Page 38 of Naughty or Nice


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“Maybe not, but it’s still magical. I don’t need a big fancy house in Aspen to be happy when I have you and Fluff and my best friends. I wish my sisters were here, but we’ll see them in a day or two when the weather clears.”

I think about the women I knew before her, including the one I was married to. None of them would’ve found magic at the Castaway Inn in Saint George, Utah, especially when they’d been promised a movie star’s home in Aspen. That Natalie can find the magic no matter where we are or what we’re doing is one of many things that make her the love of my life.

“In case I’ve failed to mention it today, I love you, Mrs. Godfrey.”

“Love you, too, Mr. Godfrey.” She looks back at me over her shoulder. “Can we come back here for Christmas every year?”

Smiling, I flatten my hand over the baby bump. “If that’s what you want, then that’s what we’ll do.”

“How fun would it be to come back here year after year and recreate this first Christmas together?”

“It would be fun.”

“How long do you think it’ll take before we need all the rooms?”

We’ve rented ten of the Castaway’s seventeen rooms. “A year? Maybe two?”

She laughs. “If it takes that long.”

Last Christmas, I thought the biggest thing that might happen in the new year was my first acting Oscar. Funny how that turned out to be the least of what happened. With my arms around my wife and my hands curled around our unborn child, I’m content in a way I’ve never been before—and it’s all because of Natalie. She’s the key to everything.

Best. Christmas. Ever.A HOLIDAY LIFT - CORINNE MICHAELS“Shit!” I say as I fall to the ground half inside the elevator and half in the hall. Humiliated, I force my eyes open, only to see a pair of caramel-colored dress shoes and my dignity right there before me. Seriously, this is the worst day of my life.

This morning I found out the pitch I was going to give after the new year was moved to tomorrow, and then I found out it wasn’t Yamina who I was pitching against. Nope, it was the only person in the office who could actually kick my ass and get the account.

But that is nothing to me as I lie there in a stupid skirt for all the office to see.

“Here, let me help you.” A deep voice I’d know anywhere fills my ears a second before an offered hand drops into my line of sight.

Please, God, let this not be happening.

I lift my eyes and find that not only is it happening but also it’s happening in front of the hottest man in the building, my new enemy, the man I slept with a week ago. He’s also the man I have deep feelings for but pretend not to.

“I’m fine,” I say, trying to stop the heat from flooding my cheeks.

The doors close on my body, and I attempt to maneuver, but I can’t get up without showing all my glory.

“Holly,” Dean Pritchard says. “Give me your hand.”

Not wanting to make this any worse than it already is, I put my hand in his. “Thanks.” He helps me up, smirking at me, but at least he isn’t laughing.

“Are you okay?”

Like he cares. If he did, he would’ve called. He wouldn’t have ignored me since our drunken night of unbelievable sex. I wouldn’t have been invisible. “I’m fine. Other than being embarrassed.”

I smooth my skirt down, knowing that it lifted enough for everyone to see my bare ass.

“It looked like it hurt.”

Only my pride. “Press two please,” I say, desperate to get off the topic.

The last thing I want is to stand here and talk about the awkward fall.

“I never pegged you for going commando.”

“Not like you haven’t seen it already,” I say, adding another reason why I should get a do-over for today.

I had underwear on when I left the house, but they ripped when I went to the bathroom because I’m the biggest klutz ever and put my high heel through the crotch. That was ten minutes ago. Oh, how I wish I had a time machine.

“True.” He grins. “Still an interesting new tidbit about you.”

Yeah, I’m just full of them.

“Whatever, did you get the proposal done? I know it was last minute for you.” I’m still smoothing my clothes out as the elevator door shuts with me safely inside this time.

“I did. You?”

Nope.

“Yes.”

“Good. May the best man win.”

“Oh, I plan to.”

Dean laughs. “We’ll see. Maybe the winner buys the other some scotch?”

My eyes narrow. That was what we’d been drinking the night we got drunk and screwed against his office door, floor, and desk. “That will never happen again.”

Well, it will in my dreams because it has six times since then, but there’s no way I’ll admit that. That night was a huge mistake, but it was the best sex of my life.

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