Administrative Assistant Layla Reynolds has loved Christmas ever since she was a little girl, but she hasn’t been able to enjoy it since beginning to work Director Enterprises. Her tyrant of a boss hated the holiday and now she was stuck with him for two weeks at his house during a snow storm.
CEO of Director Enterprises Preston Scott wasn’t a man known to celebrate the Christmas Holiday. So, why after one day of having Layla in his house he wanted to celebrate the holiday in a whole different way?
“Now that we are in the kitchen, would you like to tell me what you would want to eat for lunch?” Preston asked. He traced his finger along Layla’s jaw and wondered what she would do if he kissed her. I make a mean tuna fish sandwich.”
Layla brushed Preston’s hand away from her cheek and leaned back in her seat. She didn’t know what had gotten into her boss in the past forty eight hours, but she didn’t want to catch it. He was looking at her like she was the Christmas present he wanted to find underneath his tree. He had made it pretty clear there would be no flirting under any circumstances. It had to stay strictly business between them while they were under the same roof. So, what was he up to now? Was his bed too cold last night and he wanted a nice warm brown body to keep it hot for him?
“What’s wrong with you, Mr. Scott?” she asked, sliding off the stool. “Why are you touching my face and looking like you want to lick it as well?” Layla backed away toward the door.
“Preston,” he corrected, advancing up on her.
“What?” she uttered. She continued moving until the counter behind her hit her back. “I’m not following you.”
“I want you to call me Preston,” he answered. He boxed her in with his large body and leaned closer. “Not Mr. Scott, Sir, or any other name you may think of to call me. I want the woman I’m going to sleep with to moan… no, scream my name when I bring her to the peak of pleasure.”
She tilted her head back and stared into her boss’s mesmerizing eyes, her own narrowing to study him. “What makes you think I still want you?” She hoped she had managed to use her most disinterested voice.
“This,” Preston growled, reaching out to fondle a hard nipple through her light sweater. “Plus I can smell your desire. I know if I slid my hand in your pants and into your panties my fingers would get soaked.”
Oh god, he can’t really know that. How is that possible?
Mortified, Layla placed her hands on his chest and tried to push him away from her, but he wouldn’t move. “Please move out of my way.”
“Why?” Preston asked while his finger still played with her nipple. “Where do you want to go?”
Controlling the need to lean back on the counter to give Preston better access to her breast, she swallowed a couple of times then answered her boss’s question. “I want to pack my things and leave.”
“Sorry, doll, you can’t do that,” Preston murmured, moving his hand over to her other breast. He ran his nail across the hard tip, sending shockwaves through her body.
Layla latched her hands at the side of the counter so she wouldn’t wrap them around Preston’s arms and beg him to take her where they stood. Shaking the crazy thought from her mind, she focused her attention on what Preston just told her.
“Why can’t I leave?” she questioned. “You can’t keep me prisoner here.” She couldn’t stay here or she might end up doing something she would regret—like making love to her boss.
“When was the last time you looked out the window?” Preston murmured as his hands pulled her sweater out of her jeans. “We are snowed in. I couldn’t let you leave if I wanted to.”