Naughty or Nice (3 page)

“Not likely...considering
I’m
the ‘real ass’ of an owner.”

“Wait a minute.” Samantha’s brow knitted together, and she attempted to clear the fog of her ‘Tini hangover. Not an easy task, mind you. “Isn’t this Stowe’s Boutiques?”

He arched a sleek black brow. “No. Stowe’s Boutiques is two towns over. You’re in Redemption, Massachusetts, and this is Snow’s Antiques. I’m Nathan Snow.”

Total shock followed by full-blown panic seized every cell in Samantha’s body. When she finally picked her jaw up off the floor, she said in barely more than a whisper, “And I’m Samantha Darling, the biggest idiot of them all.”

Chapter Two

The
Nathan Snow?

The significance of his name hit Samantha square in the face, and she reeled backward. No wonder he’d looked familiar. How could she not have recognized him? Apparently her subconscious had, because that’s the name she’d slurred off the night before. Bile hit her throat. He was on all the covers of both the business and entertainment magazines, listed as one of the wealthiest men in the Northeast, and one of the most eligible bachelors. Of all the shops to ransack, she had to go and choose one owned by a man with such a cold and ruthless reputation. She fell back on Santa’s lap in a stunned state of shock.

Ms. Pit shrieked, “Don’t sit there, you imbecile! You have no idea what you’ve done. Now go and ‘carefully’ change out of Mrs. Claus’s clothes. Those are antiques. Vintage antiques. As in one of a kind. They cost a fortune, and I’d like to try to salvage the material before you ruin them completely.”

“I’m so sorry. I had no idea.” Samantha struggled to
get up.

When she couldn’t, Nathan reached out a large, masculine h
and and helped her to her feet.

“Thanks,” Samantha sai
d, barely able to look at him.

“I’d say it’s my pleasure, but I’d be lying,” he added.

“Guess I deserved that.” She wobbled over to Mrs. C and started to undress her, but Nathan stilled her with his hand on her arm, his long tapered fingers squeezing just enough to
let her know he meant business.

“Please, allow my manager.” He grunted. “I insist. You’ve d
one enough damage for one day.”

Samantha dropped her hand and had to stand there like a doofus while Ms. Pit removed Samantha’s bra, thong and garters from Mrs. C. She handed them to Samantha and pointed the way to the bathroom for her to change. So much for closure. Samantha had a feeling this new chapter in her life had only just begun.

Five minutes later, she emerged from the bathroom in back and handed Nathan Mrs. C’s clothes. While Ms. Pit redressed both Mrs. C and the elves, Nathan told the town’s people to go, except for the judge and the sheriff who remained in the front of the store with Ms. Pit in case Nathan needed them. Nathan guided Samantha into his office to talk. She sat down while he towered above her, and she told him her whole sappy story. He just stood there, staring at her for what felt like ten minutes.

“This is what I propose,” he said at last. “I won’t have you arrested,” she started to say thank you, relief flooding through her, but he held up a hand, “for now. It’s Christmas, and contrary to popular belief, I’m not a Scrooge. Just because I don’t like Christmas, doesn’t mean I don’t have a heart.”

“How can you not like Christmas?” She gaped at him, her relief short lived.

“That’s neither here nor there,” he responded. “The point is I have a business to run. Winning the Best Christmas Window Display contest brings a lot of shoppers into the winner’s store. More shoppers means more business. Not to mention, I’m sick of Nancy’s Knickkna
cks beating me out every year.”

His eyes took on a challenging gleam. “I come back to Redemption for the holidays every year specifically for this contest. This is where it all began for me, yet I have never won. This was supposed to be my year, but because of you, I have to start all over. You come up with a winning display by Christmas Eve, and I won’t press charges.”

Samantha leaned back, feeling like such a heel, but this was the holidays. The greatest of all holidays. Surely, he would understand. “Look, this is absolutely mortifying. I am not a drinker. Whatever was in that peppermint martini must have made me lose my mind, because I am not a girl who commits crimes. Chalk it up to a moment of weakness, if you will. The point is I will do
whatever to make this up to you
...
but I always go home for Christmas a week early. And this is
my
year to put the star on top of the tree. There has to be something we can work out.”

“You sure this isn’t about payback because I shot you down last night? Maybe you figured out who I was, looked me up, and took out your revenge.” He leaned in until his face hovered only a few inches above hers, his hands fencing her in as they gripped the armrests of her chair. “Or maybe you were trying to finish what you started last night.”

Samantha gasped. “I-I am
not
that kind of girl, all right?” She swallowed hard, her throat suddenly dry with all that raw sexuality so close to her over-sensitized body.

“Right.” His breath fanned over her face as his gaze slowly traced her features, landing on her lips and remaining. “That’s why you openly flirted with me from across the bar.”

“I did not flirt. My well-meaning, spontaneous, totally reckless, idiot friends did. I am
never
spontaneous.” Samantha pressed her back further in her chair.

He simply leaned in another inch. “So you’re saying what you did to my Christmas display was premeditated?”

“No! Of course not.” She ducked under his arm and stood, her heart imitating the little drummer boy.

“Really, because I’ve never seen some of the positions those elves were in.” He straightened and slowly stalked her like a predator after its prey, backing her up against his office wall. “I must admit what they were doing to Mrs. Claus was damn creative. Looked like it took a lot of thought to me.”

“Liquor. It took a lot of liquor,” she squeaked, her chest heaving as she tried to find a way to escape. “No rational thoughts involved,” she added, more to remind herself her dreams of the two of them reenacting those positions all night long had been completely irrational as well. “I’m telling you, that wasn’t me last night. That was someone I don’t even recognize.”

“Oh, I recognize her. I’ve seen her kind before.”

“I’m sure you have, Mr. Snow.” She’d read all about his reputation, but she had no intention of becoming another notch on his belt. “But I can assure you, she’s long gone.”

“So now you’re a tease?” He tucked a loose curl behind her ear.

Her traitorous body trembled. “What do you expect me to say, let’s do it right here right now? Fine, then.” She thrust her chin up a notch and crossed her arms. “Strip.”

“As you wish.” He slowly loosened his tie, pulling it off and draping it around her neck then undid the top button of his black silk shirt.

“Oh my God, I was joking!” She flattened her body against the wall.

“I’m not.” He undid the second button, slowly letting the rest of the buttons slide out of the holes. His dress shirt fell open, revealing a fine sprinkling of hair beneath his white undershirt. He slid his hand beneath the hem of his undershirt and slowly lifted it above a tanned set of six pack abs.

Wow. Who knew
that
had been hidden beneath a mere shirt. Her fingers itched to touch him, but that would lead to a whole lot of something she wasn’t ready for. “L-Look.” Samantha tried not to stare as he released the T-shirt on a grin and shrugged broad shoulders out of the sleeves of his dress shirt and stood before her, his upper torso nearly bare and absolutely glorious. “I’m not a tease, an
d I’m not a prude. I’m just not
...
her.” She tore her gaze away from pectoral muscles she was dying to run her nails over and fisted her hands.

Nathan hesitated for a long moment and finally took a step back, releasing his spellbinding hold on her. Samantha nearly swooned but caught herself, sucking in a cleansing breath of air. He went to a wardrobe closet and pulled out a cashmere sweater--in black, of course--then slipped it over his head, the muscles in his wide back flexing and contracting with each movement. He must have caught her accusing glare, but he just chuckled and dropped his silk shirt in a basket
that read dry cleaning for Roz.

“That’s a shame you’re not her, but she still has to pay for her crimes,” he said once h
e was fully covered, thank God.

Samantha shook off the insane effect he had on her. “She will, I promise, just as
soon as the holidays are over.”

“Sorry.
You
should have thought of that before you decided to break into my shop.” His face turned hard and unreadable once more. “You can go home on Christmas Eve so long as I win the contest.”

He had every right to be mad at her, but she couldn’t get over his unwillingness to compromise and his hot and cold behavior. “Wow, you really are a Scrooge,” slipped out of her mouth before she could stop it. She tried to cover her harsh words by adding, “Don’t you have an
yone you spend Christmas with?”

His face darkened even more, if that was possible, and he ignored her question. “Wally, you can read Ms. Darling her rights,” he hollered out into the store. “Looks like she’s choosing jail after all.”

“Wait,” she yelped, holding her head again as another sharp pain pierced her skull. “I said you were a Scrooge, I didn’t say I was stupid. I’ll stay, and I’ll create a display even grumpy old you will like. I mean, Redemption can’t be worse than jail, right?”

He shrugged. “That remains to be seen.”

“One week you say?” She squared her shoulders, unable to stop her stubborn streak from emerging no matter how freaked out she was over what might happen to her.

Nathan nodded. “Think you can handle it?”

“In my sleep.” She patted her mouth as she faked a yawn.

A spark of something--admiration maybe--flashed in his otherwise unreadable eyes, and his lips tipped up ever so slightly.

“Aha!” She pointed her finger at him, the resulting pain in her hea
d worth his puzzled expression.

“Aha what?” His brow puckered.

“Your face isn’t made of granite after all. I think there just might be some spirit in you yet. Maybe even some Christmas spirit.”

Nathan’s features turned rock hard once again. He spun on his high and mighty heel, holding his expensive-looking watch up in the air as he stormed out, making as much noise as humanly possible and obviously enjoying every minute of it. “Clock’s ticking, Ms. Darling. I suggest you get to work.”

“Ho, ho, flipp
ing, ho, McScroogy. I’m on it.”

Ms. Pit poked her silver head in, gave Samantha a nasty look, followed him out, and slammed the door hard. Samantha grabbed her scalp on a moan, cursing the evil doer. She might have a sentence to serve, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t serve it with the biggest dose of Christmas cheer he’d ever seen. Like she said, she was through with l
etting men have the upper hand.

Nathan Snow was no exception.

Determination overtook her. Yes indeedy, nice was safe, and naughty was highly overrated, but taking Nathan Snow down a peg was beginning to sound oh so merry.

**
*

“You did what to Mrs. Claus?” Ellen shrieked in Samantha’s ear.

Samantha yanked the phone away from her head as she continued to pack her bags back in her Boston apartment. She’d had to beg Nathan to let her go back and get some of her things. He’d only relented by insisting his driver take her, so he could be sure she wouldn’t skip town. At least she’d convinced the hulk of a bodyguard to wait outside.

“Oh, my God. Those poor elves will never be the same,” Amber interjected. “Honey, the plan was to get you tipsy, not drunk, but you’re such a lightweight. You promised you’d go home. Yes, we wanted you to do something a little crazy to get Mark out of your system for good, because swearing off men forever is plain stupid. We just never expected you to take naughty to a whole new level, and with T
all, Dark and Stuffy, no less.”

Samantha could hear their peals of laughter from a foot away. A three-way with her friends was never a good idea, even if it only involved three phone lines and one connection.

She brought the phone back to her ear. “About that, thanks a lot, guys. I can’t believe you set me up like that. Getting me drunk and then hitting on
him
, of all people.” Samantha groaned, reliving the horror of waking up on Santa’s lap and discovering what she had done. Mortified only scratched the surface for what she’d felt at that moment. “I am never drinking again. Ever!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ellen said, “that’s what we all say. And for the record, we had no idea
Stuffy was
The
Nathan Studly.”

“Well, he is. And I mean it this time. I am never listening to either one of you again.”

“Hey, we said get closure, not commit B and E.” Amber snorted.

“I told you, I didn’t break anything, I just entered. God, if you could have seen Mr. Snow’s face--first shock, then dismay, and finally pure fury.” Samantha zipped her suitcase closed. “I can’t blame him, really. I mean, he didn’t deserve for all of Redemption to see his front window lit up with those ridiculous Christmas condoms twinkling in the early morning sunshine. Even so, the man has no heart, I tell you.”

“Yeah, but I’ve read the tabloids. I’ll bet he could stuff your stocking quite nicely,” Ellen added.

Samantha could just picture Ellen’s auburn brows wagging away. “I am
not
going back there to have my stocking stuffed, thank you very much.” She dragged her luggage to the front door of her apartment, turning down the heat and flicking off the lights along the way. “I am going back to right a wrong because it’s the right thing to do, and that’s all. And I’m only staying in the spare room in back of his shop because it’s more convenient. The minute I finish the display, I’ll join my parents in Connecticut.”