Naughty or Nice (5 page)

He opened her door and held out his hand. “Shall we?”

Samantha stared up at the impressive man before her. His expensive tuxedo was all black and tailored perfectly, the cut making her insides flutter. His slicked back hair made him look fierce and powerful. She supposed it was his armor, so to speak. His business attire that let everyone know he was ruthless and not to be taken for granted. Even though she was dying to mess it up, she had to admit this style gave him a dangerous quality that appealed to her inner vixen.

And
that
was why she’d hesitated.

If he only knew what she wanted him to teach her, hell, what she wanted to teach him, he’d probably be appalled. These were hardly the thoughts of a lady, but in her defense, she hadn’t had sex in a year. Right now, being a lady was the last thing on her mind. But no matter how much she might want him, she’d read enough about him in the tabloids. He was a ladies man through and through, but had never been in a serious relationship. Getting involved with him had major heartache
written all over it.

“Are you coming,” he asked, his hand still stretched out, but his eyes held a devilish glimmer.

She cleared her throat. Her mind might not want to have an affair with him, but her body begged to differ. “After you, Boss.” She slipped her hand into his and shivered as his tanned fingers closed over her pale ones.

“Cold?” he asked.

“Hardly,” she muttered, and he just ch
uckled, leading the way inside.

Oh, yeah, he knew exactly what he did to her, and he was loving every minute of it. Well, two could play at this game, she thought, as she decided to turn the tables on him. Time to make him squirm for a change. She had to even the playing field somehow, make him realize he wasn’t completely in control before she did something stupid. She didn’t plan to follow through on her seduction, simply let him see what it felt like to want someone so badly but not be able to have them. She smiled slightly, a little thrill coursing through her at the thought.

“What’s that look for,” he asked, studying her quizzically as they took their seat at a table near the dance floor.

“Oh, nothing. Just deciding you were right. Tonight is most definitely going to be fun.” She grabbed a goblet of water off the table and took a sip, looking around.

Soft lighting, crystal chandeliers and silk tablecloths were only the beginning. A full piece orchestra occupied the entire corner on the opposite side of the dance floor. Politicians, entertainers, and business executives she’d seen plastered in the magazines and on the news--decked in designer evening wear no normal person could afford--moved across the dance floor in a waltz. And tantalizing aromas of foods she couldn’t begin to name bathed the
room in a heady swirl of bliss.

She might do business with these type of people, but she didn’t live in their world. Being here was like something right out of a fairytale, with her as the leading lady, and her prince perched right beside her. Or was he the evil villain out to ruin her life?

“Hard to get used to, I know,” he broke into her thoughts.

“I can’t believe you give so much to help these kids. That’s amazing. I mean ten thousand dollars a plate is a lot of money.”

“Well, one-hundred actually.”

She choked on her drink. “You give one-hundred-thousand dollars? This charity must mean a lot to you.” Maybe there was more to him than she first thought.

He shrugged, looking a bit uncomfortable, then snagged another glass of champagne from a waiter’s tray before it passed by. Samantha could tell she’d hit on the truth.

“Well, Snow, you’ve done it again,” Senator Perry said, stopping by their table. “Your donation has topped us all, even your old man. I thought this year he might actually beat you, but somehow, you always manage to figure out what he’ll give and beat him at his own game. Well played, boy.” He clinked his glass to Nathan’s. “Maybe if he’d make an appearance for once, instead of jet setting all over the world, he’d fare better.” The Senator moved on to talk with a celebrity at another table, and Nathan conversed with various important people as Samantha watched and listened.

So
much for hitting on the truth.

Samantha studied the enigma sitting beside her. Smooth talking, well refined, yet distant. She was usually a good judge of character, but then again, she’d been way off when it came to Mark. Still, it was a shame that Nathan’s generosity stemmed out of a need to outshine his father rather than a desire to help these children. She’d been right all along. He had no heart and was as cold and ruthless as they said.

Definitely not a good idea to get involved with him.

“I know what you’re thinking, but you’re wrong,” he said when they were alone again. “I grew up surrounded by such wealth and power, yet I’ve never been completely comfortable with it. Venturing out on my own, making my own
money, making a name for myself
...
that was much more satisfying than being born into fame and fortune. At times I’m tempted to give it all away and start over again in a new venture.” He swirled the liquid in his glass, staring down into the gold contents. “Once you’ve achieved your
goals, life gets a bit boring.”

He looked so handsome and lonely for a moment, almost vulnerable. She wanted to hug him and tell him it would be all right. “Maybe starting over isn’t what you need,” she said, shifting in her seat and her breasts nearly popped out of her dress that seemed to be growing more snug by the minute. Damn hor d’oeuvres. “Maybe adding a family is the void you’re trying to fill. Ever consider getting married? Having children?” Oops, had she said that out loud? Double Damn. She didn’t need alcohol to act stupid around h
im, he was intoxicating enough.

His gaze snapped to her breasts, lingered, then lifted to her eyes
, locked, and held. “I told you
.
..
I’m already married.”

“Oh, right.” She licked her lips, remembering her mission to make him suffer like she was and to gain a bit of control back. She kicked off her shoes. “Well, maybe there’s another void you’re thinking of filling, then.” She slipped her bare foot under the edge of his pant leg and slid her toes up until they touched the warm skin of his shin above his dress sock. His firm, slightly hairy shin. Her toes tingled, and she had the strong suspicion she was squirming more than he was.

“Careful, Ms. Darling,” his voice growled, the rumble vibrating her nerve endings, among other body parts she didn’t dare consider at the momen
t. “You’re playing with fire.”

“It’s okay,” she said in a voice that sounded breathy to her own ears. “I know how to stop, drop and roll.” She couldn’t believe the things that were coming out of her mouth. She had no intention of sleeping with him and getting her heart broken, she just wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine. He’d been driving her crazy for days, and turnabout was fair play, after all.

So long as she stayed in control.

“Dance with me,” he said. It wasn’t a question, it was more of a command, and he pulled her to her feet before she could come up with a fathomable protest. The next thing she knew, she was in his arms, held tenderly as he fra
med her with all his godliness.

Control, control, control
, she thought, but then he pressed his palm to the small of her back--her bare back--and moved her seamlessly around the dance floor. She stumbled, just as she feared she would, but he quickly pressed her tight against him. Her bulging cleavage flattened against the contours of his rock solid pectoral muscles, yet he continued to move without missing a beat.

She, on the other hand, couldn’t inhale enough air.

“I thought our bodies weren’t supposed to touch in a waltz?” She asked, swallowing hard, trying not to feel the play of his chest and thigh muscles as they moved beneath the fine material of his tuxedo, or the hard bulge of what was nestled against her. Mission accomplished. She’d definitely affected him. Glancing around, she tried to see if anyone was watching her, but no one paid them any attention. Obviously she wasn’t the first woman they’d seen him with in a precarious position.

“I don’t give a damn what anyone thinks, Ms. Darling,” he stated, as though reading her mind. “Certain situations call for a different technique. I wouldn’t want you to fall,” he whispered seductively close to her ear, his warm breath tickling the hairs
on her neck.

He smelled amazing. It made her dizzy with a hunger of a different kind. She leaned back and looked at him. “I can assure you, Mr. Snow, I have no intention of falling.”

He nodded once, his eyes boring into hers. “Good. Then we’re on the same page.” His voice lowered to a husky decibel. “Because falling wouldn’t be good for your well-being.”

“E-Exactly.” She nodded back, glad he understood she had no intention of taking this dance of flirtation any further than the dance floor. “Well, thank you.” She tried to step out of his embrace. “You’re--”

“Not done.” He tightened his arms around her.

“What do you mean, not done? What else is there to do?”

“This.” His head swooped down and mouth covered hers, his tongue plunging deep to mate with her own.

Stars exploded behind her eyes, and waves of heat rolled over her, sprinkling her skin with tiny prickly bumps. His cologne smelled expensive mixed with a spellbinding manly fragrance that was pure Nathan. And his heavily whiskered face felt rough yet thrilling against hers as his mouth worked magic.

She couldn’t see, couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything but feel, and a desire more powerful than anything she’d ever experienced ripped through her body. Her knees caved out from under her, but she never hit t
he floor.

Strong arms tightened instantly, pressing her firmly against a solid wall of muscle, and her arms wrapped around his neck to hold on for dear life. After what felt like an eternity of sheer ecstasy, Nathan finally broke the kiss and set her down
.

Once he was sure she was steady on her feet, he stepped back and winked. “Told you I wouldn’t let you fall.”

She just blinked at him, speechless, terrified it may already be too late.

Chapter Four

The next morning, the first thing on the agenda was to cut down a Christmas tree and put any thoughts of intimacy with Nathan out of her mind, Samantha decided. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t stop reliving that amazing kiss.

Nathan strolled out of one delighted Betty of Betty’s Thrift Store owner’s shop and joined Samantha in front of Sal’s Hardware store. While he’d always looked sharp in his designer pants and tailor made shirts--all different shades of black--Samantha decided he looked flat out hot in a pair of snug fitting jeans and a soft burgundy sweater. His normally slicked back hair lay in soft, pomade-free black waves, making his olive skin and permanent five-o’clock shadow look even sexier and somehow more approachable.

Nancy of Nancy’s Knickknacks strolled out of her shop with the covered storefront window and smirked at Nathan as though he didn’t stand a chance again this year. But Samantha didn’t miss the look of longing that had passed over Nancy’s face when she’d first spotted him. A surge of something Samantha wasn’t ready to identify swept through her, but she shrugged it off as indigestion. Although, looking at Nathan now, she couldn’t blame t
he woman for lusting after him.

“I look stupid, I know,” he said, when she remained speechless, blatantly letting her eyes take in every luscious inch of him.

She snapped out of her mesmerized state. “Hot. Y-You look hot.”

One corner of his lips hitched up ever so slightly, making her ears burn as she realized what she’d said.

“I mean, you look fine, but you must be hot in that thick sweater.”

He smiled fully, now, totally onto her. “I’m not wearing a coat, so I’m okay.”

“Right, and considering it is December and we’ll be outside, you would need a coat or a thick sweater so you won’t get cold, and--”

“Ms. Darling, you’re rambling.” His smile grew wider still, and the lines at the corners of his lips deepened, making him even more handsome, the rat.

“No questions. Trust me, remember?”

“I trust that you think I’m hot.”

“And I trust that you need more help than I thought, Mr. Snow.”

“Call me Nathan. It’s silly to be so formal, given how you feel about me, and all.” His eyes twinkled.

“You really are arrogant.” Samantha shook her head. “Don’t flatter yourself, pal, but I do agree being so formal--when we are working so close together, and you
did
ask me out on a date--is silly. You can call me Samantha.”

His eyes smoldered at the word date, and she tried to clarify she was kidding, but he cut he
r off. “I’m honored, Samantha.”

He brought her hand to his lips and, at the last moment, turned it over and kissed her palm. His hot breath fanned over her nerve endings, sending her pulse into a double-time rendition of, “Fa la la la laaa, la la la laaa.”

“From rambling to speechless,” his deep voice rumbled low and delicious against her hand. “Remarkable. I have a feeling this week won’t be as painful as I imagined.”

“Humph!” Samantha yanked her hand from his, having a feeling he knew the exact effect he had on her, and he was toying with her emotions. She snapped, “Le
t’s go, Snow. Clock’s ticking.”

She held up her wrist and tapped her much cheaper watch, as she marched into the hardware store to buy a saw with Nathan laughing all the way behind her. It wasn’t quite a ‘ho, ho, ho,’ but it was getting pretty close. And that was t
he point, after all. Wasn’t it?

She wasn’t quite sure of anything anymore.

***

Two hours later they were on the outskirts of town, deep in the woods, looking for the perfect tree. The sun sank even lower in the sky, a crisp bite stung the air, and the smell of pine engulfed them.

“How about this one?” Nathan asked.

Samantha walked around the tree, circling it a couple times. “No, that one won’t do.”

“Why not?”

“It’s got a big hole in the back.”

“But no one will see it.”

“But I’ll know it’s there.”

He sighed. “Fine.” He kept walking, his boots plowing through dry and brittle acorns, leaves and twigs, until he came to a stop in front of another tree. After mimicking her actions by circling the tree a couple times, he said, “This one doesn’t have a single hole.” He pulled out the saw and stepped forward.

“Wait. That one won’t do, either.”

“What’s the problem this time?”

“It’s too fat.”

He grunted. “Only a woman could get away with saying something like that, even about a tree.”

“Ha, ha, very funny. What I mean is it will take up too much room in your front wi
ndow. Limited space, remember?”

He blew out a breath and rolled his head on his shoulders, then started walking again. He came to a stop in front of yet another tree and, again, walked several circles around it. “Okay, now, this one is perfect. No holes and nice and skinny.”

“Too skinny.”

“I thought there was no such thing as too skinny for you women.”

Samantha wasn’t fat by any means, but she certainly wasn’t model thin, either. “Do I look like I’m into skinny?” She enjoyed a little thing called eating way too much to ever be a model, even though she’d been told she had Barbie doll looks since she’d hit puberty.

His gaze ran over her from head to toe, stopping to linger on all the right curves, and heating to near sizzling as he said, “No, you look damn near perfect to me.”

“I do?” she barely got out, the very air around them charged with sizzling sexual tension.

He seemed to realize he’d revealed a bit more than he’d intended, so he cleared his throat and started walking again. “If only we could find the perfect tree, we could get the hell out of here. Let’s just say I’m not much of an outdoors man, and frankly, never cared to be.”

A short time later, Samantha let out a squeal and grabbed his arm. “Oh, my God.”

“What? A bear, a wolf, what do you see?” He shoved her behind him and wielded the saw as though it was a sword.

She bit her lip and her heart melted at the thought of him protecting her, even though he did look a bit goofy fencing with a tree saw against an imaginary opponent.

“Um, I hate to dash your chivalry, and all, but what I saw was the perfect tree. Feel free to kill the beast. It does have fur, after all.” She pointed to the perfect Douglas Fir standing before them and tried not to giggle.

He stopped moving and dropped his muscular arm to his side, then turned around to gape at her. “The perfect tree? You’ve got to be pulling my leg.”

“I assure you, I’m not pulling anything of yours.” She kept her eyes firmly locked on his face, only this time, she cleared
her
throat and led the way. “I always get excited when I find the perfect tree.” She pointed ahead of her. “This is going to look amazing in your window.”

He stopped by her side, circled the tree in what had now become a ritual, then plopped his hands on his hips. “If you say so. I’m just glad to be done.” He dropped down on his hands and knees, struggled for a minute until he got the hang of the saw, then successfully cut down the tree. He stood up and wiped his brow, wearing a huge grin of accomplishment and a smudge of dirt on his forehead. “Not bad for a guy who never had to do a chore a day in his life.”

“Wow, that must have been rough,” she said dryly.

“Hey, being born into money isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. I might not have had to work and got pretty much anything I wanted, but I never saw much of my parents then.” He dusted the dirt off his knees, his smile all but gone. “Still don’t now.”

“Nathan, I’m sorry.” Being a touchy feely type of person, she couldn’t resist cupping his cheek with her palm. It was either that or hug him, and something told her that would be way more dangerous.

He squeezed her hand before she could pull away, like he hadn’t received nearly enough genuine affection in life, and met her gaze. “Don’t be. At least I learned one thing from being raised by them.”

“Yeah, what’s that?”

He let his eyes trace her features before saying, “How to appreciate the finer things in life,” then he winked, his smile returning as he trudged back to the fallen tree to study his handiwork. “What now, Boss?”

“Now, we drag it out of the woods and tie it to the top of your car.”

His smile vanished. “Like hell.”

She shot him a look of disapproval.

He grunted. “I’ll make you a deal. I’ll drag that ‘thing’ God knows how many miles back to my car, but no way in hell am I tying it to my Beamer.”

“Fair enough.”

**
*

“I can’t believe I’m going to admit this, but you were right. The tree is perfect,” Nathan said the next morning after breakfast before the store opened.

“Excuse me. What was that? I couldn’t have possibly heard you right.” Samantha sipped her coffee with glee. They’d taken their second cup out to the storefront window to check on the tree. They’d even uncovered the window to see the tree in the full light of day.

“You heard me just fine,” he said, running a hand through his still gel-free hair. He’d obviously taken her compliment to heart. He might not be wearing jeans and hiking boots, but his sweater was a deep green today instead of his trademark black.

“Now do you see why I didn’t want to decorate it last night? The branches have settled beautifully.”

“Hey, I never claimed to know much about Christmas trees, let alone Christmas. I’m just glad we got it here.”

“I have to say last night was a first for me.” She laughed. “The look on the tow-truck driver’s face when he showed up expecting to tow your car only to wind up towing you
r Christmas tree was priceless.

“I paid him the full amount and a hefty tip to boot for very little work. It’s not exactly hard to tie a pine tree onto a flatbed. He should be thanking me.”

She bit her bottom lip and poked him. “And you should be thanking me. It really is perfect.”

“I’ll give you that.” Nathan sipped his coffee, studying her with penetrating eyes over the rim of his cup until she began to perspire. “So, what’s next, Boss?” His lips twitched.

She sucked in a deep, shaky breath and focused on getting through her “sentence” in one piece, preferably with her heart still intact. Basically, that meant not getting involved with the wealthy, ruthless tycoon who wasn’t nearly as cold as the press led everyone to believe. She unbuttoned the top button of her blouse, resisting the strong impulse to fan herself as she answered, “Next, we make our decorations.”

He lifted his gaze from the swell of her breasts and his brows shot up. “
Make
them?”

“It’ll be fun. You’ll see.”

“I’m a business man. I don’t have a crafty bone in my body.”

“Even you could handle what I have in mind.”

“I still don’t see why we can’t buy--”

“Old fashioned, traditional Christmas. Trust me, okay?”

He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Whatever you say.”

“Okay, I say we start at Bob’s craft store.”

“Win over another small business owner by shopping in his store while creating a display with heart,” Nathan said more to himself as though thinking aloud. “Two birds with one stone so to speak. You’re smarter than you look, Darling.”

“Thanks, I think.”

“No offense, but women who look like you usually can’t put a complete sentence together.”

“None taken, and likewise
...
men who look like you usually don’t have any taste at all, so I have to say I’m equally impressed.”

“Thanks, but I’m not as impressive as you think. I might be able to pick out a quality antique and a good wine, but I wouldn’t know one wrench from another, much less how to use them.”

She laughed. “Don’t feel so bad. I might have good organizational skills and have a keen eye for items that complement each other, but I have no clue what half of my kitchen utensils are called, much less how to use them.”

“Sounds like we make the perfect pair.” He wagged his brows.

She set her cup on the mantel of the fireplace and rubbed her hands together. “Indeed it does, partner, so let’s get to work.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I know.” She wagged her brows back at him. “But that’s exactly what I meant.”

He shook his head but followed her nonetheless.

They shopped at Bob’s and then
talked and laughed while they worked all morning, until someone knocked on the front window, startling them both. They’d forgotten to recover the window in their craft making frenzy. They had already strung popcorn and cranberry garland, created hand painted paper machete ornaments, and made sparkly tinsel, then they hung them on the tree. All that was left was the star on the top and plugging in the lights.

Sal, Betty and Bob stood waving outside.

Since they were here, they might as well give them a sneak peak before recovering the window. “Want to do the honors,” Samantha said.