The champagne was working on the both of us, calming our nerves and breaking down barriers where they normally would have stood.
With a small sigh, I leaned back in my chair, bringing the glass once to my lips before saying, “It’s a pretty classic tale of holiday abandonment. My dad left on Christmas when I was four. My mother never celebrated after that. The foods, trees, carols...everything set her off.” I smiled wryly. “I guess it sets me off now too.”
Of course, there was a lot more to the story. There was the Christmas when I found my mother choking to death on a mouthful of pills. The Christmas when I spent the night in the ER and the next day making funeral arrangements.
But no need to go into all of that now. It was far too heavy for a fake work dinner.
Before Tom had a chance to say anything, a pair of waiters came up and brought us two platters of pasta and bread. After running my legs into the ground, carbs were just what I craved.
We dug in, the conversation momentarily forgotten, as we replenished ourselves. When we finally came up for air, Tom laughed and poured us still another glass of champagne. “I don’t usually go for pasta, but you see, I had a particularly grueling day on the treadmill.”
I laughed and took a large mouthful of bread. “I’m right there with you.”
He leaned back in his chair and studied me with a thoughtful expression. “So you really don’t like Christmas. You’re not just one of those people who says they don’t to get extra attention and gifts?”
I chuckled and shook my head. “No, but you have to respect those people for ambition.”
He was quiet for a while, thinking, and I finally cocked my head with a grin.
“Let me guess, you just love Christmas. You love everything about it.”
He threw back his head and laughed, the sound echoed off the marble heaters before losing itself in the chilly night. “I do love Christmas. I love everything about it. Furthermore, I feel the profound need to change your mind about the whole thing.”
I smiled and took another sip of bubbly. “Oh, so you’re one of those. The ‘protectors.’ You’re going to save me from myself.”
“Absolutely,” he said seriously. “I’m just going to need...a little more champagne.”
We laughed again and settled back for a rather delightful meal. Not once did we talk about work. Not once did we mention the merger. We only talked about each other, asking random questions and probing little details that most people would never have thought to ask.
It wasn’t long before dessert came and the two of us laughed like a pair of old friends. Well, maybe a little friendlier than friends...
“Why did you ask me here?”
The candles had burned down low, and we were speaking more plainly now. He looked up at me in surprise, considering for a moment, before he shook his head.
“I don’t know,” he said honestly.
He didn’t know. Well, that made two of us.
With a little smile, I nodded and got up to leave.
“Jenna,” he hurried after me, “I’m sorry, I don’t—”
“I’m not mad,” I said just as sincerely as him. “It’s just getting late, and I have to present this merger first thing tomorrow.”
His face fell, and before I knew what I was doing, I squeezed his hand in mine.
“Thank you, for dinner.” I smiled shyly. “I had a lot of fun.”
“Thank you for coming,” he said softly.
I nodded quickly and turned to leave, heading out of the warm circle of candlelight.
Then all at once, I was in his arms.
He smashed me up against the brick wall, hiking up my dress and hitching my leg around his waist as his lips found mine. His mouth explored mine, his tongue dancing around mine in perfect harmony. He devoured me with a kiss so deep...that I swear I was seeing fireworks. I fought to stay in control but I couldn’t help but let myself go.
I was consumed by every thrust of his tongue. Tasting him like this felt so natural, so damn right. I tangled my hands through his carefully combed hair and wrapped my other leg around him. Heat shot through me as his lips traveled down my neck.
I was so caught up that I couldn’t remember all the reasons why this was so wrong. I hadn’t been kissed with such intensity or passion in a long time. And as much as I was enjoying this amazing kiss, I snapped back into reality. I was playing with fire. I was playing with my career. I could be fired for this kind of behavior. What was I thinking?