Hell no.
Fuck no.
She twisted her fingers. “What? Is there news?”
Those damn blue eyes. Fuck.
No.
Absolutely not. I had a flight to catch to a cabin that didn’t have a stitch of Christmas attached to it. I was out of here.
“I’ll do anything. Pay whatever I have in my savings account to get someone to be my Santa.”
“Anything?”
She nodded. “Anything.”
My phone pulsed again.
Parker: I know you have that suit. Don’t be an asshole.
Once upon a time I’d have gladly donned my suit. Not now. Not even for a pair of legs up to her damn neck. There was no way in hell.
She put her palms on the desk and leaned into me. “Pride has left the building, Mr. Murdock. I need a Santa to save my company and this party.”
My spine heated.
There was nothing sexy about the bulky sweater she was wearing. Save for the fact that she had a belt cinched around her narrow waist which emphasized her curves. The same curves that had made me insane the night before, and were doing a really good job of keeping me in the same state right now.
I steepled my fingers together. “What would you say if I said I have a Santa suit in the building?”
“Would it fit me?”
I raised one brow. “Who would be your helper elf?”
“Mel. I’m sure I…” She swallowed. “I can make it work.”
“The suit is cut to fit me.”
Her eyes widened. “What? Why?”
“That is not a story we’re going to get into. Suffice it to say, I don’t wear the
suit for anyone.”
Her eyebrows snapped down. “Not even for those kids downstairs?”
“Not my problem.”
She stood up straight. “That’s unconscionable.”
“I don’t do Christmas, Miss Kane. Not even when you give me that look.”
“What do you mean you ‘don’t do Christmas’?”
I stood up and circled the desk to stand in front of her. “Call me Scrooge. I’m okay with it.”
“But there’s innocent children who believe in Santa. They believe that someone is out there to—”