Page 9 of Holiday Temptation

And then there was the kiss. That raw, undeniable connection lingers on the edge of my consciousness. But I push the thought aside. I have a corporation to run. There's no room for distractions.

However, as I sit down in my plush leather chair, I find myself thinking that some distractions might just be worth it.

The hours crawl by at a glacial pace. The usual hum of productivity, the drone of phone calls, and the soft clicking of keyboards are overshadowed by the insistent pulse of anticipation that throbs in the back of my mind. I find my gaze drifting more than once to the elegant curve of Emily's neck, the way her fingers dance over her keyboard, and the soft chuckles she shares with coworkers.

Every vibration of my phone, every chime of an incoming message leaves me hoping it's a reminder or a playful hint from Emily about our evening plans. Yet, every glance at the clock reminds me of the agonizing crawl of time. How is it that minutes can feel like hours?

Finally, at a quarter past four, the weight of anticipation becomes unbearable. I push back from my desk, deciding to take matters into my own hands. Approaching Emily's desk, I note the surprise in her eyes as I stop before her.

"Care to start our holiday adventure a bit early?" The words come out more as a request than I'd intended, my usual commanding tone softened.

Her eyes brighten, her lips parting in a surprised smile. "Thought you'd never ask," she teases, shutting down her computer.

She gathers her things, and with a brief, knowing glance shared between us, we make our way out of the office.

Inside the plush interior of my car, the leather seats offer a stark contrast to the growing chill outside. The engine purrs softly as I glance over at Emily, a smirk tugging at the corners of my mouth. "Where to?"

She grins, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Just drive, and I'll guide you."

We take a series of turns, some familiar, some foreign, her directions punctuating the hum of the engine and the muted sounds of the city outside. And just as I’m about to ask if we're embarking on a wild goose chase, she points ahead. "Pull over there."

I follow her finger and find myself at the entrance of a local park. The place is teeming with activity, the primary attraction being a sizable hill crowded with children and families. They're sledding, their laughter echoing in the crisp winter air, accompanied by the excited shrieks of kids speeding down the slope.

I stare at the scene, a frown forming on my brow. "You've got to be joking."

Emily's grin only widens. "Oh, come on, Dominic. When was the last time you let go and just had fun?"

I shoot her a skeptical look. "There's fun, and then there's willingly throwing oneself down a hill covered in snow."

She steps out of the car, a challenge evident in her stride as she moves toward a family seated around a picnic table, mugs of hot cocoa steaming in their hands. I watch, a mix of curiosity and disbelief, as she strikes up a conversation. Within minutes, she's heading back to me, dragging a sled behind her.

She stops in front of me, holding up the sled triumphantly. "Look, if it makes you feel better, we'll go together. One ride. That's all I'm asking."

I study her, noting the excitement in her eyes, the flush of her cheeks, and the playful challenge in her stance. Damn her. Somehow, she knows exactly how to push my buttons. With a resigned sigh, I nod, drawing an elated cheer from her.

Trudging up the hill, the snow crunches beneath our boots, the crisp air becoming sharper the higher we climb. We reach the summit, the cityscape a distant panorama beneath the early evening sky.

Emily sets the sled down, giving me a mischievous look. "I'll take the front. But you'll have to hold on tight, Mr. Grange," she teases.

With a hint of hesitation, I take my position behind her. Once settled, I wrap my arms around her waist, pulling her close. The cold snow beneath us contrasts with the warmth of her body against mine, and I'm hyper-aware of every curve and contour of her form. The scent of her hair, mingled with the crisp winter air, fills my senses. It's a sensation I didn't anticipate—a heady mix of thrill and intimacy.

With a nudge, we're off, gathering speed quickly. The ground blurs past, snowflakes whipping around us, and before I know it, I'm laughing, genuinely laughing. The rush, the close proximity to Emily, and the sheer unexpected joy of the moment collide in a burst of elation.

We hit a bump, and our laughter grows louder, echoing off the snow-covered trees. Then, as swiftly as it began, the ride comes to an end, the momentum tossing us from the sled. I brace for the impact, my instincts kicking in, twisting us so I take the brunt of the fall, ending up on top of Emily.

For a moment, we're both still, our laughter fading, our breaths mingling in the cold air. The world narrows to just the two of us, and without a word, our lips meet. The kiss is fierce, charged with the adrenaline of the sled ride and the intimacy of our current position.

Time seems to slow, and the weight of the moment presses down on us. Our tongues touch, exploring, tasting. I cup her face in my hands. Her skin is cold to the touch, yet it only heightens my desire for her.

The kiss intensifies, becoming more passionate with each passing second. She wraps a leg around me, bringing me even closer to her as if she can't get enough of me, either.

Just when it feels like the world might shatter from the tension, a cold sensation bursts against my cheek. I pull back, stunned, to find Emily smirking, a handful of snow ready for another assault.

"You did not just—" I start, but she cuts me off, pelting me with another snowball.

Her laughter rings out, daring and joyous, and with a grin, I scoop up my own handful of snow, lobbing it back at her. The mood shifts once again, the passionate tension replaced by playful combat.

What starts as a playful exchange between Emily and me quickly draws the children's attention. A young boy, no older than ten, with rosy cheeks and a mischievous glint in his eye, sides with Emily, sending a snowball flying straight at my chest.

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