The Forbidden Christmas Gift
Chapter One
EVAN
Mid-December
Edinburgh, Scotland
Bing Crosby crooned, “It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas,” and he wasn’t wrong. Standing in the atrium of Shaw’s Department Store on Princes Street, it definitely couldn’t get any more Christmassy for me. Strands of gorgeous fairy lights cascaded over the balconies of the gallery floors above us. I stood at Santa’s Grotto, surrounded by fake snow and glitter, while a twinkling forty-foot Christmas tree towered above.
Oh, and I was dressed as one of Santa’s Little Helpers.
With glitter shimmering on my cheeks and my petite figure wrapped in a green velvet elf dress, I looked all of sixteen, I was sure of it.
For months now, I, Evan Munro, had been trying my hardest to make my brother’s best friend—my boss—see me as something other than his best friend’s wee sister who was not only twelve years his junior but the woman he offered a pity job to.
Okay, so it was a little harsh to call it a pity job. The situation demanded more respect than that. After all, when I graduated from university, I’d struggled to get any work, never mind the PA position at Shaw’s. However, it was safe to say I only got the job because my big brother Patrick asked his successful best friend, Reid Shaw, to give me the position on a trial period.
One would think, in this difficult economy, that I’d do anything to keep the job.
For instance, I wouldn’t be mooning over my boss with an infatuation the size of said planetary satellite. But I couldn’t help it.
Until recently, I’d become obsessed with showing Reid that the twelve-year age gap between us didn’t matter because I was a mature, wise-beyond-my-years woman who would rock his freaking world in and out of the bedroom.
After the events of the last few months, I thought I’d made progress.
And I had.
But it still didn’t matter.
Because to Reid, I would always be his best friend’s untouchable little sister.
Weeks ago, wearing this costume in front of Reid would have mortified me. Now I couldn’t care less.
In fact, it was pretty damn funny.
I was sure Reid would never see me as a woman he could take seriously again, but as I smiled at the excited faces of the kids lining up to see Santa Claus, I no longer cared.
Fine.
That wasn’t entirely true.
It hurt like hell.
But I had a little something called self-respect, and if Reid was too afraid to take a chance on me because of Patrick, then he wasn’t the right man for me.
Bing’s voice trailed off and Mariah Carey flooded the department store’s sound system.
Santa, some guy called Gary I only met an hour ago, gestured to me and then to the pile of presents under the Christmas tree. I stifled my chuckle as the bells attached to my pointy-toed elf shoes jingled as I walked. A little girl with laughing brown eyes caught my attention, and we shared a giggle together just before I bent down to collect the next gift from under the spectacular tree.
A whoosh of cool air hit my backside, and I straightened, blushing. The elf costume was not only roasting hot, but it came with a stiff petticoat that prevented the mid-thigh-length skirt from covering my bum when I bent over. Everyone was probably getting an eyeful of my red-and-green-striped bottom.
I was wearing elf stockings.
And my dress was high-necked, the sleeves long, with the collar and wrists trimmed in white fur.
Seriously, I needed to learn how to say the word no.
Feet jingling and bell tinkling on my matching festive green hat, I strolled over to Santa and gave him the present. He winked flirtatiously at me.
Charming.
I tried not to wrinkle my nose at his impropriety.
The young boy at Santa’s side took hold of the brightly wrapped gift, all distress at talking to a strange man disappearing as his mum came to take him away. That was my cue.
I shuffled over to the front of the line and smiled at the waiting father and his little girl. I bent toward her, knowing I was probably giving Santa a clear view of my stockinged arse. Everything about the costume was silly and childish, except for the arse-revealing part. It was supposed to be worn by the sixteen-year-old high school girl who couldn’t show up to be Santa’s elf because she had the flu.
Margaret, the manager of the women’s department, had volunteered me since I was the only one who could fit into the costume. While I should’ve asked for Reid’s permission first, seeing the panic on Kerry, our event coordinator’s face, I knew I had to help her.
We’d advertised Santa’s Grotto everywhere, and parents had purchased tickets for their kids to visit Santa and take home a quality gift for Christmas. Determining Reid would be more annoyed if we let down customers, I reluctantly donned the elf getup.
And now, the object of my affection would probably never look at me the same way again if he caught me in it. Not that it would make a difference.
Pushing through my disappointment, I smiled at Santa’s next customers as the father handed over their ticket.
“What’s your name?” I asked the little girl with the blond pigtails. She was adorable in a red velvet dress and matching shoes.
“Belle,” she murmured shyly.
“It suits you perfectly.” I beamed, drawing a smile from her. “Would you like to meet Santa?”
After glancing up at her dad for reassurance, Belle took my hand, and I led her over to Santa and then stood off to the side. While Gary kept throwing me looks that would definitely put him on the Naughty List, he was great with the kids. He had a joyful, booming voice and pulled off “Ho, ho, ho!” with grand aplomb.
My favorite Christmas song came over the sound system. Wizzard’s “I Wish It Could Be Christmas Everyday.” While the department store employees had to listen to the same Christmas album all day every day in December, I spent most of my time at my desk outside Reid’s top-floor office—where he’d banned all Christmas music.
Scrooge.
God, I wished I didn’t adore the brooding bastard.
Anyhoo, it was nice to listen to Christmas music all morning, and I relaxed, feeling less ridiculous (sort of) and falling more comfortably into my role.
Swaying my hips to the music and singing under my breath, I forgot to feel moody and lovesick for the first time in months.
My toe bells jingled as I skipped toward the Christmas tree to collect Belle’s present. I bent over without thinking, singing to myself.
It was a wonder I didn’t feel his glare singeing my arse.
Because I certainly felt it when I stood up, turned with a flourish of my petticoats, and smiled just as my gaze collided with Reid’s.
He stood to the side of Santa’s Grotto, a fierce glower furrowing his brows, arms crossed over his chest as he glared.
“What the hell are you doing?” he mouthed slowly before pressing his lips into a hard line. His eyes lowered down my body and back up again. Somehow, his expression grew even darker.
Damn it.
I guessed it didn’t look all that professional for his personal assistant to dress in a teenager’s elf costume.
My lips widened into a sheepish grin, followed by an equally sheepish shrug, as if to say, “What can you do?”