A Mistletoe Kiss with the Boss
“No,” Kristen said, rolling out from under the covers. “Tossing hay keeps me fit.”
“Tossing hay?”
“For the cows. Not just for them to eat, but for their beds. I live on a farm.”
Stella’s eyes widened. “No kidding. A real farm?”
“You have farms in the US.”
“Yeah, I know. I’ve just never seen one. Or known anyone who lived on one,” Stella said. She pointed to the bathroom. “Get your shower and be out in ten minutes. Hairdresser is already here. Makeup artist is on her way up.”
Kristen walked into the bathroom and gasped. Everything was marble or glass. Eight showerheads peeked out at her. Fluffy white towels were arranged in baskets like bouquets. The soap smelled like heaven.
Too bad she only had ten minutes to enjoy it all. She couldn’t even try the jets. Too much temptation to linger. She simply washed in the sweet-smelling soap and cleaned her hair with shampoo the scent of oranges.
After wrapping her wet head in a towel, she slid into the fluffy white robe on the back of the bathroom door. She stepped out into the sitting room of her suite to find at least ten people all talking at the same time.
When they saw her, everybody shut up for about three seconds, then started talking again.
“Who told her to wash her hair?”
“I like her eyes. I think we can go bold with them.”
“I want to see the dress before I even think about makeup.”
“We should do an updo.”
“Does she have jewelry we should consider?”
Like an orchestra conductor, Stella raised her hands, then made a chopping motion. “Everybody shut up.” She turned to Kristen. “You...in the chair.”
Kristen walked over to the salon chair that had materialized in her sitting room while she’d been sleeping, sat down and turned herself over to the professionals.
Almost two hours later, Stella helped her slip into the black gown. She fastened her sparkly white gold necklace, then gave her the earrings. When they were in place, she handed Kristen a box.
“This is a gift. From Dean. He doesn’t like to make a big deal out of these things, but he appreciates your help tonight.”
As she took the box, a weird feeling enveloped her. It was one thing to keep the gown she’d need to help pull off his charade. Quite another to take a gift.
“I can’t accept this.”
Stella sighed. “You have to. He wants you to wear it tonight.” She held up her hand. “Wait.” Racing to a table by the door, she picked up another box. “These first.”
She opened the box to find long black dinner gloves. “Gloves?”
“It’s white tie,” Stella explained, helping Kristen pull on the elbow-length gloves. “Way more formal than black tie. When I realized we’d forgotten them, I called the boutique and had these delivered. Open the gift.”
Silky black gloves fumbling with the lid, she opened the second box and gasped. Her gaze jumped to Stella. “I don’t care if he wants me to wear this, I can’t accept it.”
Without missing a beat, Stella took the diamond bracelet out of the box and slid it over Kristen’s left hand and onto the glove. Sparkling against the black silk, the bracelet nearly blinded Kristen.
Stella laughed. “See why he bought this for you? When he saw the dress and gloves this afternoon—”
“He was here?”
“He was busy calling brokers, but I texted pictures.” She shook her head. “He approves everything. Every detail. Anyway, when he saw the gloves and realized all your other jewelry was just white gold, he insisted on the diamonds.”
“I can’t keep them.”
Stella laughed. “It isn’t a request. Or an option. The bracelet is a necessary part of your outfit that becomes a thank-you gift. It’s not my place to change that. If you don’t want the bracelet, fight it out with Dean.”
“I will.”
Dean arrived in her hotel room at eight and Stella stepped back as if she were presenting Kristen as a completed project, not a person.
He took in the fancy upswept hairdo the stylist had given her, and then his gaze skimmed from the top of her dress to the tips of her toes. If another man had looked at her like that, she probably would have shivered, but his gaze was cool, efficient.