A Billionaire for Christmas (All I want for Christmas is... 3)

“No? That’s what rich people always say.” Aileen huffed to blow the long grayish-white curls of her Santa wig out of her face. “Just once, I’d like to get a big old gob of money and try that theory out for myself.”

Not that she was particularly materialistic. She wasn’t. Growing up poor on a military base without a mom to guide her had pretty much ensured that Aileen was about as un-girly as women came. She liked things simple and straightforward, without a lot of fuss or muss. Good old Heath here, with his persnickety clothes and disapproving frown, seemed like the epitome of fussy. Which was too bad, really, since he was about the handsomest thing she’d seen in a good long time. A coil of lust unfurled in her belly before Aileen tamped it down.

Now wasn’t the time or place and Heath Goldwin certainly wasn’t the right guy. Hell, Murphy would shit and die if he thought she was sleeping with one of his friends. Which under other circumstances would’ve given Aileen an evil thrill, but now she had bigger issues to deal with—namely one crooked old senator.

There was a slight break in the line of people waiting to meet Milford Lawrence and Aileen seized her opportunity. Nudging her way into the front of the line, she held up a small digital recorder and flashed her most brilliant fake smile up at Senator Lawrence. He wasn’t exactly what one would imagine a criminal mastermind to look like—mid-sixties, a bit portly, with a kindly-looking smile and hunched shoulders that gave him a perpetually stooped posture. Everything about the guy screamed non-threatening. But Aileen had learned a long time ago that looks could be deceiving. And if her hunches were right and this guy was involved in the biggest case of fraud involving a clean energy company in US history, well then, she intended to nail his ass to the wall like a bug under glass.

Aileen swallowed hard and, in true intrepid reporter style, went straight for his jugular.

“Senator Lawrence,” she said, shoving the recorder in his face. “Aileen Coen from the New York Daily Globe. I’m writing an article about suspected fraud within the country’s energy providers. Want to give me a quote on your committee’s recent approval for a huge, multi-billion-dollar government grant to clean-energy company EnKor for its research into making geothermal energy the ‘New Oil’?”

For a moment, the senator just stared at her, as if taken aback by the question. The vote on the congressional floor to approve the funds had only taken place two days prior and had mysteriously gotten very little coverage in the press. The only way Aileen had gotten wind of it was through one of her trusted contacts in Washington, DC.

Senator Lawrence seemed to recover quickly, however, though his smile was a bit less kindly than before. He gave her a cool stare from behind his wire-rimmed glasses. “No comment.”

Then Lawrence flicked his wrist, signaling to his bodyguards again. The same two beefy guards emerged from behind the circle of Secret Service agents and headed for Aileen.

Shit. She took a step back and ran right into Heath, his body a wall of heat and muscle.

“Going somewhere?” he asked, his gaze locked on the henchman. “We need a distraction, something to throw them off.”

“Well, I don’t know what that’s gonna be. The guy’s staring right at us and—”

With a muttered curse, Heath wrapped his arm around her waist and spun Aileen to face him. His eyes sparkled with annoyance as he lowered his head to hers. “The fucking sacrifices I make for my friends.”

With that, his lips closed over hers and the world around them seemed to dissolve.

Surprised, Aileen gasped and Heath took advantage, his soft tongue sliding into her mouth as his arms tightened his hold around her. He tasted of mint and coffee and pure male desire and she was intoxicated. Lost. Knocked clean off her feet. Aileen moaned and slid her hands around his neck, into those blond curls of his, discovering they did indeed feel as soft as they looked.

Gone was her common sense, gone was any rational idea that this was all for show, that this was only to keep the guards from hauling her ass off to some warehouse somewhere and chaining her to a wall until the senator’s deal went through without a hitch. Already, a small crowd had formed around them, clucking and cooing and gushing about the magic of the season.

Yep, it was certainly magic all right, if the way her senses zeroed in was any indication.

All that existed now was her and Heath and this fantastic kiss they shared.

When Heath pulled away slightly, all Aileen could do was blink up at him, her breath panting and her heart thumping against her chest like a frantic bird in a cage. He glanced behind her at the guards then smiled, his blue-gray eyes warm with humor and a hint of affection. If she didn’t know better, she’d almost believe he’d wanted to kiss her, that he’d enjoyed it as much as she had.

“Darling,” Heath said, raising his hand to trace the backs of his fingers down her heated cheek. “I’ve been looking for you all over. We’ve got reservations at LeCirque in half an hour. Best get going.”

Before Aileen could react, he kissed her again fast then took her hand and tugged her away from the park. Good thing Heath had a firm hold on her too, because given her bulky costume and the tingle in her toes, she wasn’t sure she could’ve supported herself without tripping and falling. Her mind was still preoccupied with his taste, his scent, his… everything.

At the curb, Heath hailed a taxi then bundled Aileen into the backseat before following her inside. It wasn’t until they’d safely pulled away and merged into traffic that she hazarded a look back and spotted the senator’s two guards still standing at the curb where they’d been moments earlier. Exhaling slowly, she slumped back against the cab seat and closed her eyes. “Thanks for getting me out of that. I owe you one.”

“You owe me way more than that.” Heath shook his head. “I’ve spent the last three weeks tracking you down and doing some investigating on my own on your senator back there. He’s not a guy to be messed with under any circumstances. I think it’s time you came home and let Murphy and Daveed and I help you.”

Her lips still tingled from his kiss and her senses were still rioting. Adrenaline fizzed through her bloodstream like soda pop. Not exactly the best time to make life decisions, but Aileen had never been one to take well to orders. Especially from people who had no business giving them. And yeah, maybe the guy was used to being obeyed in the military, but this wasn’t the Middle East and she sure as hell wasn’t one of his lackeys.

Aileen straightened in her seat and pulled off her ridiculous wig. At least the senator and his guards hadn’t seen her real hair—a shoulder leng

th black bob. “And I think you should mind your own damned business, Mr. Heath Goldwin. I didn’t ask you to look for me. In fact, I did everything I could to not be found until I was ready. Tell Murphy I’m fine and forget about this, okay? I’m a big girl and I can take care of myself. Been doing it a long time. Had to in my family.”

Heath crossed his arms and gave her some serious side eye. “No.”

“No?”

“No. Thanks, but no thanks. Now that I’ve found you, I’ll be sticking around until I can bring you safely back home. I owe Murphy at least that much.”

Who the fuck did he think he was? Aileen’s nose twitched with indignation. She was a grown adult woman, a noted journalist on the beat of a story that could make her career. Hell, this expose might even win her a damned Pulitzer. What she wasn’t was some toy for Heath to play with and she sure as hell wasn’t his property to boss around as he wished. His boss routine might work on her brother, since they’d served together, but it sure as fuck wouldn’t work with her. While Aileen glowered at him, his arrogance seemed to grow to new heights, given his self-satisfied expression.