Page 15 of Craving Her Christmas Boss

‘It’s been the same every year for some time now.’ She tapped her fingers on the table as she itemised the list. ‘An orange in the toe, some lip-gloss, my own bag of chocolate covered peppermint creams and…’ She turned her head, met his too-close gaze full on, and told him straight. ‘Lacy knickers.’

‘Really?’ His thigh was pressing harder against hers again. ‘How lacy?’

‘Pretty lacy.’

‘Just the one pair, or several?’

‘Several.’

He lifted his drink and took a deep step. ‘I always knew Santa was a good guy.’

She escaped not long after. Finished her drink and ran away before she was tempted to flirt back.

She avoided makingeye contact with him all of the next morning. But in her lunch break, just as Rudolph the red nosed reindeer was being told he’d go down in history for the fourth time that day, Ryan hit the front of her wrapping queue again. He had a huge, bulky down puffer jacket in his arms.

‘Could you wrap this for me, please?’ There was more than a hint of devilry in his eyes. Way more.

‘Certainly, Mr Taylor.’

He dumped the jacket on the table between them. It was dark grey. Size triple XL. And it was as if it was alive. She folded it over and it sprang back. She tried tucking the arms under. They slipped out. She glanced up at him. He was smirking.

‘It’s not a problem for you, is it?’

‘Of course not.’ She bared her teeth in a savage sort of a smile.

Telling herself he was just like any other customer who deserved good service, she thought up some polite small talk. In honesty, she was insatiably curious. ‘Is it for a loved one?’

Confusion flickered across his face. ‘It’s for my cousin,’ he suddenly spouted. ‘Jodie. She’ll like it.’

Imogen pulled on the spool of ribbon and the green and gold colours of MacKenzie Forest and took in his minor attack of the fidgets. His cousin? Somehow she doubted that.

‘She feels the cold, too, you see—needs to warm up.’

Imogen’s suspicion hardened as his eyes danced. ‘Well, this should certainly do the trick.’ She smiled again, docile this time. ‘Are you sure you have the right size?’

Dancing eyes narrowed, ‘Oh, yes. She likes the layered look. Lots of bulk underneath.’

Good recovery. But she didn’t believe a word of it.

Watching her hands, he went on the attack. ‘I thought the ribbon was meant to go on the outside of the parcel?’

‘Ordinarily. But this would help look a little neater.’

She’d wound the ribbon around the middle of the jacket and pulled the ends tight, fast, knotted it. Then wound another length from top to toe. Another few lengths of ribbon and she had a neat rectangular shape.

She cuts and paper to length, now able to wrap it perfectly. She cut yet more ribbon to flourish over the outside this time.

‘That looks wonderful.’ He didn’t seem thrilled to concede.

‘I hope she enjoys it,’ Imogen said smoothly. ‘Even if she is going to open it twelve hours too early.’

He leant over the desk between them. ‘Christmas Eve is when the magic happens.’

‘Christmas Day is when the world plays.’

He shook his head. ‘Are we going to agree to disagree?’

‘Never.’

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