Kiss Me, Katie! & Hug Me, Holly!

“It’s him,” Holly said decisively.

Katie definitely knew better than to trust her, but what could go wrong this time? Everyone knew Matt was going to be Santa, it’d been in the weekly office memo.

The office memo never lied.

“Okay.” She handed her still full flute to Holly. “Wish me luck.”

“Merry Kissing and Happy Fondling,” Holly said, lifting her drink in a toast.

Katie smoothed her dress in a useless attempt to scoot the thing farther down on her thighs. Purchasing the bold, red, stretchy number had been a huge departure for her, not to mention a bit of a strain on her checkbook. She could only hope Santa liked it, since she’d spent nearly her entire month’s budget on it.

That was okay. If it worked, it’d be well worth having to eat macaroni and cheese from a box for the next month.

She stopped tugging at the hem and straightened, which emphasized the provocative bodice. Good. She, secret chicken of the world, needed all the help she could get. With a hard swallow, she let her high heels lead the way.

To Santa.

To the perfect man beneath the costume.

To a good, hot Christmas kiss.

He saw her coming, she watched as he focused in on her. To be sure he got the full effect, she took a deep breath.

In response, Santa…choked on his drink. The woman standing next to him, Edwina, who ran the small coffee shop in the lobby, starting pounding on his back, which brought on a fresh attack of coughing.

Grabbing his glass, Edwina set it aside and lifted his arms over his head-or that’s what she tried to do, but as Santa was tall and Edwina was…well, not, the only thing she managed to accomplish was to flail his arms near the region of his chest as she bounced up and down in front of him.

From a distance, this seemed like some sort of comical dance, and since Edwina wore a short green cocktail dress, now flapping wildly as she leaped around in front of him, she looked like an elf to Matt’s Santa.

Finally, he waved a hand to indicate he was fine, and when he managed to convince Edwina of this, she left him alone.

“I think it’s the costume,” she whispered as she passed Katie. “It’s really such a trial to wear it successfully. That poor man should be nominated for sainthood.”

“I agree,” Katie murmured, because now that she was close, she could see how right Edwina was. The suit had to weigh a ton, what with the heavy red material and white faux fur, not to mention the added belly and big black boots.

Could she even press close enough past all that tummy to kiss him?

Yes, she decided. Yes, she could. Besides, she couldn’t back out now, not with Holly’s gaze burning a mocking, laughing hole in her back.

The mistletoe she’d decided on was only about five feet behind Matt, around the corner, out of view from the rest of the party. Smiling sweetly, heart thundering, she stepped closer. She really didn’t know what she expected…maybe for him to make things easy, to back up, possibly right beneath the hanging plant?

He didn’t. Instead, he held his ground, watching her from beneath the silliest pair of glasses she’d ever seen. The outside of the lenses were tinted in a design of Santa’s bright, laughing eyes, so that she couldn’t see Matt’s own blue gaze.

She assumed he was smiling, too. Hard to tell with the beard, but hoping for the best, she took another step, silently willing him to help her out.

Why wasn’t he backing up?

Instead he tilted his head, as if asking her what she was doing.

She thought that should be rather obvious!

“I don’t know if you realize this,” she said. “But right behind you and around the corner, there’s some mistletoe…just sort of hanging there.”

Nothing.

“I helped decorate. It’s waiting for some couple to get themselves beneath it. So they can kiss,” she added helpfully.

Still no response!

Okay, she could admit she didn’t know Matt well, but she did know he wasn’t an idiot. He was vice president, for God’s sake. Yes, he was sedate, he was mature and focused, but she was offering to kiss him!

What was wrong with him? According to Cosmopolitan magazine, there wasn’t a red-blooded man alive who would turn down a kiss! The editors had promised!

But Matt didn’t budge and her nerve was fading fast. She was beginning to feel very sorry she’d ever thought about doing this. In fact, maybe she should switch her Christmas wish from a kiss to a big black hole opening up in the floor so it could swallow her.

“You are in there, aren’t you?” she asked with a teasing smile to hide her embarrassment.

Slowly Santa turned and craned his neck, studying the plant in question.

Then looked back at her.

She smiled encouragingly, knowing her time was running out. Any second now, Holly was going to decide she wanted Matt for herself, and she’d have no such difficulties getting him-or any man-beneath that blasted mistletoe.

No, she couldn’t fail. Take charge time.

Grabbing Santa’s hand, she pulled him around the corner, noting his hand was big and warm and callused. At the first tug she also took in the fact that he seemed bigger and more powerful than Matt’s lean physique had led her to believe, but now wasn’t the time to dwell on that when she had him so close to her goal.

The noise of the party followed them, but they were completely alone in the hallway. Around them, all the office doors were shut, with not another soul in sight. The music and laughter from the party seemed almost surreal.

They were in their own little world.

Right beneath the mistletoe.

And he was staring at her from behind those ridiculous glasses and fake facial hair; the only real part of him available to her was his mouth.

Perfect, since that was all she happened to need at the moment.

Reaching up to touch his shoulders, she leaned in close. “Merry Christmas, Matt,” she whispered, and set her lips to his in the connection she’d been dreaming about all night.

She felt his startled jerk, felt the immediate tensing of his big body, but she just pressed closer and deepened the kiss, swallowing the growl of desire he made.

Of course it also could have been a sound of surprise, since she’d given him little choice in this kissing matter, but she figured if he hated it, he’d back off.

He didn’t.

Instead, his hands went to her waist, tightening when she pulled off his glasses and tossed them over his shoulder. He tasted like champagne…like wonderful, delicious male…like heaven. It was better than her wildest dreams, and then he was tilting her head for better access and kissing her back. She nearly fell to the floor because it was the most blazingly, most pleasurable sensation she’d ever experienced in her life.

One of his large hands cupped her cheek, his fingers playing havoc over her skin as he slowly pulled back and stared at her.

She nearly staggered from the wonder of it all. Never had a kiss so rocked her world, left her so off balance, so dizzy with rocketing emotions. “That…was some mistletoe,” she gasped.

“It had nothing to do with the mistletoe.”

No, he was right, she could see that in his blue eyes, in the lines of his mouth, that wonderful, soft yet firm, incredibly talented, mouth.

Confusion had her taking a step back, so that Santa’s hands fell to his sides. This was supposed to be just a