The Kringle Girls - Collection (8 page)

“You want to explain that little scene out there?” Rafe’s
voice could cut glass, but Ivy was still seething over the whole situation.

“Me? I expressly said there would be
no
mistletoe allowed in these offices at any time!”

“And what, mistletoe turns you into a raging
nymphomaniac who can’t keep her hands off her coworkers?” Ivy thought she saw a
flash of guilt in Rafe’s eyes at the harsh words, but his fists were clenched
and every muscle in his body was tight and angry.

“Who I kiss is absolutely none of your business.”

Rafe had no response to that, or at least none that he
was planning to share with her. He snapped his mouth closed, his lips settling
into a grim line.

“It’s inappropriate,” he finally bit out.

Ivy shook her head. His attitude was domineering and
pushy and not the least bit attractive, but she realized she was going to have
to tell him the truth, if only to avoid future incidents.

“My sisters and I are –well, allergic is probably the
best way to describe it – to mistletoe. It’s a huge secret, and I’m only
telling you because we’re partners and I trust you to keep the information
safe. When a Kringle girl gets caught under the mistletoe, she can’t step away
until the person who trapped her kisses her on the mouth. Even worse, we’re put
in thrall…anything they ask us to do, we have to do.”

Rafe looked stunned.

“But that’s insane.”

“That’s magic,” Ivy shrugged, “We used to use it to
play pranks on each other when we were younger, but we had to be careful that
it didn’t get out of hand.”

The powerful man in front of her actually paled.

“Did it ever? Get out of hand?” His voice was a harsh
growl.

“No,” she reassured him softly, “But can you imagine
having your free will taken away from you? Being forced to be affectionate
toward someone you have absolutely no interest in? Letting them do whatever
they want to you because you literally can’t say no?”

“It’s wrong,” Rafe breathed, “And you’re not a person
who likes to give up control.”

The last was delivered with an oddly wistful note in
his voice, and Ivy considered him.

“I don’t mind the idea of using it to have a little
fun with someone I care about. But being groped by Gary Stans is not my idea of
a good time. He’s totally fired, by the way.”

“Way ahead of you.”

Ivy was relieved to see that Rafe had relaxed
marginally, probably relieved that his business partner wasn’t actually a
closet nympho after all.

“I suppose you don’t want to go back out there,” he
noted.

“You suppose right. I’m going to stay in here until
they’re all too drunk to remember anything except how to call a cab and stumble
home.” She started for the couch across the room.

“That sounds like a good idea.” The words were
delivered in a low, intimate rumble, and Ivy looked back in surprise.

Oh no. You can’t spend a whole evening in here with
Rafe.

She started back to tell him all the reasons that
would be a bad idea, when a sudden, familiar magical
force
had her
snapping into a spot in the middle of the room by the desk like a giant rubber
band.

Ivy shook her head to clear the sudden dizzy surge of
magic, and looked up.

“Oh come on, not again! Glitzy was right.”

The mistletoe overhead was elaborate and cheery and
festooned with candy canes and glitter.

“What’s the matter?” Rafe looked up, frowning. “I
didn’t put that there.”

“No, I think I can blame that one on my sweet,
rosy-cheeked, Machiavellian mother.”

“What – ”

“Seriously, you don’t want to know.” Stampeding frogs
suddenly made their presence known in Ivy’s stomach as she realized what she
was going to have to do to get out of her current predicament.

Poor me.

“I’m so sorry, Rafe, but I’m stuck here until…until
you kiss me.”

“But I didn’t trap you.”

“It’s your office and we’re the only ones here. That’s
close enough. Just a little peck will do the trick. Then I’ll grab a cab and
you can have a couple of weeks of peace and quiet without any more of this
magical nonsense.”

She waited expectantly for Rafe to free her, but he
only settled his hip on the edge of the desk, his expression thoughtful.

“Touch your nose,” he abruptly ordered, and Ivy was
shocked, but obediently lifted a finger to touch the tip of her nose.

“Are you serious? You’re going to mock me? Come on,
Rafe! Let me go.”

Her finger was still on her nose.

“This is so embarrassing.”

“You can stop now.”

Grateful, she dropped her hand and glared at him.

“Are you done?”

“Oh, Miss Kringle, we are very far from done.”

THE LUST THAT SWIRLED through Rafe’s body made him
dizzy. Through fair means or foul, he had Ivy Kringle at his mercy, forced to
do whatever he asked of her until he let her go with a kiss on the lips. If she
had any idea about the depths of his desire for her, she would never have
admitted that little secret, but now, all he could think about was checking off
his long list of wishes.

He shook his head to banish the idea of ivy as his
sexual slave for the evening – despite his take-charge attitude, he wasn’t a
man who was into forcing women. He wanted Ivy to want him because she couldn’t
help herself, not because her magical genetics had given her a convenient
little allergic reaction. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t find a way to take
advantage of the situation.

Rafe craved her, almost more than he craved his next
breath, and from her odd reaction to his touch earlier that evening, he had a
feeling that she wanted him, too. The curiosity in her voice when she admitted
that she didn’t specifically object to giving up control had had him hard in an
instant, and for the first time he wondered if their sexual desires might not
be more in line than he had previously thought.

To hell with it. This is my only chance to find
out.

She was still glaring at him.

“What does that mean, we aren’t done?”

“It means that I want to finish what we started
earlier in your office.”

The look on Ivy’s face was pure shock, but there was
heat, too, sparking in her beautiful blue-green eyes.

“You can’t. I mean, we can’t.”

“Yes, I really think we can.”

“You would force me?” There was a note of pain in her
voice, of disappointment and horror that had Rafe moving swiftly to cup her
chin, tilting her eyes up to his.

“No. Never. Is that clear? I would never, ever force
you.”

The relief in her eyes was palpable, until he
continued, “But I’m still not going to let you go. Not yet.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I’m not going to do anything you don’t want me to do.
That you don’t agree to.”

“What if I don’t want you to do anything?” Her voice
was slightly panicked, but slightly curious.

Rafe grinned.

“Then I’ll just have to experiment until we figure out
what you like. Why don’t we say until midnight? No matter what, I’ll kiss you
at midnight and you’re free to go.”

After a long moment in which an intoxicating blend of
anxiety and heat swirled in her eyes, Ivy nodded almost imperceptibly, and Rafe
resisted the urge to beat his chest in triumph. She was still wary as hell, and
if he didn’t handle this just right, it would be over before it started. He
wanted her interested, but not scared of him. He wanted to show her that he
could cherish her and bring them both great pleasure if she would only let him.
It was an odd place to be as Rafe realized that while he finally had her
completely at his mercy, she was the one with all the power. A little rattled,
he stepped behind her.

“Tell me more about the mistletoe allergy,” he
ordered, threading his fingers through her silken hair before easing it out of
the way to bare her neck.

“Mom first noticed it when we were kids. We had to ban
it from the village because Noelle was too good at putting it up everywhere and
getting the rest of us to do her chores.”

Rafe set his lips to the curve of her neck, supremely
pleased at the slight catch in her breath and the way she tilted her head to
give him better access.

“You liked this before,” he murmured, “So I thought
we’d start here. Do you like it when I kiss your throat? Tell me.”

“Yes,” she breathed as he gripped her waist.

Ivy didn’t protest as Rafe trailed his lips along her
shoulder, nudging the miniscule strap of her dress out of the way.

“It’s a dangerous thing to give the wrong man all this
power.”

“Are you the wrong man?” Ivy breathed, and Rafe
chuckled.

“Probably, but I can’t help myself. I’ve wanted you
since the moment you walked into my door with the proposal for Kringle Works.”

“But that’s – ” Ivy swallowed and tried again, “I
didn’t know.”

“I thought that you’d run screaming for the hills if
you knew half the things I’ve wanted to do to you. With you.” Rafe moved her
hair aside to taste the other shoulder, letting the straps of her dress dangle
by her elbows. She didn’t seem to notice.

“Like what?” Ivy murmured, and Rafe was stunned at the
eagerness in her voice. Taking a chance, he slid his hands down to her hips and
pulled her ass back up against his cock. She gasped.

“Like everything,” he gritted out, forcing himself to
hold still and not rock against the lush globes. Under her clothes, he could
feel that she was curvier than he had expected, and wondered what other
wonderful surprises she had in store for him.

“Oh, princess, the things I could show you. But I
don’t want you to use mistletoe as an excuse. I want you to accept everything I
have to give because that’s what you want, too. Not objecting isn’t enough,
Ivy. I need to know that you want me.”

He hoped he was making sense, but she was moving her
ass against him – tiny little movements that had his eyes rolling back into his
head.
Fuck.

“I want you.”

The relief that crashed over Rafe was like a
benediction, but he still didn’t want to scare her.

Gentle. Careful. Respectful.

“You are to tell me if I start to do anything that
makes you unhappy or pushes you out of your comfort zone. And that is an
order.”

Ivy hesitated, and then, “It’s all out of my comfort
zone.”

Rafe laughed and nipped her shoulder, but she’d gone
stiff and distant under his hands.

“You asked.”

The tiny seed of suspicion that had taken root earlier
that evening burrowed deeper, sending out tendrils of doubt and disbelief. He
turned her around to scan her face. Her lips were pressed together, her eyes
wide and stormy.

“Ivy,” he ordered, “tell me about the last man you
fucked.”

It would kill him to hear it, but he had to know – if
something bad had happened to her, if some prick had disappointed her or taken
her too far – so he waited, gut clenched, prepared for the worst.

Crickets.

Rafe frowned, “That was an order.”

“There isn’t anything to say.” A delicate blush heated
her cheeks.

“I don’t understand. You have to tell me, right?”

“I can only follow an order if it’s within the realm
of possibility,” she said, testily.

“What does that mean? That you’ve never – oh my God.”

Rafe stumbled back from her so fast that he actually
tripped, banging his hip on the desk before fumbling into one of the visitor’s
chairs.

“You’re a virgin,” he choked out.

“You don’t have to say it like
that,”
Ivy
replied, waspish, “Everyone is at one point or another.”

Rafe scrubbed his hands over his face.

Fucking hell.

He knew she was the kind of woman who would be picky
about her liaisons, and in a delicate position because of her family, but…
never.
This beautiful, vibrant woman had never had a man. Rafe was filled with horror
and anticipation in equal measure. She had admitted that she wanted him. He
would be her first. No matter what happened between them from now on, she was
going to remember this forever.

I don’t think I can do it.

Not giving himself time for the swift mental kick at
his own stupidity in letting her go, Rafe stood and crossed back to her. He was
going to kiss her and send her on her merry way before he did something that
shocked the
innocent
Miss Kringle into the middle of next week.

“What are you doing?” she breathed.

“This was a bad idea. I should never have – let’s just
forget it. I’m sorry, Ivy.”

He lowered his head, regret and frustrated lust
churning in his belly.

She turned her head away.

“Ivy –”

“I thought you wanted me.”

Shit.

IVY COULDN’T HELP THE rush of tears that filled her
eyes and clogged her voice. This whole night was turning out to be her greatest
fantasy and her worst nightmare all rolled into one. Rafe had her trapped, at
his mercy, and had seemed determined to make sure he was giving rather than
taking, insisting that she participate, not just follow orders. Ivy had swiftly
melted under the teasing strokes of his lips on her shoulders and throat, and
the shockingly hard and huge press of his cock against her ass.

I want this
, she had thought. He hadn’t thought
of her as Santa’s daughter or his cool business partner. He had thought of her
as Ivy, a woman he wanted to seduce.

And then she’d ruined it by giving up the one piece of
knowledge guaranteed to send him running – her complete lack of real sexual
experience. He wanted to kiss her? Fine. That didn’t mean she had to like it.

Ivy waited for the press of his lips, fighting tears,
but it never came. When she looked up, he was watching her, bemused.

“I don’t know what to do here,” he admitted, and the
note of uncertainty in his voice warmed her considerably. Ivy grabbed his tie
and used it to blot away tears, and then composed herself, taking a deep
breath. He didn’t want to hurt her. That was good. She just needed to get him
past the idea that he ever would.