Wanda has a crush her employer and spends much time fantasizing about the life they would have if they were together.

Just before Christmas, she accompanies Charles to a meeting and trips, hitting her head. When she awakens to see her beloved Charlie leaning over her, she's convinced they're married.

Now, Charles, who has avoided all women since his wife left him, can't bring himself to abandon the poor, delusional woman. What's he to do but take her home and pray her memory returns?

Then she shows him the spirit of Christmas and makes him long to be part of her world.

"Hey. Hey." He snapped his fingers.

Wanda snapped her eyes open to see Charlie scowling at her from the opposite seat. Her face heated, and she prayed she hadn't made a sound that would let him know where her mind had been. Between his thighs.

"We're here." He obviously wasn't happy with her. He thought she'd been sleeping.

She nodded and licked her lips, trying not to imagine the scene that had just played through her overactive imagination. "Yes, sir." She grabbed her bag and steno pad and followed him out of the car, smiling at the stoic driver as he held the door for her.

The Cookson building was across the street. With the horrendous noontime traffic, they waited several minutes before they could cross the busy road.

"What's your name?" Charlie asked as he stepped off the curb.

"Wanda Humphries." She grinned. Last time, she worked for him for two days but never graduated past 'hey you.'"

They were halfway across the two lanes of the one-way street when a gust of wind grabbed the steno pad from her fingers and flung it up into the air.

Wanda whirled around, grabbing for it. Her foot slipped on a patch of sloppy wet snow. She tried to catch her balance, reaching out to grab anything, but came up with only air. Her feet flew out from beneath her.

"What in the-" was the last thing she heard Charlie exclaim before the back of her head hit the pavement.

* * * * *

Charles made a grab for the mousy little woman as her feet flew out from beneath her, but she was too far away to catch. The loud thud as she hit the pavement made him cringe. That had to have hurt.

She didn't move.

Cars screeched to a halt as he crouched down beside her. "Wanda." He shook her shoulder. "Wanda."

She groaned, and her eyelids fluttered but didn't open.

"I'm a doctor," a woman said as she crouched down on the other side of Wanda's inert body. She checked for a pulse, but it was obvious Wanda breathed because she moaned again. "Did she hit her head?"

Charles scowled at the woman claiming to be a doctor. "Yes. Obviously."

Wanda moaned again and lifted her hand to her head.

"Try not to move," the doctor said as she slipped a cell phone from her purse.

Wanda didn't listen. She pushed herself up with her other arm, groaning again. Charles wrapped his arm around her shoulder to support her. She was a little thing, scrawny, skin and bones beneath the bulky down jacket. She smelled nice, though. Like fresh air, roses, and snow.

His scowl deepened when he realized his train of thought. "Are you all right?" he asked.

"Oh, my head..."

"Ambulance is on the way," the so-called doctor informed them.

"Oh. No. No." Wanda groaned again. "No ambulance. I'm fine."

The cars started honking, and Charles turned his head to glare at the drivers. Morons. Ben, his limo driver, stood behind him, effectively keeping the cars from plowing into them.

"I'll take her to the hospital," he said. With the afternoon traffic, it would take twice as long for an ambulance to get there and take her to the hospital as it would for his driver to take her. He glanced at his watch. He could still make his meeting.

The doctor pulled a pen light from her purse and checked Wanda's eyes. "Okay, her pupils are reacting. I guess if you can get her there quickly to be checked it should be fine. But it would be smarter to wait for the paramedics."

Charles wasn't one to wait for anybody. He stood up then bent down and lifted Wanda into his arms. She weighed next to nothing.

"I'll cancel the ambulance, then," the doctor said as she stood up also.

"Do that." Charles strode across the street to the limo, while Wanda rested her head against his shoulder. His driver opened the rear door for him, and he stooped inside to lay her on the seat. "Ben will take you to the hospital."

For the first time since her fall, she looked into his eyes. "You're not coming?"

He frowned. "No. I have a meeting."

A small wrinkle appeared between her brows, and she gripped the lapel of his coat. "Charlie, don't make me go alone. Please? You know I don't like hospitals."

Charlie? No one, absolutely no one, called him Charlie. And how the hell would he know if she liked hospitals or not? Then again, who was actually fond of them?

Gripping her wrist, he pulled her hand from his collar. "Have all the bills sent to the company, since you were on the clock when it happened. File workman's comp if you need some time off."

"Charlie?"

He shook his head. That bump on her head must have scrambled her brains. "Take care of yourself," he said, his voice gruffer than he'd intended. Then he backed out the door and slammed it shut.

"Is she all right?" Ben asked.

Charles straightened his coat, then his tie. "Take her to the emergency room and have her checked out." He glanced at his watch again. He had two minutes to make his meeting. "Then see that she gets home safely. I'll catch a cab back to the office when I'm done here."

"Yes, sir."

Charles headed back across the street once again. He hoped the little woman was okay. He'd never seen anyone knocked clean out from a little fall before. The doorman at the Cookson building opened the door for him and gave a slight nod. He strode to the elevator and hit the call button.

Then again, he'd never seen such a little thing fall so hard. He hoped she hadn't caused any permanent brain damage. She seemed a competent secretary, and those were exceedingly difficult to come by.