Three Christmas Wishes. Sheila Roberts

it suddenly hot in here? She freed her hand and opened the jacket. His eyes slid to her cleavage. Oh, Jo, you’re so smart.

      “I’m in this business because I love houses and I love fixing them up,” he said, returning his gaze to her face. He looked so sincere.

      And maybe he was, but darn it all, why did he have to be sincere about her house?

      “I’ve got an idea.”

      “What?” she asked.

      “Why don’t I stop by one night this week? You can share your vision for the place.”

      And show off Close Encounter Outfit Number Two. Perhaps she could convince him to sell to her on some kind of payment plan. Maybe he’d let her rent with an option to buy. Unlike Mrs. Bing, he could probably afford to carry her.

      Financially. Not off to bed. Get your mind out of the sheets! “Okay,” she said.

      Don’t leave it at that, scolded Marvella. What are you thinking?

      That Ben Fordham has great eyes. Those brown eyes reminded her of chocolate. She loved chocolate.

      Never mind his eyes! Promise him food. You can poison him.

      Poisoning was not acceptable. But food... “I can make dinner,” she suggested. Maybe he had a girlfriend. Maybe he’d think Noel was desperate for a man. Her cheeks began to heat up. “Unless you have, um, unless...”

      “Dinner sounds good. How about Friday night?”

      Friday night was a date night. He obviously didn’t have a girlfriend.

      Excellent, said Marvella. Then you can sleep with him. That’ll sweeten him up.

      I’m not pimping myself out for a house, she told both herself and Marvella.

      A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do. Marvella said that a lot in her books, but never in this context.

      Noel told her to butt out and stick to helping children in trouble. Then she smiled at Ben. “Thank you. You’re being very considerate.” Even though you did buy my house out from under me.

      “I’m not out to make enemies,” he said. “In fact, I’ve never found myself in a situation like this before.”

      He was looking at her so earnestly. He sure was...masculine. The sizzle on her face slipped way south. It was time to get out of this very hot office.

      Noel stood. “Well, thanks. I guess you know where I live,” she added.

      He stood, too. Oh, he was...big. He smiled and all the hot spots got hotter. “I think I can find you.”

      She swallowed and nodded. “I’d better go,” she said, backing up. She backed into the door and her face got even hotter. “Um, I’ll see you Friday, then.”

      “What time?”

      Anytime you want. “Six?”

      “I’ll be there.”

      She nodded again and then opened the door and hurried out.

      Janelle, the secretary/guard, glared at her as she did her jacket back up. “Have a nice day.” Translation: I’d like to poke out your eye with a candy cane.

      “Thank you,” Noel said with dignity and left.

      Okay, mission accomplished. Sort of.

      Sleep with him, urged Marvella. It will help the cause.

      She was certainly not going to lower herself to that. But if she could convince him to sell the house to her, if he was willing to be creative and make a deal, maybe they could both end up with a happy New Year.

      If not, poison him, Marvella advised.

      Right.