Under the Boss's Mistletoe
wasn’t attractive; he was gorgeous.
    Well. Who would have thought it?
    His fiancée was a lucky woman.
    Keeping her smile firmly in place, she took a step towardshim with her hand outstretched. ‘Hel…’ she began, but that was as far as she got. Her ankle tipped over on the unfamiliar heels and the next moment her shoes seemed to be hopelessly entangled. Before Cassie knew what was happening, she found herself pitching forward with a squawk of dismay as her briefcase thudded to the floor.
    She would have landed flat on her face next to it if a pair of hard hands hadn’t grabbed her arms. Cassie had no idea how Jake got there in time to catch her, but she ended up sprawling against him and clutching instinctively at his jacket.
    Just as she had clutched at his leather jacket ten years ago when he had kissed her.
    ‘Hello, Cassie,’ he said.
    Mortified, Cassie struggled to find her balance. Why, why, why, was she so clumsy?
    Her face was squashed against his jacket, and with an odd, detached part of her brain she registered that he smelt wonderful, of expensive shirts, clean, male skin and a faint tang of aftershave. His body was rock-solid, and for a treacherous moment Cassie was tempted to cling to the blissful illusion of steadiness and safety.
    Possibly not a good move, if she wanted to impress him with her new-found professionalism. Or very tactful, given that he was a newly engaged man.
    With an effort, Cassie pulled herself away from the comfort of that broad chest. ‘I’m so sorry,’ she managed.
    Jake set her on her feet but kept hold of her upper arms until he was sure she was steady. ‘Are you all right?’
    His hands felt hard and strong through the sleeves of her jacket, and he held her just as he had done that other day.
    Cassie couldn’t help staring. It was strangely dislocating to look into his face and see a cool stranger overlaying the angry young man he had been then. This time the resentment in the dark-blue eyes had been replaced by a gleam of amusement, although it was impossible to tell whether he was remembering that kiss, too, or was simply entertained by her unconventional arrival.
    Cassie’s cheeks burned. ‘I’m fine,’ she said, stepping out of his grip.
    Jake bent to pick up the briefcase and handed it back to her. ‘Shall we sit down?’ he suggested, gesturing towards two luxurious leather sofas. ‘Given those shoes, it might be safer!’
    Willing her flaming colour to fade, Cassie subsided onto a sofa and swallowed as she set the briefcase on the low table. ‘I don’t normally throw myself into the client’s arms when we first meet,’ she said with a nervous smile.
    The corner of Jake’s mouth quivered in an unnervingly attractive way. ‘It’s always good to make a spectacular entrance. But then, you always did have a certain style,’ he added.
    Cassie rather suspected that last comment was sarcastic; she had always been hopelessly clumsy.
    She sighed. ‘I was rather hoping you wouldn’t recognise me,’ she confessed.
    Jake looked across the table at her. She was perched on the edge of the sofa, looking hot and ruffled, her round, sweet face flushed, and brown eyes bright with mortification.
    The wild curls he remembered had been cut into a more manageable style, and she had slimmed down and smartened up. Remarkably so, in fact. When he had looked up to see her in the doorway, she had seemed a vividly pretty stranger, and he had felt a strange sensation in the pit of his stomach.
    Then she had tripped and pitched into his arms, and Jake wasn’t sure if he was disappointed or relieved to find out that she hadn’t changed that much after all.
    The feel of her was startlingly familiar, which was odd, given that he had only held her twice before. But he had caught her, and all at once it was as if he had been back at that last Allantide Ball. He could still see Cassie as she sashayed up to him in that tight red dress, teetering on heels almost as ridiculous as the

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