Page 6 of Mr. Naughty And Mrs. Nice

He shakes his head. “Figures.”

“But don’t worry, you learned the magic of Christmas before the credits rolled.”

“I doubt that will be happening in real life,” he says, grinning at me. “What do you want for Christmas?”

A heaviness hits my stomach, but I quickly push it away. What I really want for Christmas is to be home. Or, anywhere festive really.

I always dreamed of moving to New York City and three years ago when I was twenty-two, I did it. I packed my things and moved from Arizona all the way here to the Upper East Coast. I wanted to work in fashion, designing clothes more specifically, but all I’ve gotten so far is an unpaid internship that fired me halfway through. But still, I work every night on my designs and I’m not giving up yet.

I love my family, and I adore spending the Holidays with them, but it’s too expensive to fly back and forth every year. I haven’t been home since I left. I really miss it.

Last year, I spent Christmas with my roommate. We made a small turkey and watched Christmas movies all day, which was fun.

But this year, she’s going home, so it’s just going to be me and her cat hanging out, eating spicy Ramen noodles, and trying not to cry.

“I would be thrilled to have one of these sweaters under the tree,” I say, waving my arm at the folded sweaters on display. “They’re real cashmere, feel.”

We both put our hand on the same sweater and our fingers touch. Electricity sizzles through me. Literally. We both get a static electric shock and I yank my hand back with a gasp.

He laughs. It’s such a gorgeous sight.

I could stare at this face fordays…

“Talk about chemistry,” he says with a flirty smile.

“Actually, electricity is a part of physics rather than chemistry, so the pun is incorrect.”

My heart starts pounding as his flirty smile turns into an amused grin.

Shit. Shit!

This was going so well.

Why do I always ruin it? Why can’t I be like other girls and just smile back while flicking my hair?

This is why I don’t have a boyfriend. Why I’ve never had a boyfriend. Why I’m a twenty-five-year-old virgin who’s stuck alone for the Holidays,again.

“I mean…” I say, my cheeks burning hot.

“No, you’re right,” he says, actually amused by my flavor of crazy. “There are two things I hate more than anything: Mixing up fields of science and incorrect puns. I hope you can forgive me.”

“It’s going to take some time…”

“Does this mean I can see you again?”

I swallow hard as I stare into those unworldly eyes. My body ison fire. The spark ignited when we touched and now it’s a blazing inferno.

Now,that’swhat I want for Christmas.

To see this man again.

And to be consumed by him.

CHAPTER THREE

Quinn

“Unless,” I say to the adorable beauty standing in front of me, “you have a boyfriend.”

---