opfsecure.blogg.se

Mrs. Saint Nick by Caroline Mickelson
Mrs. Saint Nick by Caroline Mickelson










When she tried to free it she only got further ensnared in the cashmere trap. Holly scrambled off the couch but her right foot caught in the blanket. “How else do you think we got so much accomplished?” “You were off goofing around somewhere while I read-” she broke off and looked around for the stack of file folders. “You weren’t even here.” She looked up at him. But she’d been alone, that much she remembered perfectly. What had they been working on? She’d been reading files and trying to make sense of some cryptic notes she didn’t understand. “Don’t you remember?”ĭid she? Sleigh loading operations? What in the frozen tundra was he talking about? She closed her eyes and pressed her fingers to her forehead while she struggled to remember what they’d been doing last night. “We were working on updates to the sleigh loading operations protocol and I guess we both drifted off.” Nick ran his fingers through his hair and then stretched. How had Nick gotten in last night without her hearing him? “What happened last night?” She glanced at the door and then at the chair beside the table. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Miss Jamison.” What on earth had happened last night? Had they…she glanced down to see just what she was wearing. “How hungry am I?” she repeated, her shock prevented her from coming up with any words of her own. “Apparently you need coffee to function.” He flipped back the blanket they’d been under and, with a grace she begrudgingly admired, got to his feet. She needed to move away but the only route of escape would entail climbing over Nick and there was no way she was going there. “And you can quit staring at me like I’m a three headed reindeer. Oh, heavens above, he’d been the perfect pillow she’d just snuggled into. With his right arm folded behind his head, he was stretched out next to her as if their waking up together was the most natural way to start his day.

Mrs. Saint Nick by Caroline Mickelson

“Oh, my God, what are you doing here?” She stared down at Nick. She tried to move away but the back of the couch was unyielding. Shock didn’t begin to describe the zap of energy that shot through her. Holly’s eyes flew open and she found herself staring straight at a men’s white dress shirt, complete with a live, breathing man in it. A voice that was only inches away, so close it might have come from someone sharing her pillow. “I don’t want to get up either,” a warm, gravelly voice whispered.

Mrs. Saint Nick by Caroline Mickelson Mrs. Saint Nick by Caroline Mickelson

Instead she burrowed deeper, grateful for the heavenly pillow that cradled her head.

Mrs. Saint Nick by Caroline Mickelson

She refused to acknowledge that morning was even a remote possibility. Holly pulled the cashmere blanket up around her chin and snuggled deeper into the most comfortable bed human hands ever created.












Mrs. Saint Nick by Caroline Mickelson