Bride Under the Mistletoe: The Magic of a Family Christmas
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But as the words came out of his mouth, he realized she wasn’t angry. She really was upset.
His index finger hovered above her soft cheeks, so it was a natural movement when his hand shifted to cup her jaw.
Her big green eyes blinked up at him and his pulse scrambled. He didn’t take the time to evaluate the situation. Didn’t give himself an opportunity to issue the three thousand warnings that were ringing like bells in his brain. The sweet syrupy feeling tightening his chest had him under its spell. It urged him to shift forward, just brush his lips across hers.
He did and wasn’t sorry. Her taste was sweeter than a thousand candies. Her soft mouth responded to his, naturally, honestly, sending another pang of need through him.
His hands fell to her waist, nudging her closer, and she melted in his arms.
But it was the way she melted with total trust that brought him to his senses. If they got involved, one way or another he would let her down. Even if things worked out the way she wanted and they fell in love, he knew love didn’t last. His parents had sniped at each other for nearly forty years. When his mother had died, Cullen had actually struggled with the worry that his father had been relieved. Though he’d cried at her funeral, the next day he’d been off on his boat and soon he was out at parties with friends. In a week, it seemed that Cullen’s mom had been forgotten by everybody but Cullen. There was no way he wanted that for himself. But more than that, there was no way he wanted that for Wendy.
He pulled away. She blinked up at him, her pretty green eyes bright. Her lips were glistening from his kiss.
He squeezed his eyes shut in misery. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I don’t want to give you the wrong impression. But most of all I don’t want to hurt you.”
CHAPTER TEN
STANDING by the filing cabinet with her lips still tingling from his kiss, Wendy watched Cullen race into his office. She noticed that he’d forgotten his candy but wasn’t about to take it in to him. She was too stunned.
Not because he’d kissed her, but because he couldn’t help himself. She hadn’t made a fool of herself. He liked her, but he didn’t want to hurt her.
She should feel that he was noble. She should even appreciate it. But part of her was annoyed. Maybe she and Cullen weren’t meant to be together forever, but she needed this. She needed a few days or weeks with a man who truly couldn’t resist her to make her feel strong and sexy again. He was leaving on Thursday of the following week. They didn’t have enough time left together that she’d be paralyzed with pain when he left. So everything could be okay.
But she wouldn’t be the one to pursue him. She refused to make a fool of herself. The embarrassment of the past few days had burned that lesson onto her brain.
She went back to work.
He went back to work.
And they didn’t speak for the rest of the week, except when he needed something.
Friday at lunch the employee cafeteria was abuzz with the news that Cullen intended to attend the Christmas party. Sitting at her desk that afternoon, Wendy watched him, saddened that a wonderful opportunity was slipping through her fingers. Still, she couldn’t be the one to make the first move. Especially not at the Christmas party. Too many people would be watching. Too much chance that her coworkers would see her embarrassment if he rejected her.
At five o’clock she dashed home, thinking she’d have to remind Mrs. Brennon that she was cooking dinner and babysitting that night. She found the plump older woman humming at the stove, stirring a pot of something that smelled like beef stew.
“You remembered!”
Mrs. Brennon nodded. “How could I forget dinner with such a handsome young man?”
Sitting at the table crayoning the pictures in a thick coloring book, Harry peered at Wendy over his glasses. “She means me.”
Wendy walked over and hugged him. “Of course she means you.”
“You scoot now,” Mrs. Brennon said, waving her arms at Wendy. “You have a party to go to.”
Wendy raced to her bedroom. The party began at seven. She needed an hour to dress. And there was the matter of the thirty-minute drive to the hotel. She didn’t have a second to waste.
She quickly stripped and showered but spent far too long twisting her long hair into bouncy curls with the curling iron.
Realizing she had about ten minutes to get on the road or dinner would already be started, she raced to her closet. And stood staring at the dress she’d purchased the week before with Emma and Patty’s guidance.
She pulled out the simple sleeveless red sheath and examined it, wondering if she should wear it. They’d picked it knowing it would attract Cullen’s attention. Short enough to reveal a bit of leg, but not embarrassingly short. Snug enough to cruise her curves but not too tight.
Would it be enough to attract his attention?
And if it wasn’t, would she lose her patience and ask him to dance?
Could she risk another rejection?
Not entirely sure how to dress for this event, since he’d never attended a company Christmas party, Cullen decided on a plain black suit, a white shirt and a gold tie. That was about as festive as his wardrobe got when he was traveling. But when he stepped into the hotel’s ballroom and saw that most of the men wore suits and ties, no tuxes, he relaxed.
He took a drink from a passing waiter and saw Wendy in the back of the room chatting with some people from shipping and receiving. The sleeveless red dress she wore was particularly flattering to her figure, and he let his gaze ripple from her head to her toes, pausing to take in the length of leg she exposed.
She’d never looked prettier or sexier, so he turned and walked in the other direction. Not because he wanted to avoid her, but because he needed to be careful around her. Especially in a room full of witnesses. If he lost control and kissed her again, that would be the talk of the factory on Monday morning. He still had almost a week to work here and the prospect of being teased or gossiped about didn’t thrill him. Worse, Wendy had to work with these people forever. He wouldn’t embarrass her.
The ladies in his candy posse corralled him and he accepted their invitation to sit at their table for dinner. Which was good. He’d avoided yet another opportunity to get too close to Wendy.
After dinner, the band shifted from dinner music to dance music. Telling his posse that he needed to mingle, he excused himself and headed for the bar. He was stopped by so many people that the band finished their first set, took a break and began playing again before he actually made it.
He ordered a Scotch and suddenly found himself standing by Emma Watson and Patty Franks. “Good evening, Mr. Barrington.”
“Good evening, ladies. Are you enjoying yourselves?”
“Yes. Thank you.”
Patty blinked false eyelashes at him. “I haven’t seen you dancing yet tonight.”
“I sort of got waylaid.”
“That’s no excuse,” she said with a laugh. Just when Cullen was absolutely positive she was about to ask him to dance, she shifted slightly. Wendy stood behind her. “I’m sure Wendy would love to dance.”
From the way Wendy’s eyes widened with fear, Cullen not only knew her friends had surprised her, but also that dancing with him was probably the absolute last thing she wanted to do. But because she was afraid, not eager, he knew they would be safe together. Saying no or making a fuss would only call more attention to them than if they simply complied and danced to one song.
He held out his hand. “Would you care to dance?”
She swallowed and looked at her two friends who were smirking with victory before she placed her hand in his. “Sure.”
He led her out to the crowded floor just as the band stopped playing a hopping fast tune and began playing something slow. He caught her gaze. “If you’d rather not—”
She grimaced. “They’ll just keep hounding us until we dance, so we might as well get this over with.”
Taking her into his arms, he said, “Just what every guy wants to hear.”
She laughed. “Sorry.”
She fit so perfectly and felt so good that Cullen nearly groaned. Luckily, Wendy tilted her head back and said, “You’re a big hit.”
He laughed. “Thanks to my love of candy and my candy posse.”
“Rumor has it you paid for the party.”
He shrugged. “It’s the least my father and I can do.”
“Well, that gesture’s gone a long way to improve employee morale.”
“Nobody thinks the plant is closing anymore?”
She shook her head and gave him another sweet smile. “No. Thank you.”
“These people should be thanking you.”
She shrugged. “Not really. I was just being a good assistant. Filling you in on things you should know.”
He pulled back, caught her gaze. “You really can’t be that good.”
Her pretty face scrunched in confusion, as her eyes lit with laughter. “What do you mean good?”
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