Secret Santa: An Anthology (Harlequin Blaze, 292, Band 292) - Softcover

Über die Autorinnen und Autoren

Isabel Sharpe was not born pen in hand like so many of her fellow writers. After she quit work to stay home with her firstborn son and nearly went out of her mind, she started writing. After more than thirty novels for Harlequin—along with another son—Isabel is more than happy with her choice these days. She loves hearing from readers. Write to her at www.isabelsharpe.com.

After a varied career path that included barbecue-joint waitress, corporate number-cruncher and bug-business maven, Jennifer LaBrecque has found her true calling writing contemporary romance.  Jennifer lives in suburban Atlanta with a Chihuahua who runs the whole show.

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CHRISTIAN HUSTLED DOWN the corridor toward the office of Douglas Creighton, the owner and publisher of Connoisseur magazine. He'd been summoned by the big boss, and since there was a promotion dangling on the horizon, he wasn't about to keep him waiting any longer than necessary.

Christian had spent the past eight months trying to repair his tarnished reputation after the disastrous incident with Maureen Bowen in the boardroom, and that meant dodging advances from other women in the company who believed he was an easy catch, especially Stacey Roberts, who'd made it her mission to end his oath of celibacy.

He'd worked hard ever since Maureen's departure from the company, dedicating long hours at the office coming up with new and innovative sales strategies that had catapulted him to the number-one sales executive for the past six months in a row. He'd instantly turned down invitations to join his buddies at the local hot spot for a few drinks and an evening of hitting on willing women. He no longer took two-hour pleasure lunches, and the only phone calls he received at work were strictly business. Even his friends were calling him a monk because it had been months since he'd gotten laid.

No doubt about it, he'd cleaned up his act and kept his focus on the job and the possibility of snagging the sales director promotion he wanted so badly. In a few weeks, after Christmas and the first of the year, he'd finally find out if his drive, dedication and respectable way of living had paid off.

As he made his way through the executive floor toward Creighton's wing of offices, he passed a maze of cubicles dominating the center of the twenty-seventh floor of the Jackman Butler Building in New York City, where employees were busy at work. The outer offices flanking the cubicles had amazing views of Manhattan and were reserved for the higher-ups in the company. It was Christian's ultimate goal to earn one of those coveted offices for himself, with floor-to-ceiling windows, paneled walls to hang pictures, and a cherrywood desk large enough to spread out his work without feeling cramped.

He returned his gaze back to where he was going just as Stacey stepped out from her cubicle and deliberately into his path. Her sudden appearance in front of him forced Christian to come to an abrupt halt or collide into her Double Ds, which were one breath away from spilling out of the fur-trimmed bodice of the sexy Mrs. Claus costume she'd worn for the department's holiday party that afternoon. The red velvet minidress was form-fitting, way too short and no doubt had most of the males in the office fantasizing about getting lucky with her for Christmas.

Unfortunately, Stacey had her sights set on him, and he wasn't interested. He'd thwarted her advances more times than he could count, but she gave the words determination and persistence new meaning. She was just too easy, and despite his own bad-boy reputation, he realized that he'd changed over the past eight months. He'd become more particular and discriminating, and less promiscuous. Somewhere along the way, he'd developed standards and overly assertive women like Stacey no longer appealed to him.

Still, he smiled at her because there was no sense in making an enemy out of the woman by outright telling her how he felt. He did, after all, have to work with her every day. "Cute outfit, Stace. I'm sure you'll be a big hit at the party today."

"I'm glad you like it," she said as her fingers toyed with the white furry ball hanging from the tip of her red velvet Santa hat.

"Care to jingle my bells?" She jiggled her breasts, and the two little silver bells attached to the bow barely securing the front of her dress made a light tinkling sound.

He wasn't about to touch that double entendre. "Uh, sorry, but I'll have to pass. If I don't hustle, I'm going to be late for my meeting with Douglas."

"You're no fun anymore, Christian," she said, her cherry-red lips forming a sultry pout. "You know what they say about all work and no play..."

Yeah, it would hopefully give him the promotion he was after. "I'm sure I'll have fun at the holiday party this afternoon."

She brightened considerably at the mention of the depart-ment's get-together. "That's right. We're exchanging Secret Santa gifts." She ran her index finger down the front of his tie and leaned in close. "If you'll let me be your secret Santa Claus, I promise to give you a gift guaranteed to blow your mind, among other things," she added suggestively.

Jee-suz. Could the woman be any more forthright? At one time her blatant approach might have interested him, but now he just felt trapped. The need to escape, and fast, overwhelmed him. "Uh, thanks, I'll remember that."

"Ummm, be sure that you do."

Before she could proposition him again, he stepped around her and made a quick getaway. Only then did he notice that they'd had an avid audience who'd witnessed the entire exchange.

Great. Just great.

The guys in the department were shaking their heads in disappointment, as if they couldn't believe he'd turned down a sure thing. And then there was Drew, who was openly gay, and was grinning at Christian in that flirtatious, come-to-daddy way of his.

Christian shuddered. He wasn't homophobic and worked with Drew without any problems. He even considered him a friend, of sorts. But he was uncomfortable with the other guys' jokes that if Christian ever decided to stray to the other side, Drew had first dibs on him.

No way. No how. Christian was heterosexual all the way, and he was just on hiatus from dating at the moment to focus on his career. Who knew being celibate would be so difficult, and would compromise his manhood in the process, for crying out loud?

Shaking his head, he beelined it down the long corridor that led to the executive suite that was Douglas Creighton's office. He walked past a long panel of glass on the right-hand side, which framed Amanda Creighton's office and mini-suite—a great perk for being the executive editor of Connoisseur and heiress to one helluva lucrative publishing company. The floor-to-ceiling window afforded her a modicum of privacy in her inner sanctum, yet allowed her to keep an eye on what was going on outside her office. From what he'd seen, the double doors behind her large desk led to a room furnished with a couch, sitting area, bathroom and even a small kitchenette.

But even though Amanda had been born with the proverbial silver spoon in her mouth, she wasn't a prima donna as most people assumed, based on the first impression Amanda usually gave—of composed sophistication with a reserved personality all wrapped up in a staid, button-up designer suit or outfit. Instead, she was a woman who actually involved herself in all aspects of the company, including contributing her own monthly column, involving herself in various projects and assignments, and generally making sure that everything ran smoothly. She had a way of pitching in without offending anyone, and in the process earned the respect of her co-workers.

Christian came to a stop at her open door. She was standing to the left of her desk at her tall cherrywood filing cabinet, and he lifted his hand to knock just as she pulled out a lower drawer and bent over at the waist to retrieve a file. His hand stilled as he took in the sensual curve of her hips and the sweetly shaped bottom in a pair of tailored black pants.

Awareness hit him hard, and his lower body stirred. The reaction that Stacey had been after made its presence known now—a purely sexual response that reassured him that he was an all-American male who enjoyed women.

But being attracted to the boss's daughter was another thing entirely. Despite how much he might desire this woman,...