Eclipse of the Heart - By Carly Carson Page 0,16

eyes went round with surprise. "I had my a—"

She bit off the word.

"Your aunt?"

She clapped a hand over the gasp that flew out of her mouth. "I wasn't supposed to tell you. Aunt Bridget said I had to prove myself."

He nodded. "It's all right. I do owe your aunt something."

She turned to go. "I'll take those decorations down right away."

Logan watched her drooping shoulders. Damn. Why did he feel so guilty? Was it the memory of his own lavish holidays? Piles and piles of presents under the tree, everything he wanted and more.

But the main memory he had to quash was the overflowing love. The presents had paled in comparison. Even now, as a grown man who could buy anything he desired, he still knew that material things counted for little when measuring a man's happiness. But with children and teens—it was different. They needed to feel like they had at least some of the items that their peers had.

"Rosie!"

She turned back, her expression wary. "Yes?"

"Leave 'em up, then. It's a good cause." He swallowed. "Thank you for thinking of it."

"Yes, sir." This time she bolted.

***

An hour later, Amanda was standing in his doorway. The lick of pleasure he felt didn't please him. Especially when he considered the god-awful outfit she was wearing. No man should be attracted to a woman dressed like that.

She stepped into his office. "Letty in HR told me you have a mandatory Christmas party tonight?" She raised her eyebrows.

"That's right." He leaned back in his chair, allowing himself a brief fantasy about what he could say to her right now if she'd been hired as his mistress.

"I'm not one for Christmas parties," she said. "I think I'll skip it."

"If I have to go, you have to go." He used the strict voice that made his subordinates quake.

"I don't see the logic." She raised her chin a notch, as if she had no intention of recognizing his authority.

"You don't need to. Be there."

A delicate frown wiggled between her eyebrows. "Is that an order?"

Ah. There was an opening if he'd ever heard one. "I like the way you put that. Are you willing to follow my orders?"

She tilted her head to one side. "I'm willing to follow your business orders. Nothing more."

"Fine. Consider the party a job requirement. I'll see you there."

She muttered something under her breath as she turned to go. It sounded a lot like 'Tyrant'.

He repressed a smile.

"We dress up for the Christmas party," he heard himself say. Hell, why had he said that? Of course, anything would be better than what she was currently wearing. But he hadn't worn a costume since he'd been a kid at Halloween.

"So you'll be wearing a red suit and a beard?" She smiled with fake sweetness.

He pointed his pen at her. "If you come as a Christmas tree."

"Something green and pointy and sharp?"

An unexpected smile curved his lips. "A string of lights and two bits of tinsel would do nicely."

"You wish." She stomped out.

Chapter 7

Logan was not amused when Amanda showed up at the party in baggy black pants and a big red Christmas sweater decorated with a tree. The tree, which plastered the sweater from neck to hem, came complete with sparkling lights.

Well, maybe he was a little amused. One of the red lights had fallen onto her right breast. It must have become partially disconnected from its power source because it blinked on and off, drawing attention to exactly the spot he wanted to look at anyway.

He didn't bother to hide his grin as she approached.

"What is making you so happy?" she demanded. "The fact that I followed your suggestion?" She gestured to the sweater.

"It's more the advertisement of your own personal red light district I'm enjoying."

Her eyes widened. "What are you talking about?"

He glanced down.

She followed his gaze. "Oh, for God's sake." She yanked the red light up to where it should be. "Are you two years old?"

"Feeling more twelve, I'd say. An age when a guy is just looking for an excuse to stare at tits."

She shook her head. "Adolescence. Great. Thought I'd left those days behind me."

"Never do if you're dealing with guys." The red light had fallen down once more, and clearly intended to stay there, blinking right over her nipple. He resisted the temptation to fix it.

"By the look of glee on your face," she said, "I'm guessing the light has re-positioned itself once more?" She grabbed a glass of wine off the tray of a passing waiter and took