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  “Did you change your mind?” he asked.

  Was he kidding? She wanted to jump him. Now. “No.”

  With a smile that turned her bones to mush, he raised his arm so that the mistletoe was above their heads.

  Oh, God.

  “Your move,” he whispered.

  She looked at his mouth, her own tingling in anticipation. “Maybe you could . . .”

  “Oh, no. I’m not taking advantage of a woman in a closet, drenched in champagne.” He smiled. “But if she wanted to take advantage of me, now see, that’s a different story entirely.”

  He was teasing her, his eyes lit with mischievousness and a wicked, wicked intent.

  “I’m a klutz,” she whispered. “I might hurt you by accident.”

  “I’ll take my chances.”

  She laughed. She couldn’t help it. She laughed, and he closed his eyes and puckered up, making her laugh some more, making it okay for her to lean in . . .

  And kiss him.

  Chapter 3

  Shayne felt her mouth touch his. Oh yeah, life was good, damn good.

  She was tentative. Jerky. As if maybe she hadn’t kissed in a while. It was the most arousing sensation, but right then and there, he knew. The one quick peck? Not going to be enough.

  Dropping the mistletoe, he cupped her face, his fingers gliding into her silky hair to hold her head as he better lined them up.

  Her hands lifted, hovering in the air for a beat before settling on his chest. A soft little murmur of wanting escaped her, and just like that, he went insta-hard. Her fingers dug into the material of his shirt, holding on just a little, telling him she felt the same, telling him he wasn’t alone in this odd sensation of not wanting to let go, not ever wanting to let go.

  And he didn’t even know her name . . .

  She opened her mouth a little, but that was all the invitation his tongue needed, and then her tongue and his were doing a slow dance, an age-old imitation of what he really wanted to be doing, and she was right there with him, and when they finally both pulled back, her eyes fluttered open. “Wow,” she whispered.

  Yeah. Definitely wow.

  “That was . . .” At a loss, she let out a low laugh. “I don’t even have the words.”

  Him either. That kiss had just registered off the scale for first kisses. Not really understanding why, he stroked a strand of hair from her face, then left his fingers on her because she was tightening her grip on his shirt, tugging ever so slightly, her gaze back on his mouth . . .

  “That was . . .” she repeated.

  “Wow,” he reminded her.

  “So wow.” She licked her lips, and then they lurched at each other and went at it again, deeper than before. Wetter.

  Hotter.

  Her hair fell the rest of the way, assisted by his fingers, and the second pencil hit the floor. She arched against him, bumping into the zipper of his pants. Apparently she liked what she felt behind that zipper because she let out a little gasping “oh,” and then a sound of pleasure from deep in her throat as her arms tightened around his neck, her hair flying all around them.

  God. He was in a closet, with an entire lobby full of people on the other side, important people that he’d brought here with his family connections so that he could further Sky High Air’s business, and what was he doing?

  Making out in a closet like a high-school kid.

  Only there was nothing high school about the mystery kisser in his arms. Christ, no. She was all woman, straining up on the tiptoes of her one-heeled foot to get closer. Closer worked for him. He hoisted her just a little higher so that he could rock his hips into hers, so that her breasts pressed into his chest.

  Her shoe hit the floor.

  It didn’t stop her, didn’t stop either of them. She let go of his shirt to entwine her arms around his neck. He let go of her head to slide his hands down her arms, up her slim spine, bared by that dress so he was touching smooth, silky skin. Hauling her closer, he turned, pressing her back against the door, where they strained against each other some more, the champagne from her dress soaking into his shirt.

  He didn’t care.

  But she slowly pulled back, breathing hard. Her eyes fluttered open and landed on his, glazed and dazed. Her gloss was gone, her mascara smudged. One of the thin straps on her little black dress had slipped off her shoulder, hanging down to her elbow.

  God, she was sweet. And hot. And such a sexy, wonderful mess.

  “That was some powerful mistletoe,” she whispered.

  He laughed. “I don’t think that had anything to do with the mistletoe.”

  Her gaze locked on his lips. “No?”

  “No.”

  “Maybe we should make sure.”

  That worked for him. The mistletoe lay where he’d dropped it, near their feet. He nudged it beneath the shelving unit, out of sight, prompting her to let out a low laugh that sounded like half anxiety, half anticipation as she stared up at him.

  He stared back, tracing her temple with his finger, stroking a strand of hair back . . . and then suddenly they were leaping at each other again, mouths fused, hands fighting for purchase on each other—

  Until a knock on the door behind them nearly gave him a heart attack. Jesus.

  “Hello in there?” came a woman’s voice.

  Maddie. Shit. Shayne pressed his forehead to the woman in his arms and closed his eyes.

  “Hello?” Maddie called again. “Is anyone in there?”

  Shayne set a finger to his mystery woman’s lips because maybe, if they were very, very quiet, maybe Maddie would go far, far away.

  “Shayne, is that you?”

  Ah, hell. Who was he kidding? It was Maddie, bulldog terrier. Once she’d locked her jaw on something, she never let go. “How did you know?”

  Through the door, she laughed. “When are you going to learn that I? Know everything.”

  “Know this. Go away.”

  “Touchy, touchy. What are you doing in there?”

  “Maddie?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Code Pink.”

  “Did you say Code Yellow?”

  “You know I didn’t. Code Pink, Mad.”

  There was a beat of silence, then nothing but the beautiful sound of her heels clicking as she walked away.

  The woman in his arms slid out from between him and the door. “Your girlfriend?”

  “No.”

  She nodded. “Code Pink?”

  Maddie was Sky High’s concierge, as well as assistant to Sky High’s three partners—Brody, Noah, and himself. Maddie was the best of the best, even if she was a pain in his ass. Code Pink was their private code for Back The Hell Off. As opposed to Code Yellow, which was SAVE ME. “It’s a work thing. Watch out—”

  But she’d already backed right into the shelving unit. A stack of towels rained down on top of her, and with a little squeak, she ducked. “I’m sorry,” she gasped, trying to catch everything as it fell and put it back.

  He watched for a moment because there was something so watchable about her. Her necklace had turned itself around and was hanging down her back. A tiny, delicate gold chain dangled between her shoulder blades, the pendant a capital D. As more things rained down on her, she swore, having absolutely no luck catching anything. Stepping close to her, he reached above, helping to stanch the flow.

  She shoved the strap of her dress back up but it immediately slipped again, still giving off that whole slightly messy but adorably silly thing she had going, which he’d never imagined would be attractive.

  But it was. And not just because her sweet ass was snugged up to his crotch.

  Okay, partly because of that.

  He touched her necklace, let his finger slip beneath the pendant, and dropped it over her shoulder so that it slid back between her breasts where it belonged.

  At the touch, she went very still, and then, in that tight, small space, turned to face him, slowly lifting her face.

  The only sound in the ro