A Special Investigations Agency story.
Kat Langdon dreads Christmas. For all the parties and merriment, she feels more alone now than any other time of year. What she'd really love is super-delicious SIA agent Boone Granger in her stocking, or stockings, come Christmas morning. The man has sent her into thermonuclear meltdown for the last six months every time he swaggered by. His nickname is "long, tall Texan", and with the heated way he looks at her, she's wondered what "long" really refers to. If the reality is half as good as her fantasies, then his six-foot four-inch height isn't the only thing that's "long".
But when Boone saunters into Kat's office and says he needs help transforming into Santa for an undercover job, she thinks all her Christmases may have come at once. It's goodbye fantasies, hello "real thing" and boy, can this Santa ring her bells!
Boone has more than one reason for asking for Kat's help. The fact that he needs her hands and lips on him like he needs air to breathe is only one part of the problem. His powers of persuasion are about to be put to the ultimate test.
There are no customer reviews available at this time. Would you like to write a review?
Ellora's Cave Publishing, Incorporated
November 13, 2009
Number of Print Pages*
Adobe DRM EPUB
* Number of eBook pages may differ. Click here for more information.
Excerpt from Special Agent Santa by Denise A. Agnew
For six long months since he'd started work at the SIA, he'd waltzed into this office and made statements this side of suggestive. No matter what he said, she could never think of anything equally clever to say. Today a yearning built within her that made her want to connect with him on a deeper level, a respite against one more Christmas Eve spent alone.
Before she could respond to his flirtatious statement, he winked. His gaze, a disturbing cloudless sky she could fall into easily, turned warm and appreciative. "You look pretty in that sweat suit. What is it? Velvet?"
Bemused by the fact he cared, she shook her head and looked down at the plush emerald green material. "Velour."
"Looks soft." His voice lowered, husky and sensual, his gaze holding hers. His eyes took in her sweat suit again, fixating on her bust area. "But those goin'-to-Sunday-meetin' pearls don't do you justice."
She flushed and tugged self-consciously at the pearl necklace. "These are my mother's pearls."
"Mmm. Well, they're pretty, but you need something less conservative."
Damn, would she ever get used to his outrageous comments? She clasped her hands in her lap. "Boone, it's none of your business what I choose to wear."
"True. Don't tell anyone I said that about the pearls, though. If you do, the guys will all think I'm gay as hell."
"I thought you didn't care what other people thought."
"I don't." He shrugged those big shoulders again. "Except maybe for you. I care what you think." He stood and with one eyebrow cocked in question, he touched the doorknob. "Mind if we talk in private?"
"No, I don't mind."
He clicked the door shut then locked it. Warmth stole into her belly and she inhaled deeply to calm her racing heart.
"Why did you lock it?" she asked, a weird sense of apprehension mixed with excitement.
"Because I want privacy for what I'm about to ask."
"Okay." This sounded serious, and the teasing light that shimmered in his eyes disappeared.
He returned to the chair. "I need your help."
He sat in typical male abandon with his legs spread out. He crossed his arms. Even under a long-sleeved shirt, she could see his muscles bunching and rippling. An over the top reaction to Boone drove her nuts because she couldn't stop it now she was alone with him. His flattery and knee buckling, I-want-to-eat-you look made strident arousal tug low in her stomach. Moisture trickled between her legs and she clenched her muscles in reaction. Oh, God. She needed to stop this reaction before she did something or said something incriminating.
"What were you saying?" she asked.
"The costume I bought for this next assignment is a pain in the ass. Requires wrestling to get the damn thing buckled, strapped, you name it. Anyway, I was hoping you could help me put it on."
"Oh...uh, well." Come on, get with the program. Of course you want to help him. Say it. For once say what you really want to say to him and stop dancing around it. "I don't know. Why me?"
He leaned forward. His salacious grin and the hot attention in his eyes almost sucked the breath from her. "There's something else I need, Kat."
"A date for the party. It's undercover, but only for a few hours. And there's no danger, I promise."
Surprise almost choked off her breath. "What?"
His eyebrows knitted together. "I realize it's last minute, but there aren't any other agents available to help me."
She narrowed her eyes, picked up a pencil and started to twirl it nervously in her fingers. "That's hard to believe."
Jumpy, she stood and walked to the window, watching the snow blanket the pine forest around them.
He rose from his chair and ambled toward her until he stood a foot away. She inhaled his tangy, musky scent again and her stomach did that funny swirling dance.
He leaned close to her. "There isn't anyone else. But even if there was, I'd still ask you."
A tiny thrill tickled her lower belly. "Why?"
He edged nearer, and she took a step back and found herself up against a wall. He towered over her five-foot-six frame, and a subtle shudder rippled over her skin. Boone always made her feel delicate and feminine. She could be outraged by her response to him, but she didn't feel helpless...just womanly.
He leaned one palm on the wall near her head. Oh, he was way, way too near for comfort. Excessively close for office etiquette. Thrilled and scared, she didn't move.
His voice dropped even lower, a whiskey and velvet sound so husky and sexy she considered melting on the spot. "I just can't take it any more. Tonight I need you. Only you."