A Little Christmas Jingle by Michele Dunaway Page A

door. Surely she had something. Something she’d bought, intending to wear and shoved aside for some reason. She thumbed through, pushing hangers aside.
    And there it was. She’d found the gown at the Women’s Closet Exchange, a high-end resale shop. The dark blue silk fabric shimmered as she pulled it out. Why hadn’t she thought of this dress first? She turned the hanger around. Oh yeah. Because the dress had no back. None whatsoever. The last time she’d thought about wearing it, she’d chickened out.
    The fabric caught the light like moonlit water, and she decided to try it on. Kat tossed the hanger on the dresser and stepped into the dress. She pulled it up and over, the silk caressing her skin. She slid her arms through the slots, attached the back clasp that closed the two-inch collar. The full, floor-length skirt swished around her legs as she strode back into her bedroom and stood in front of the full-length mirror.
    The back of the sleeveless dress hit the small curve of her back. The dress showcased a diamond-shape exposure of pale skin from under the strap collar to right above the V of her breasts. She adjusted the built-in bra cups and looked at her reflection.
    The designer piece had been worn once according to the salesperson, and Kat had picked up the thousand-dollar gown for a mere fraction of that. She slid into the four-inch silver heels she brought out only for special occasions. Did she dare wear this? She felt utterly glamorous, but then again, she was revealing suggestive amounts of skin. She twirled, loving how the soft fabric swished.
    Then froze as she heard the doorbell. Surely Jack couldn’t be here already.
    She cursed as she read the clock. Where had the time gone? She’d sworn she’d had at least another hour, not fifteen minutes. Blue fabric swishing, she walked down the front steps and let him in. “Hi.”
    â€œHi,” Jack said, his gaze sweeping over her. “Ready?”
    â€œAlmost,” Kat replied, making her way back up the stairs. Jack gave a low whistle. “What?”
    â€œThat is one hell of a dress.”
    â€œThank you,” she said, a flush covering her cheeks. “I …”
    â€œIf you’re trying to make a statement, you succeeded. I’ll be the envy of every guy there.”
    She reached the living room and faced him. “It’s too much. I can put the red one on and—”
    â€œDon’t you dare,” Jack replied. His blue eyes had darkened to cobalt. “You’re beautiful.”
    â€œThank you,” she replied again, and fled to her bedroom where she attached a sterling silver cuff bracelet, the only jewelry she’d wear aside from the matching dangle earrings.
    She gave one last look-see in the mirror, put on a shimmery silver stole, and returned to the living room. Jack held out her black wool dress coat. “Shall we?”
    â€œDefinitely,” Kat replied, stomach butterflies already abuzz. Beneath his coat he wore a black tux, and Kat caught herself before her mouth gaped open. She couldn’t remember the last time she was this affected by a man, and that could spell trouble, for Kat had the sudden urge to yank him into her bedroom and let him slake the desire flowing through her, charity be darned. He held open the door to the stairs, and some cooler air blew in, clearing her brain.
    â€œLead the way,” he told her, grin wicked. “It’s going to be an interesting night.”
    #
    And even “interesting” was too tame a word, Jack thought as he and Kat checked their overcoats outside the Ritz Carlton ballroom. Her dress was driving him to distraction. When he placed his hand on the small of her back, all five fingers found silken bare flesh. The gown was red carpet worthy, and worse, the way she wore it made parts of his body go into hyperdrive. When he’d followed her up her flat’s front stairs, he’d mentally recited