A Sinful Little Christmas. J. Margot Critch

how cold you are to me, or how many meaningless tasks you give me, I’m going to stick it out and do my job, and that’s to run this club like I know how.”

      “This is my club,” she told him. “You’ll do exactly what I say, when I say it, and you’ll thank me for the orders.” Her voice was firm, but the tremble of her lip told him that she was unsure.

      But he took a deep breath, and inhaled her scent. Light, citrusy, breezy, playful—so unlike the woman who wore it. “Sure, but you have to know that I’m not a man who takes orders.” He hooked his finger underneath the blanket she’d wrapped around her body and it fell to the ground, again leaving her in only her bra and panties.

      She gasped, but made no movement to cover herself. “That’s too bad,” she told him, pulling back from his touch. “I’m your boss. And I give orders.”

      “I’m just asking for a chance to do my job without you micromanaging me.”

      She cleared her throat. “We’ll see how it goes. I expect to have complete oversight. But I’m sure we can come to some sort of an understanding.”

      “Would that understanding include both of us staying in this room tonight? We can work out whatever this tension is between us? You’re a beautiful, sensual woman, and I want you. I know you like what you see when you look at me. Let’s explore this. See where it goes.”

      She hesitated, and he wondered if she might agree. He hoped to God that she would because the desire that racked his body was bound to snap him in two.

      “No,” she said firmly. Michael stepped back from her, giving her space—that was the magic word, and he took it very seriously. “You work for me.” She now looked perfectly lucid and waved her hands between them. “This can’t happen.” Pushing past him, she walked back into the bathroom.

      “Where are you going?” he asked.

      “I’m getting dressed,” she told him, slamming the door after her. Michael went to the wet bar and picked up the bottle of tequila she’d moved earlier and drank straight from the bottle in an attempt to quiet his raging hormones. In a couple of minutes, she came back into the room, fully dressed and holding her dry cleaning bags. She was once again the unflappable businesswoman. “Listen, Michael,” she said, pointing a finger in his face. “Nothing is going to happen between us. This was all a horrible mistake.”

      She left the room and slammed the door behind her. Already Michael had had two encounters with his new boss. Even though he wanted her more than he’d ever wanted another woman, he knew that she was right. They shared an intense connection, and he knew that they would have an amazing night together, but maybe it would be best for them to remain professional. He looked down and saw the way his dick had tented his slacks. Tell that to his body.