Название | Snowed In With The Reluctant Tycoon |
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Автор произведения | Nina Singh |
Жанр | Контркультура |
Серия | Mills & Boon Cherish |
Издательство | Контркультура |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9781474060578 |
He spotted her coming out of the kitchen with more drinks. Several people stopped her along the way; she gave one woman an affectionate air kiss. Several men approached her as well, one taking part of the load off her hands. They seemed friendly but not overly familiar. These men were all clearly just colleagues.
Not that it was any of his business. For all he knew she already had a steady boyfriend or partner. Women who looked like Carli and who had as much going for them weren’t single for long.
Jocelyn waved a hand in front of his face. “Hello? Where’d you just drift off to?”
He smiled apologetically. “Sorry, I was just admiring all the Christmas decorations. Carli’s got quite a talent for it.”
“Really? Is that what you were admiring?”
Uh-oh. He had to be careful here. He couldn’t be caught ogling his father’s project manager. “What else?”
She gave him a knowing look but luckily dropped the matter. “Anyway, I’m glad two Hammond men will be at Carli’s party after all.”
Justin turned his full attention to her. “Excuse me?”
“You and your father. He never misses one of Carli’s soirees.”
Damn. The last thing Justin needed was to run into his father right now. Their brief meeting this morning had been awkward enough.
“I don’t see him yet though,” Jocelyn added. “He always seems to arrive much later. Likes to make an entrance.”
That definitely sounded like the attention-craving father Justin remembered from his childhood. And from everything he’d been told or had read about the man.
He still had the chance to make his getaway before Jackson arrived. All the more reason to leave right now. So, what was stopping him?
He should have never come in the first place. He knew it had been a mistake. He never even went to these events at his own company. But seeing Miranda again after all these years, remembering how she’d always been so kind to him. Even as he’d been making her life miserable with one childish antic after another.
Still, he had every intention of gently turning Miranda down. But the woman had not taken no for an answer.
Someone turned up the volume on the sound system and “Holly Jolly Christmas” started pounding through the room. Great. Now he was going to have to put up with the damn Christmas carols again.
Jocelyn squealed as the song came on. He’d almost forgotten she was standing in front of him. Again. “I love this song!” she exclaimed. “Let’s dance!”
Before he had a chance to protest, she pulled him into the center of the room where two other couples were already bouncing along to the tune. This wasn’t the traditional version of the song he was used to. It was a bouncy, bassy remake of some sort. With a bit of urban rap lyrics thrown in between verses. As if the original song wasn’t annoying enough. He was supposed to dance to this?
Pretty much a version of hell. Still, he knew what to do. Several years of mandated dance lessons thanks to his society-norm-conscious mother came in handy during moments like this. He matched Jocelyn’s steps and earned a girly giggle when he dipped her.
By the time the song ended, Jocelyn was smiling from ear to ear. “You are quite a dancer, Mr. Justin Hammond.”
“I am a man of many talents.”
“Well, I don’t want to hog you all to myself,” she said, and before he knew it, she had somehow managed to steer them toward where Carli stood talking to a middle-aged man with a bad comb-over.
“You are the host of this party. You should be dancing too,” Jocelyn admonished as she pulled Justin in front of her. “Justin is a terrific dancer. And he needs a partner.” She turned to comb-over guy. “Tom, may I have the honor of this dance?”
Justin watched with both bemusement and dismay as Jocelyn and Tom walked onto the middle of the floor and started dancing.
“My assistant is not subtle,” Carli said. “Obviously.”
“Does that mean you’re not interested in dancing with me?”
She tilted her head. “I’d never dream of making you dance. To a Christmas song, no less. I know how much you dislike them.”
With that flippant comment, she tried to walk away. But he wasn’t going to let her. It was about time they hashed out some stuff, he figured. Otherwise, he was just going to keep letting her get under his skin. That would not bode well for either of them. Even if he was only going to be around her for a few days.
“On the contrary, I’d love a dance,” he said as he gently took her by the arm and led her to the makeshift dance floor.
The protest died on her lips as he spun her around toward him and started swaying with her to the music. He was close enough to sniff a hint of her perfume, a flowery subtle scent. Jasmine perhaps. It suited her.
As did the cocktail dress she wore, a silky, drippy number that hung on her curves in a tasteful, flattering way. He noticed she had whimsical snowman earrings dangling from her dainty lobes.
“See, I can dance to anything. Even annoying versions of Christmas songs.”
She gave an exasperated huff. “How can you not like Christmas carols? There’s got to be one that you’re fond of.”
He shook his head. “Can’t think of one.”
“Not even ‘Jingle Bells’?”
“I find that one particularly grating.”
The look she gave him was one mixed with both sympathy and bewilderment.
Justin sighed. She must think him the biggest Scrooge. “Christmas wasn’t quite the jolly and wonderful time in the Hammond household as it was for most people,” he admitted.
He twirled her around playfully as he said it.
“Makes no sense, I know,” he added. “Given how we make our livelihood. In some ways it just made things worse.”
“How so?”
“Well, for one thing, my father became even more obsessed with sales figures and profit projections. He’d go into the office early and come home late. Even more so than usual. His increased hours gave my parents yet one more excuse to argue.”
He almost laughed at that. Argue was hardly an adequate word for the knockdown, soul-crushing fights his parents used to have.
“It made for less than a peaceful holiday,” he added. Why was he telling her these things? This wasn’t something he particularly liked to talk about with anyone. Let alone a woman he’d just met a few hours ago. A woman who’d made it painfully clear that she didn’t seem to like him very much.
“That’s so very sad. I can’t imagine Christmas being a time of turmoil for a young child.”
Well, now she felt sorry for him. “I wasn’t looking for sympathy,” he said, with a little more force in his voice than he’d intended. “Besides, it’s not like I helped the situation. I was a bit of a frustrating child. As Miranda just pointed out.”
“You were just a child.”
“A rambunctious, unruly, very disobedient child.”
She shook her head. “But still a child.”
The look in her eyes was intense, he had the disquieting feeling she was looking deep into his soul in the most intimate way. What a silly notion that was. They were in the middle of an office holiday party, surrounded by people.
Before he could respond, the music changed. The upbeat, bouncy rhythm of “All I Want for Christmas” transitioned to the slow, rhythmic melody