A Very Merry Temptation: 'Twas the Season / Mistletoe in Memphis / Second-Chance Christmas

Chapter 2

Maxwell Steele-Hardaway, aka Max Stele, had come to the office party for one reason and one reason only: to get Nikki Danes, in any way he could.

The gorgeous part-time accountant had captured his attention from the first time he’d seen her two weeks ago when he’d joined the staff of MagHard Interior Design.

Temporarily joined the staff, he corrected himself, quelling the surge of irritation.

When his mother had approached him to help out the family, she’d used guilt and motherly love, but especially guilt in her appeal to her only son to help her in what she called her “time of need.” Time of need, his butt, he thought.

He loved his mother, but she was without doubt the queen bee of drama. Naomi Steele-Hardaway was also blessed with one of the sharpest business minds he’d ever known.

She ran the family’s business, MagHard Interior Design, with all the precision and attention to detail of an army drill sergeant. She’d launched the company with his father more than thirty years ago, and since his father’s passing when Max was still in high school, the business had earned the distinction of being on the Fortune 500 list, with affiliate offices all over the United States.

The fact that she’d used the trump card of her “time of need” was just her way of asking Max to come home. He shook his head. Scratch that. Demanded that Max come home.

The only question was...why.

Max pretended to listen to Michelle Grimes, one of the supervisors in Design, as she regaled him with stories about the manager he’d replaced while he contemplated his mother’s reason for asking him to help...and searched for Nikki Danes in the crowd of partygoers.

The fact that his mother had fired the last office manager made her request more palatable. At least this time the alibi made more sense. But Max knew there was something more, another reason for her demand for him to come home.

“So if you’d like, we can discuss the changes over coffee Monday?”

Max frowned and looked directly at the woman in front of him. Michelle had been one of the first execs he’d met when he’d arrived at the Austin offices. Lucky for him, the office was one of the newer ones, and outside of top management, no one knew who he was. He’d told his mother he wanted to keep it that way. She’d agreed easily to his demand, which was odd, since his mother rarely, if ever, agreed to anyone making demands of her.

“Sure, no problem,” he said to Michelle, without knowing what in the hell he’d just agreed to. When her face lit up like the Christmas tree, he felt apprehensive. Oh, hell...what had he just agreed to? he wondered as he studied the woman. Damn.

Michelle’s over-the-top flirting, starting the moment he’d arrived, hadn’t gone unnoticed. But he’d hoped to hell she would get the hint that he wasn’t interested.

She hadn’t. Obviously. He knew that part of her attraction to him was the mystery surrounding exactly who he was. He had tested the waters by using his mother’s maiden name, Steele, rather than the family name, Hardaway. But even then he’d added a twist and spelled it “Stele,” just to make sure no one made the connection.

When he told his mother, she’d given him a butter-wouldn’t-melt-in-her-mouth kind of smile and agreed.

He felt the frown deepen.

Damn it. He was here to enjoy, let go and have fun. And not think about his mother and what she was up to.

“Great! I’ll uh...come by in the morning and we can go down to Starbucks. Or we can go to the new coffee shop that just opened up on the corner, near the office building. I’ve been wanting to check them out,” she continued to babble, and it became incredibly difficult for Max to pay attention to the woman. He had one woman and one woman only on his mind.

Michelle continued to speak. “I hear they make a great café fresco and they have fresh pastries, homemade! Not like those made at—”

“I’ll just bring the coffee to our meeting,” he cut in, ending her enthusiastic soliloquy. Hell, if he didn’t, she’d probably have him agreeing to crap he had no desire to agree to, as his focus was currently diverted.

“Do you want to meet at eight-thirty?” Michelle asked.

“I’m not always sure what time in the morning I will make it in. Depending on how late I’ve had to be up the night before,” he murmured, letting the very obvious meaning sink in.

“Ooh,” Michelle said, a bright blush staining her pale skin. Obviously she caught the hint he threw out.

Which was another thing he was aware of—the office gossip that he was a player, a guy who enjoyed women. But he made no attempt to rectify the rumors that circulated, both in the office and out. It helped to keep those at bay who knew who he was...or better yet, knew who his family was—and along with that, knew about the money. After convincing his mother that he wanted no one to know he was technically part-owner of the company, he’d finally agreed to help her out of the supposed bind she was in.

In actuality, his original reluctance at being at MagHard Interior Design had evaporated like steam the minute he’d walked into headquarters the morning he had started and seen Nikki.

He’d been on the elevator the first time he’d seen her.

The elevator had been crowded and he’d kept his eyes straight ahead, not in the mood to make eye contact with anyone. The packed elevator made several stops along the way, letting folks in and out and when the doors slid open, allowing the last passengers to leave, he’d breathed a sigh of relief.

Max had muttered, “Thank God,” only to hear someone yelling....

“Oh, please hold that, please!” a breathy feminine voice had begged and although he would have loved nothing more than to have the last few seconds alone until he made it to his destination on the top floor, he had pressed a finger on the door-open button.

“Thank you so much!” the breathless voice had replied as a small woman hurtled herself into the elevator. Before Max could really get a good glimpse of her, her perfume, light, unique and floral, had caught his attention.

“No problem,” he had said, turning to glance down at her.

She had looked up at him as she readjusted the messenger bag over her shoulder, again thanking him. She had smiled and two large dimples appeared in her cheeks, her almond-shaped eyes slanting, giving her an exotic look.

He had run his glance over her as she’d eased her small frame against the wall of the elevator, her gaze leaving his as a fine blush stole over her creamy brown skin. Fascinated by the obvious blush, Max had continued to stare at her.

Beauty didn’t really describe her.

Her flawless skin was the color of deep milk chocolate without a hint of cream, and was just as smooth in appearance. She had the type of skin that made a man want to reach out and touch her face just to verify if it was as soft as it looked.

Her slanted eyes, although a rich brown, had flecks of what appeared from his distance from her a lighter color. He had been tempted to draw closer to her to see exactly what shade they were, and barely restrained himself in time. Her nose was small, and set above a full set of sexy, plump lips.

His cock had stirred as his gaze lingered on her mouth.

He had forced his eyes away. If he hadn’t, he’d been afraid he’d act on the inappropriate desire he had to go up to a woman he didn’t know, lean down and kiss those delightfully full lips.

She had been dressed casually, in a formfitting black skirt, not too short, the hem flirting around her knees. She had worn a pink tank top beneath a billowy, long-sleeved white tunic, buttoned halfway and tucked neatly into her skirt.

Maybe a little bit on the bohemian side, but not outlandish. Nothing special, but on her it looked sexy as hell. The colors she had worn were a perfect foil for her dark skin, and the skirt was fitted enough that it showed off her small waist and tight butt. Perfectly, deliciously proportioned A.T.W.: ass to waist.

And what an ass she had. Perky, the round globes appeared firm, and he had felt his cock stir again at the thought of what they would feel like cupped in his hands. What it would feel like to slide his hands over their no-doubt silky-feeling perfection. She’d wake up the morning after from a night of hot sex with his handprints all over that butt of hers.

She had just enough overflow to...bounce.

His eyes had met hers, caught them on him, checking him out just as he’d been checking every fine inch of her out as well.

Good. She now knew he was interested, and as he prided himself on knowing women, he also knew he’d piqued her interest.

Max had known time was limited; the ride would only last so long.

“Which floor?” Max had asked, his voice low, guttural, his mind on what he would love to do to her even as his gaze locked and loaded on hers.

The offices of MagHard Interior Design were located in a building that the corporation owned and managed, leasing out the luxury suites in the high-rent district of downtown Austin at a premium price. His office as well as all of upper management resided on the top floor, with the two floors directly beneath for the rest of the company. One floor was dedicated to the design team, the other for administration, including Human Resources.

Max had focused his gaze on the beautiful woman, her eyes downcast as she tried her best not to look at him.

So damn sexy, he had thought. And again his dick had reacted to the visual of the offbeat little beauty. A small smile had tugged the corner of his mouth upward when her tongue had sneaked out and swiped across her bottom lip.

When she had glanced up at him, he had dropped his lids low to hide his eyes. He knew his lust had to be shining brightly; there was no way he could hide his reaction.

She had that offbeat, backhanded, casual type of sex appeal. The type that came as naturally to her as breathing.

Max had been incredibly fascinated and headed toward clinical obsession the longer he stared at her.

The elevator had jerked slightly and she had been jostled, not enough to bring her to his side, but enough that it moved her closer. His eyes had been drawn to her breasts, which bounced right along with the elevator, and the jiggle...fuck. If he wasn’t careful, Max knew he would be in trouble of accosting a woman he didn’t even know.

His nostrils had flared as he dragged in a deep breath. He had felt the overwhelming need to close his eyes, take in her intoxicating essence. It reached out and ensnarled him, dragging him in. What the hell was going on with him? one part of his mind had questioned.

Although he’d had plenty of women, he’d never felt this immediate and damn-near feverish type of attraction before that day.

The thought had hit him that the woman was turning him on in ways he hadn’t been turned on by anyone in a long time. Damn. And that was with her clothes on, in a public area...an elevator, no less.

What the hell would happen if he could get her alone? He’d convince her to take off her clothes and see if that perfectly mounded butt of hers fit into his palms with a hint of hang time, the overflow spilling over his cupped palms like two deviously ripened small melons, like he thought it would.

Max had shaken his head. He was getting ahead of himself. At the rate his mind was racing, the images that were bombarding his heated libido, he’d have her up against the wall and be balls-deep before he could even find out who she was.

He’d never been this affected by someone he didn’t know. Hadn’t spoken to.

He had known that he only had a finite time before the elevator ride ended to find out who she was, whether she worked in the office building and where.

She had cleared her throat and Max had met her eyes.

“Could you press number fourteen for me?” She had asked, her soft voice like music, the end notes floating over his skin like a butterfly’s caress.

He had frowned, the strength of her appeal unlike anything he’d ever felt.

Max had casually leaned forward to jab the button she’d requested, his gaze never leaving hers. Her eyes had broken contact, and again he caught the hint of a blush staining her pretty cocoa-brown skin.

His glance had raked over her again.

Max had learned a long time ago to go with his gut. It was what had allowed him to break away from the family and their fortune and earn his own way, and why to date he’d amassed a fortune through commercial real estate that was a force to be reckoned with, although it didn’t exactly match the family holdings. Although he held an interest in the family business, he hadn’t relied on his family to give him extra leverage.

Working for himself and not using the family name as a way to get his foot in the door, Max prided himself on the fact that he was a self-made man.

In doing so, he’d learned a valuable, sometimes painful lesson, that when he didn’t follow his hunches, his gut, it was a surefire way of fucking up.

And he had no intention of fucking up this hunch. The hunch that had told him that the woman occupying his space was important to him.

And his gut had told him this chance encounter was...going to be interesting. He didn’t know in what way, but he had felt it, deep within his core.

He had allowed the smile that had been lurking to break free, fully aware that she’d caught him staring. But it was her own fault for being so damn fine. So...intoxicating to his senses.

He had drawn in a breath, his smile widening when he saw her reaction. Her pupils had dilated. His glance had dropped to the hollow of her throat, and the banging little pulse that beckoned for his mouth to cover, caress and assure that he wasn’t going to hurt her...that he would take good care of her. His dick was now painful within the constriction of his pants.

His eyes had suddenly narrowed as realization hit after he had pushed the button. They worked for the same company. It was then he had noticed the messenger bag she had slung over her shoulder that featured his family’s crest. Many of the new employees had been given a bag with the emblem emblazoned on the front when they began to work for the company.

“Thank you,” she had said and ducked her head, but Max had caught the flare of awareness, the look of admiration that crossed her beautiful face as she had been sizing him up.

“No problem,” Max had finally muttered, realizing that he’d been staring at the woman far too long.

He had waited for her to realize that he was headed toward the same company.

He had stuck out his hand. “Max Stele. I’m new,” he had said, his voice low, his gaze fixed on hers.

Locked and loaded.

“Figured you worked for MagHard, too,” he had said, indicating the button he’d just depressed and her bag with the corporate logo.

“Oh, okay...um, I’m Nikki. Nikki Danes. I, uh, work in Accounting,” she had replied, and glanced down at his waiting, opened palm.

She had hesitated briefly before lightly placing her hand within his. Immediately Max’s much larger one had clamped down firmly. He had bit down a groan; her hand was soft and felt...right held within his. He had held on longer than necessary, and when she had tugged, gently, he had allowed her to withdraw. For now.

“Do you like working there?” he had asked.

“Well, I think I do. Depends on how the dragon is feeling today.”

He had barked out a surprised laugh at her response. As soon as the words left her pretty, full lips, her eyes had widened and she slammed a hand over her mouth, suppressing a groan. His libido and humor were at war with each other, both vying for dominance.

He had known who Nikki was referring to: Ms. Nadine Rockway, the accounting manager.

He also knew the woman had breath that could start a forest fire. But Nadine Rockway was a damn good accountant, one who had been handling the books for various Hardaway companies and working for and with his mother for years. The two were like sisters. Of a sort.

But her breath still stank to high heaven.

“Dragon lady, huh?” he had asked, staring down at her, keeping a straight face. “Is that because she’s so...seasoned?” She bit her lip, but Max had seen the glint of humor in her pretty brown eyes and he had pressed on. “Or is it because her breath could scorch the fine hairs off a frog’s back?”

“Well...that’s an interesting way of putting it,” she had stated, and they both had laughed.

“This is my floor,” she had said, the giggles subsiding as the elevator came to a halt. “Maybe I’ll see you around.”

“No doubt about it, Ms. Danes,” he had murmured.

After she’d left the elevator, her unique scent remained. Unconsciously, Max had adjusted himself in his pants, his shaft reacting again to the scent of the woman.

But as enticing as her unique scent had been, her casual beauty and the hint of her offbeat humor had snared his attention even more.

When the elevator had reached his floor, Max had stepped into the upper management offices with a new, upbeat feeling, suddenly looking forward to his stint. And all because of Nikki Danes.

Over the following weeks, he had gone out of his way to see her, finding any excuse to visit the administrative offices and catch glimpses of her. Yet for all the times he’d seen her, he’d become frustrated as hell, because he’d not once since that first moment had one damn moment alone with her.

Now nights were beginning to merge into one long pubescent wet dream, wherein he’d wake up with his shaft in his hand and sexy images of the pretty accounting assistant teasing his mind.

Despite his veiled excuses to visit the accounting department, he’d not had the opportunity to get her alone and talk to her. Not that Max hadn’t tried his damnedest.

He’d found out her lunchtime, and although he’d gone to the cafeteria, he hadn’t caught a glimpse of her. Further snooping and he’d found out she was a full-time grad student and often used her lunch periods to go and study.

Although his identity as a member of the Hardaway family was unknown, there were two people who knew who he really was: Nadine Rockway, Nikki’s immediate supervisor and the head of the accounting department, and the chief of security and personnel, James Green.

Max knew that if he accessed the records and looked her up himself, it would be suspicious. There was no way in hell he was going to go to Nadine and ask. Without a doubt he knew that it would become a topic of conversation between the woman and his mother, something he could do without.

Which left James, a much better candidate for his mission to find out all he could about Nikki. The man had worked for the family business for years, just as Nadine had, but he was less inclined to gossip with Max’s mother. Without asking questions—he was the chief of security, after all—he’d not only pulled her personal records from the files, but he’d also loaded her full dossier on a jump drive and placed it in a sealed envelope.

Max had, without shame, plugged the jump drive into his laptop, sat back and learned everything he could about her....

It was then he had decided a company party to celebrate the holidays was in order. And not just any type. For this holiday party, he had communicated to the staff the importance of attendance and dressing up.

He wanted to see her all dolled up, he had thought with a satisfied smile on his face.

Max felt a hot glide of awareness the minute she came into the room. He was snapped out of the memory, his glance colliding with hers.

Nikki Danes.

As those around him continued to speak—it was all background noise—his focus was all on her.

He moved his head to the side to try to catch a better look at her, and fought the urge to shove Larry from the design department to the side when the obese man blocked his view. When Larry finally moved aside to chase down one of the waiters carrying a platter of small sandwiches, Max finally caught a real good look at her.

Hot damn, he thought, his eyes on the gorgeous woman. He felt as though he’d been kicked in the chest the minute he got a good visual of her.

He’d had an idea she had a fine body, but no way did he know it looked like that. His cock thumped inside his shorts in response.

The dress she wore hugged every inch of her perfect curves like a custom-made glove.

The bold, deep red color of the wrap dress complemented her deep chocolate skin tone. Her legs seemed to go on forever and a day.... Again his cock stirred, thickening, elongating in response.

Even her shoes were sexy; they matched her dress in color, with strings that tied at her ankles and formed perfect bows. Bows he longed to unwrap. He loved a woman wearing stilettos, especially one with the kind of legs Nikki had.

He mumbled apologies as he began to move toward her, blindly ignoring those around him.

He only had eyes for her. And he intended to make her his....