Page 4 of Holiday Temptation

As he gestures for me to lead the way out of the conference room, I can't help but feel a mix of triumph and trepidation. The next three days promise to be a whirlwind of festive activities, and though I've set myself a tall order, I'm determined to show Dominic Grange the magic of the holiday season.

But there's another sensation, too, a fluttering in my stomach that's entirely unrelated to the upcoming festive events. The truth is, there's something undeniably magnetic about Dominic. His intense gaze, his confident stature, and the way he'd listened so intently to my impassioned speech all add to a pull I can't ignore.

I shake my head slightly, trying to focus on the task at hand. I have a festive mission to plot, and that should be my main priority. But as I head to my new desk, setting up for the workday ahead, I can't help but let my mind wander to the evenings to come.

Sharing those moments with Dominic, the bright lights, the chill in the air, the scent of pine and cinnamon... The thought sends a thrill of excitement coursing through me. I can't deny it— while I'm eager to share the magic of Christmas with him, I'm equally intrigued by the possibility of getting to know the man behind the CEO title a little better.

Chapter 3

Dominic

Thesofthumofconversation dies down as the final slides of my presentation flicker onto the screen. Glancing up, I meet the eyes of Mr. Charles Darby, a potential business partner and seasoned player in the field. His expression is contemplative, giving nothing away, but I sense a sliver of approval.

"Thank you for your time, Mr. Darby," I say, rising from my chair. "I believe this collaboration could be mutually beneficial."

He nods, standing up and gathering his briefcase. "It's been enlightening, Mr. Grange."

I guide him toward the exit, intending to see him off professionally. We stride past rows of cubicles, but it's Emily's workstation that draws my eye. Adorning her desk is a mini Christmas tree, twinkling with tiny lights and shimmering ornaments. It's a modest touch that stands out amidst the neutral tones of the corporate space.

Darby follows my gaze, a slight smirk playing on his lips. "The holiday spirit seems alive and well in this corner," he remarks, nodding toward the tree.

"I believe it's a personal touch from my temporary assistant," I reply, keeping my tone neutral.

He takes a moment, eyeing Emily. She's in that festive red sweater today, fitting snugly over her curves, contrasting strikingly with her fair skin. She stands out like a bright flame in a sea of drab suits and typical business attire. I can't deny it; she looks damn sexy. For a split second, I'm caught off guard by the pull I feel toward her.

"She's quite the sight," Darby says, his voice carrying a hint of suggestiveness. "If I weren't a married man, well..."

I stiffen, my grip involuntarily tightening on the file I hold. A protectiveness surges through me, one I've not felt in a long time, and certainly not for an employee. The audacity of Darby's comment irritates me, but more than that, I'm taken aback by my own visceral reaction.

Choosing my words carefully, I reply, "Emily is an excellent assistant and a valued team member. I suggest we keep our comments professional, Mr. Darby."

He chuckles, raising his hands in a placating gesture. "Just making an observation, Grange."

I force a tight smile, masking my discomfort. "Your observation is noted. Safe travels."

Watching him leave, I take a moment to collect myself. The unexpected emotion I felt a moment ago remains, puzzling me. Pushing the thoughts aside, I turn my attention back to Emily. She sees me and waves me over with an unmistakable twinkle in her eye.

"I just wanted to remind you about our deal, Mr. Grange," she chirps, her voice teasing.

I raise an eyebrow, the corners of my mouth turning down slightly. "How could I possibly forget?”

She laughs lightly, her merriment at odds with the seriousness of our surroundings. "I'll be emailing you an address. Be there at 5:00 PM sharp."

I frown, taken aback. "5:00? I don't remember the last time I left work that early."

She shrugs, unbothered. "There's a first time for everything, right?"

I cross my arms defiantly. "And what if I have a meeting? Or if something urgent comes up?"

She smirks. "I've checked your calendar. You're free. And as for something urgent?" She leans in closer, her voice dropping to a near whisper. "Maybe this will be the most important thing you do all day."

Despite myself, I'm intrigued. Her confidence is captivating, and as much as I hate to admit it, I'm curious about what she has in store. Part of me—the part that's been dormant and focused solely on work for far too long—awakens, looking forward to the evening's mystery and the prospect of spending more time with Emily.

The address Emily sent lands me in the middle of a downtown holiday market. I step onto the cobblestone streets with a mix of irritation and disbelief. Overhead are strings of too-bright twinkling lights. Everywhere I look, stalls lure shoppers with a mix of holiday kitsch and sugary treats.

My gaze inevitably searches for and finds Emily near the entrance. Even in a crowd, she stands out. That navy coat is ordinary enough, but the glaringly red scarf draped around her neck catches the eye. And as our eyes meet, her entire face brightens, displaying a genuine warmth. Oddly, it chips away a little at my well-honed cynicism.

I approach, trying to maintain my usual air of detachment. But it's hard, seeing her so animated, so genuinely eager to share this with me. The professional boundaries between us seem to melt away, replaced by something rawer, more honest.

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