All She Wants for Christmas. Stacy Connelly

      But there was no reason to worry, because it wasn’t real, Holly insisted as Clay walked back over, ignoring the flash of attraction that felt 100 percent genuine.

      “Sorry about that,” Clay said. “Duty calls. I hope Marie hasn’t been spilling all my secrets.”

      “Just one,” Marie confessed, with a guilty glance at Holly. A champagne cork popped nearby, and she added, “That bottle is calling my name. See you!”

      As Marie made her escape, Clay looked at Holly. Seeming unconcerned by the secrets his assistant might have revealed, he said, “As incredible as it seems, I don’t know what I’d do without her. She keeps me sane. This past year, that was a full-time job.”

      It was the second time Clay had mentioned business troubles. He had such a commanding presence, Holly had a hard time imagining a problem Clay couldn’t solve by force of will alone. A company didn’t gain wealth and reputation like Forrester Industries without a man at the top who could forge through difficulties with the subtlety of a battering ram.

      An image of Clay dressed as Santa rose in her mind. Who was he really? A man who cared enough about a group of foster children to give them a Christmas they’d always remember? Or the businessman with a ruthless reputation?

       “If it isn’t our fearless leader.”

      Tensing at the greeting, Clay turned and nodded at the silver-haired man who strutted toward them, champagne glass in hand. “Evening, Jensen.”

      “This is some party,” the man said, his narrowed gaze sweeping the elegant ballroom.

      “The employees deserve it. It’s been a challenging year.”

      Jensen snorted. “Challenging is right, with all the changes you’ve made. But what the hell?” he added, waving his hand at the surrounding ballroom. “Nothing like buying company loyalty, right?”

      He laughed, but the tension crackling between the two men told Holly that Jensen wasn’t joking. No humor existed in the man’s beady eyes, which gleamed with thinly disguised malice.

      “I’m not trying to buy anything or anyone. The employees are loyal because they understand the changes I’m making are for the best.”

      “The best for whom? Not for the company, that’s for damn sure. Your father understood—”

      “My father understood a great many things when it came to business,” Clay interrupted. His words cutting off abruptly, he took a deep breath, his shoulders rolling beneath the crisp tuxedo jacket as he visibly forced himself to relax. “But when it comes people, I know a thing or two my father didn’t.”

      Jensen’s ruddy complexion darkened, but Clay never gave the man the opportunity to argue. The band switched to a slow song, and he grabbed Holly’s hand. “If you’ll excuse us, I owe my date a dance.”

      Holly had no choice but to follow Clay to the dance floor. The glittering chandelier spun overhead as he twirled her around, leaving her light-headed and breathless. Not just from his dizzying, sure-footed steps, but from intimate contact. With a wobbly laugh, she said, “Being around you certainly keeps a woman on her toes.”

      As if the confrontation with Jensen had never taken place, Clay flashed a smile. “Don’t worry. I promise not to step on them.”

      “That’s not what I mean,” she chided. “First, you maneuvered me into coming to this party, and now onto the dance floor.”

      “Hey, I didn’t maneuver you. I asked. You said yes.” Confidence shone in his blue eyes, as if her answer had never been in doubt.

      And, really, what other answer could she have given? The whole night had been filled with magic. Santa had come to Hopewell House, thanks to Clay, but once again Holly warned herself not to let emotion carry her away. She’d seen it before at Hopewell House and throughout her childhood in foster homes, especially around the holidays.

      People were filled with good cheer and high spirits. Donations of toys, food, and money rolled in, but by New Year’s, the good cheer, the high spirits, and the needy children were forgotten.

      No matter how wonderful Clay might seem, he, too, would disappear. Best to simply enjoy the moment and not to look ahead. And right now, wrapped in his arms, she found the moment so easy to enjoy.

      “You did say yes,” Clay reminded her when she remained silent for so long.

      Striving for a light tone, she replied, “Of course, I said yes. What was it Marie said? Something about an inability to resist free champagne and cheesecake?”

      He gave a mock groan. “I can see I’ll have to keep the two of you apart in the future.”

      Clay spun her into an elegant turn, and she caught sight of Jensen on the sidelines. A frown still twisted his face, and he looked to be in a heated discussion with two other men.

      She wondered about the changes Clay had referred to and the loyalty Jensen thought he was trying to buy. Did some employees disapprove of the company’s “take-no-prisoners” attitude? Was the party an attempt to bribe his own people?

      Only hours before, Holly might have thought so, but now denial rose inside her. She’d seen the respect his employees showed. Respect money couldn’t buy. And even though she couldn’t forget the heartbreak and humiliation written on the old man’s face when he accused Clay of destroying his family’s company, she no longer knew what to believe.

      Clay spun her once more beneath the chandelier, and her breath caught as his muscular thighs brushed against hers. The unspoken awareness in his eyes left her feeling weak. Her knees nearly buckled, and her hand tightened on his shoulder.

      She knew what she wanted to believe, but she’d put her faith in people before only to be let down. Mark was the latest in a list of disappointments that went back as far as she could remember.

      Unbidden, a memory came to mind of the Parkers, smiling at her. “We’ve got a big house and a nice yard where our dog loves to play. There are plenty of kids in our neighborhood you can make friends with. We can’t wait for you to come live with us.”

      She’d been five at the time, young enough to still care about things like yards and dogs and kids to play with, but most of all she’d wanted a family, and the Parkers were supposed to be hers. Everyone had promised. The Parkers, her caseworker, her foster family at the time. And she’d believed them, but in the end, the most important lesson learned was that promises, not rules, were made to be broken.

      As the music faded away, Holly stepped out of Clay’s arms and pulled her hand from his to applaud the musicians. It was an excuse to reclaim some much-needed distance. His knowing gaze called her on her cowardice, but saving face wasn’t nearly as important as protecting her heart.

      Guiding her off the dance floor, Clay stopped at the dessert table. “Here, you have to try this.” He loaded a plate for the two of them, cut off a piece of cheesecake, and held out the fork. “Marie went to great lengths to save these from certain frostbite.”

      Holly leaned forward to take a bite. Strawberries topped the dessert, the sweet taste combining with the rich, creamy, melt-in-your-mouth filling. Pulling back, she found Clay watching closely. Her tongue streaked out to catch a stray crumb, and his eyes darkened with undisguised desire. Her skin tingled from that heated look, anticipating his touch. When he brushed his thumb against the corner of her mouth, she almost groaned in longing.

      His voice hoarse, he asked, “How was it?”

      “It—it was delicious.”

      Clay cupped her jaw, but the intensity in his gaze held her motionless. Alarm bells rang, the warning drowned out by her pounding heartbeat, as he bent his head and kissed her. The ballroom faded away until she was aware only of his fingers curving over her jaw and his mouth, warm and persuasive, against her own. Better than cheesecake, better than champagne, better than anything she could imagine. She wanted nothing