A Madaris Bride for Christmas. Brenda Jackson

      “What do we need to talk about?”

      His chuckle sounded like a low growl in his throat. “I think you know.”

      Carly had a pretty good idea. He held a key card to the scanner and a new set of numbers appeared on the keypad. She watched as he punched one.

      “Where are we going?” she asked.

      “To my suite.”

      “Your suite?” Blood pounded in her temples.

      “Yes, my suite.”

      She tightened her grip on her purse. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

      “Neither am I, but that’s the only place I know where we can have absolute privacy.”

      She didn’t want privacy. She didn’t want to talk at all. Now that she knew who he was, she could make a promise that she would keep the other night to herself. Nothing like it would happen again. She liked working here. And more than anything, she needed her job.

      She was about to speak when the back wall of the elevator slid open. She hadn’t expected it and would have tumbled out into a beautiful living room had Lee not reached out and caught her hand.

      She wished he hadn’t done that. Immediately, a sensation she couldn’t describe flowed through her from his touch.

      “You okay?” he asked with concern in his eyes.

      She nodded. “Yes, I’m fine.”

      She was in full control of her balance...although she was questioning her senses.... She stepped off the elevator, which had opened directly into his suite. The place was simply gorgeous. But she shouldn’t be surprised. He owned one of the most elegant hotels on the Vegas Strip; anything was possible.

      “Make yourself at home. Would you care for something to drink?”

      She watched him remove his jacket and toss it on the back of a chair before heading toward the kitchen. “No, thank you.”

      “I hope you don’t mind if I do. A beer sounds pretty good right now.”

      She watched him open the refrigerator before what he’d said sank in.

      Make yourself at home.

      There was no way she could do that. “You wanted to talk.”

      “Yes,” he said, returning from the kitchen with his beer to find her still standing. “We are definitely going to talk. How about if we sit down first?”

      She preferred standing, but she sat down on a plush sofa and he did too.

      “That night on the balcony,” he began. “Did you know who I was?”

      She met his gaze, surprised by his question. “Of course not. Had I known who you were, I would not have...” She swallowed. There was no need to remind him of what she had done that night.

      “Initiated a kiss between us?”

      Why had he gone there and done the very thing she hadn’t wanted him to do? Since he had reminded them both of what had happened, she said, “No, I would not have initiated it.”

      He held her gaze for a long time, slowly sipping his beer right from the bottle. “Why did you tell me you were a guest here at the hotel when you’re an employee?”

      Carly nervously gnawed her bottom lip. “Because that night I was a guest here. It was my birthday, and I wanted to do something special, so I booked a room in the hotel for one night.”

      “So it was your birthday?”

      Had he doubted her? “Yes. Would you like to see my driver’s license?”

      He shook his head. “No, that won’t be necessary.”

      She had a question of her own. “Why did you lead me to believe you were a businessman passing through?”

      “Did I lead you to believe that?” he asked.

      “Yes.”

      He took another sip of his beer. When had watching a man drink beer from a bottle become so sensual? And why did he have to have such beautiful eyes? They were the same eyes that had haunted her dreams two nights in a row.

      “I don’t recall misleading you,” he said, breaking into her close perusal of him. “I answered each of your inquiries truthfully. You asked where I came from and I told you my terrace. There was no need to explain that it was the terrace on the executive floor. You also commented about this being a beautiful hotel and I agreed.”

      He stretched his legs out in front of him. “Now tell me, when did I mislead you?”

      She shifted in her seat and noticed the way his gaze adjusted to the movement of her body. She drew in a deep breath when she saw heat in his eyes. “Okay, you didn’t mislead me per se, but you weren’t completely forthcoming either. You didn’t tell me you owned the hotel.”

      He smiled. “That’s something I don’t share with a lot of people. Those who need to know already do.”

      “Okay, now I know too,” she said, standing.

      He stood as well and she wished her gaze hadn’t been drawn to the way his pants stretched across masculine thighs when he did so. “Well, I’m glad we got that all cleared up,” he said.

      In a way, she was too. She hoped that was his way of letting her know she could keep her job. “I’m glad too. We can both admit it was a mistake.”

      He lifted a brow. “What was?”

      “That night. On the balcony.” The kiss, she thought.

      “On the contrary, Carly. That night. On the balcony. Was not a mistake.” He’d emphasized each statement.

      And then he stunned her even more when he said, “In fact, I think we should pick up where we left off.”

      * * *

      Lee saw the shocked look on Carly’s face and wished he could kiss her. He drew in a long, deep breath. She smelled good. She looked good. Gone were the toque and chef jacket, replaced by a cute purple blouse and a pair of snug-fitting jeans. He knew just how snug they were since he’d walked behind her a minute or two without being detected when she was heading for the elevator. She had some serious curves and the best-looking backside he’d ever seen.

      “We can’t pick up where we left off,” she said.

      “I don’t see why not,” he countered, finishing off his beer and placing the empty bottle on the table. “I’d like to get to know you.”

      She actually looked stunned. “Why?”

      He could give her several reasons, but he stated the one that made the most sense. “Because I’m a man and you are a woman. A very beautiful and desirable woman.”

      Lee fathomed from her expression that she didn’t believe him. Surely she was aware of just how striking she was. High cheekbones, skin a perfect shade of brown, an exquisite pair of lips; he could go on...so he did. She had a gorgeous pair of legs that looked damn good in stilettos, and he liked the way her firm breasts pressed against her blouse, showing the tips of her nipples.

      He was getting aroused just looking at her. Surely some man, probably several, had told her how heart-stoppingly attractive she was.

      “Mr. Madaris.”

      He lifted a brow. Mr. Madaris? “I’m Lee, remember.”

      She lifted her chin. “That was before I found out you were my boss.”

      He smiled. “Chef Blanchard is your boss. I just happen to be one of the guys who owns the hotel.”

      She took a deep breath and then exhaled slowly. He figured she was trying to regroup. “Lee. Remember the one thing I told you about me? The reason I was celebrating