This is one of those stories where you'll find yourself smiling at the end with a heavy dose of swooning...

- Gabrielle Sally, The Romance Reviews

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Adrian was stunned at the crush of bodies inside the room—there didn’t seem to be enough space left to breathe. The logistics committee didn’t appear to have done their job very well. Having gone to more than his share of company events, he realized that Shelli’s company must have invited their suppliers and valued customers as well as their staff, and the numbers had gone out of control. He was just wondering, if maybe, they should go home and watch National Geographic instead, when several people right in front of them shrieked with laughter and pointed above their heads. "Kiss, kiss, kiss!"

He looked straight up and, lo and behold. Mistletoe. Bunches of it decorating the whole doorframe, an unexpected trap for the unwary. He stared at them, nonplussed and wondered why there should be mistletoe when it wasn’t even Christmas. Someone’s idea of a bad joke, or an innovative ice breaker to get everyone in the party mood.

Several people right in front of them shrieked with laughter and pointed above their heads. "Kiss, kiss, kiss!"

"Oh," Shelli glanced first at her colleagues, then up at the mistletoe, dismayed, then spread her hands helplessly, "but they’re my—"

The distress on her face registered in his mind simultaneously with one other thing. If she admitted they were only friends, then all was lost. He and Ethan might as well have not come. He spun her toward him before she could complete her sentence. "Give in gracefully, Shell," he said, laughing, playacting for the benefit of their audience. "It’s tradition." He slid his hands from her shoulders up to cup her head and brought her inexorably closer. Her head, her entire body strained away from him and her eyes communicated mute panic. "You stupid fool," he hissed near her mouth, willing her to relax, to trust him. "Don’t give the game away, not when we’ve come this far. And it’s just a kiss. We might have to play it up to make it look real…"

His lips brushed hers, once, twice. He had meant for it to end there but her lips were so soft, so sweet, so intoxicating, he just had to taste them again. He was drawn in and unable to pull himself away. He forgot that they had an audience. He forgot that he’d suggested for them to work at making the kiss look real, because it was suddenly all too real…

He pressed his mouth more fully against hers and nibbled and licked and begged for a taste of the rich flavors he was sure she was keeping from him in her mouth.

He wanted in.