence from the changes in the way she dealt with him since she'd first approached him in Paris. But her heart of gold? How would he know that?

They spent three hours with the business people and their spouses. It had surprised Kristen to learn Mrs. Flannigan, not Arthur, was the owner of the brokerage firm that didn't want to downgrade Dean's stock. They wanted him to get his prototype to another round of beta testers and roll it out, which was why Winslow had invited him to this lunch.

The group had ideas for how Dean could jump-start his staff's creativity. Winslow had even suggested that Dean should consider temporarily moving the team to Grennady, if only for the next six weeks or so, to get them away from the daily grind and hopefully motivate them. Especially since it would give him a chance to investigate a permanent move.

Kristen's ears had perked up at that, but Dean had blown off the idea. By the time they got back into the limo for the drive home, her head spun. First, she knew Winslow's idea was a good one. Why not send the Suminski Stuff team to Grennady to finish the project? Then she and Princess Eva would have tons of time to persuade him to move there permanently. Except Dean didn't like Prince Alex. Or, as Dean had said, Prince Alex didn't like him. Second, she hadn't forgotten the way he knew things about her and dropped facts at the oddest times. And while part of her itched to ask him about that, her mission for her country was more important.

“You should move your people to Grennady for the next six weeks. Let them celebrate Christmas on our snow-covered ski slopes and get refreshed enough that they can finish your project.”

“It will take more than ski slopes to get my people moving. Winslow was being optimistic when he suggested that.”

“Or maybe he's right.”

“You just want me in your country for six weeks so you can give me a hard sell.”

She should have realized he would see right through that and winced. “Would it be so bad?”

“I already told you Alex hates me.”

“Why?”

He caught her gaze and smiled. “Must be my sparkling personality.”

He'd made another joke? She struggled not to gape at him.

“You're a nice guy.” Even as the words came out of her mouth she knew she meant them. He was a nice guy. A good guy. A very, very smart guy. But a guy who was deep down, very nice. “Something happened between you and Alex.”

When he didn't answer, she sighed. “You have a best friend that you've kept the whole way since middle school. You must have looked me up on the internet because you know things about me, and you remember them enough to get them into the right places in the conversation. That's not just smart, it's considerate. I'm thinking your reputation for being mean is highly exaggerated.”

He peeked over at her again. “Or maybe you bring out the best in me.”

In the silence of the limo, their gazes locked. Her heart stumbled in her chest. The warmth of connection flowed through her. Even as it filled her with wonder, it scared her to death. They were using each other. He was buying her things she didn't want. They were making friends under false pretenses. So why did they keep having these odd, intimate moments that felt honest?

Dean quietly said, “You did really well at that lunch. I sometimes see your confidence dip, but it shouldn't.”

“And how would you know?”

“For starters, you have a natural poise. But I also talked to a few people. Everyone says you're full of energy and dedication.” He frowned. “Though I have to admit I am curious about the cause you chose.”

She said nothing, a little tired of the way he knew so much more about her than she knew about him.

“You're not going to share?”

“I'll tell you that story, if you tell me a story about you.”

“Okay. Go ahead.”

“Oh, no. I know this scam. I'll tell you how I chose my charity and suddenly the limo will be at the hotel and you'll stay Mr. Mysterious.”

He laughed. “Mr. Mysterious?”

She shrugged. “That's how you look to me. If it isn't in your bio, I don't know it.”

“All right. I'll go first. What do you want to know?”

“I want to know what happened between you and Alex.”

He winced. “Right for the jugular. You couldn't settle for hearing the story of how I was a poor kid, raised by a grandmother who was too tired for another child, who got underwear for Christmas?”

She knew he'd meant to be funny, but once again she could hear the sadness in his voice and picture him as a little boy, alone, quiet. She was suddenly very grateful Jason had come into his life, and wished with all her heart that he had other people in his life, so many that he'd never be alone again.

“I can guess what you went through as a child.” Her gaze crawled over to meet his. “But it's hard for me to understand how Prince Alex dislikes you when he loves everybody.”

“I tried to steal his girlfriend.”

Kristen couldn't help it. She laughed. “That's not enough to make him hate you.”

“It's a much longer story.” He took an exaggerated breath. “He had a girlfriend, Nina, who was the daughter of a Saudi prince I was schmoozing for funding when I first started out. Nina came into her dad's office one day when I was there. She smiled at me, and the prince thought this was a good opportunity to get his daughter away from Alex, who, at the time, was a gambler.”

“Her dad wanted you to put a wedge between them?”

“Actually, her dad thought she and I were better suited for each other. And though he didn't say the words, he more or less tied his investing into my company to me hanging around Nina, trying to steer her away from Alex.”

“That's awful.”

“It isn't, when you remember that Alex wasn't a nice guy. He was the spoiled prince of a filthy rich country. He had access to more money than God and did what he wanted, including take Nina for granted and ignore her most days.”

Though it was difficult to picture Alex that way, Kristen had to admit she'd heard those rumors.

“At first, I just started showing up at the places Nina frequented. Bars. The marina. A club or two. Then she accepted a date.” He cleared his throat. “I fell head over heels in love with her, but she was only using me to make Alex jealous. And it worked. He stopped gambling, started paying attention to her and proposed.”

Kristen's heart sank, as little pieces of things began to fall together in her head. Not just about Dean being an inexperienced kid hanging around jet-setters, who now had a rule about not mixing business with pleasure, but also about Prince Alex. She remembered the princess telling her that Alex had had his heart broken when he was younger, when his fiancée had died.

The magnitude of the loss almost overwhelmed her and she whispered, “Nina died, didn't she?”

Dean quietly said, “In a boating accident after an argument with me. For a while Xaviera's royal guard investigated me, but I was nowhere near the dock or her boat. But I'd been with her that morning. She called me to have breakfast with her, to let me down easy, and she'd told me about the engagement, showed me the ring. I was flabbergasted and confused, and she admitted to using me. Young and stupid, I argued that she loved me, but she disabused me of that notion really quickly. She loved Alex. I had been a pawn. I felt like an idiot.” He met her gaze. “I
was
an idiot. Then I heard she'd been killed driving her boat recklessly, and I fell into a depression so deep I thought I'd never come out. Not just because she was dead but because I was so crazy about her that I didn't see she was using me. It was humbling and humiliating because the story got around really quickly. I left Xaviera. Hell, I left Europe. I came back to New York, licking my wounds and vowed it would never happen again. None of it.”

“I'm sorry.”

He sniffed a laugh. “You had your wake-up call with the boyfriend who wanted an in with your princess, but mine was a lot costlier. A lot harder to handle. In some respects, I don't think you ever recover when someone so young dies.”

“No, you don't. I'm starting the school project because of a friend who died. The schools were her dream.”

He frowned. “Your schools are someone else's idea?”

She nodded. “Yes.” The limo pulled up to the curb outside her hotel. Kristen continued anyway.

“Aasera lived in Iraq. Her brothers were educated but she wasn't. She begged them to teach her to read and write and they did. She said it opened up a whole new world for her and she decided that she wanted to create schools for girls.”

“And you picked up her crusade?”

“After she was killed by a suicide bomber.”

“Oh, I'm sorry.” Dean reached across and took her hand. “There aren't a lot of people who can say they understand and really mean it.” He held her gaze. “But I do.”

She could see in the depths of his dark eyes that he did understand, and she felt another one of those clicks of connection. This one more important than attraction or likes and dislikes. They'd both suffered a tragedy that had changed them. It was no wonder she kept feeling they meshed.

“I do this to honor her, but also because knowing her, hearing about her dream, I learned how important it was.” She shrugged. “Her cause is now my cause.”

The shrill sound of Dean's phone invaded the quiet. He winced. “It's the one I have to answer.”

She nodded, glad for a few seconds to pull herself together before they said goodbye. Because this was it. They no longer had a reason to stay together. She'd gone to his party and lunch and both were over. Winslow Osmond wanted him to take his team to Grennady, but he didn't see the value in doing that. This time tomorrow he'd go back to being the ruthless businessman he always was and she'd be home, getting ready to step onto the world's stage as a founder of an organization that built schools.