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Nicholas James, the hottest man on the planet, was bare-assed naked with a bow covering his cock.

Steph gaped. And not just any kind of gape, but a “bug-eyed, mouth hanging open to catch flies” kind of gape. Before she could even think twice, she flipped up the red bow and then drooled at what was under it. Oh. My. God.

“Jesus, Steph,” muttered her paralegal Elaine, bringing her sharply back to the festive boardroom and the sounds of Frank Sinatra singing holiday songs. “Your Secret Santa gift can’t be that bad. Let me see it.” She held out her hand and beckoned with her fingers, showing off long acrylic nails with airbrushed snowmen.

Hugging the silver foil box to her chest, Steph thrust over the restaurant gift certificate that had concealed the photo beneath—the photo with the clever little bow strategically glued with just enough hinge to afford her an eyeful.

“Ooohhh, nice. I love Dominico’s.” Elaine’s red painted mouth curved in a smile. “You should take me. All of my dates are too cheap to go there.”

“Uh.” Turning her head, Steph searched the crowded boardroom for the naked man of her dreams. Of course, Nicholas wasn’t naked right now. Not at the Mitchell, Jones, and Cline annual Christmas party. No, right now he was wearing beautifully tailored slacks in dark blue, a crisp white shirt with blue tie and white silk vest. She loved that he wore three-piece suits. Somehow, the urbanity of his clothing only served to accentuate the raw masculine power of his body. He was single and gorgeous, and like most single and gorgeous men, he led an active lifestyle which kept him in fine shape.

Just the sort of man most women were wildly attracted to. She, however, avoided him like the plague. She’d learned her lesson the first time.

Her breath caught.

There he was. By the door.

You could hardly miss him. Not when he was so tall and broad shouldered. His dark hair gleamed under the glow of blinking strings of Christmas lights, as he leaned his lanky frame casually against the doorjamb. He was staring at her with a wicked half smile.

Then he winked.

Realization hit her hard and made her gasp.

Somehow, he’d found her wish list. The fantasy one. The silly stupid naughty wish list.

Oh. My. God!