“You too.” I turn and kiss Bob on the cheek. “See you next year, Bob. Merry Christmas.”
“You too, darling.”
“Don’t tell anyone I slipped out,” I whisper.
“Sure thing.”
I look across the room and lock eyes with Elliot. He gives me a slow, sexy smile and sips his beer. His eyes are dark and hungry and I feel them all the way to my toes.
Fuck.
I drain my glass and walk toward the restroom. I need to throw him off.
I walk in, look at myself and turn around, walk straight back out and dart to the corridor and into the elevator.
With my heart hammering in my chest I ride the elevator down to the ground floor.
Don’t let him follow me . . . please don’t follow me.
I need some distance.
He goes away for two weeks tomorrow, which will give me some breathing space.
The doors open and I walk out through the lobby and onto the street to a taxicab stand, and I dive into the back of one.
“Hello.”
The driver smiles and looks back at me. “Where to, love?”
“Home, take me home . . .”
The snowflake drifts from side to side until it eventually finds its place on the ground. So insignificant on its own, but together with its friends it creates a magical ice blanket.
The moonlight is reflecting off the street below and, in my pajamas, I sit curled and crossed-legged in the window seat of my bedroom, staring out at the world . . . it seems so still and peaceful.
It’s 11:30 p.m. and I can’t even think about going to bed. I’m still wound up.
My mind is ticking at a million miles per minute.
I watch as a car appears around the corner, two headlights light up the road and they come to a stop outside my house. I peer down: it’s a black Bentley.
The back door opens and Elliot climbs out and walks up to my front door.
Shit . . . he’s here.
Chapter 9
Knock, knock, knock echoes from downstairs.
It’s not a gentle are you home knock, it’s an I’m here and I’m pissed knock.
Knock, knock, knock sounds again.
What is he doing? It’s 11:30 p.m., what if the others were home? I storm downstairs and open the door in a rush.
And there he stands, in all his overbearing gorgeousness.
“Yes?” I say.
“Why did you leave?”
“I was tired.”
He raises an eyebrow as his eyes hold mine; he knows that’s a lie.
“What do you want, Elliot?”
“Are you inviting me in?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
Honestly, this man is infuriating.
“Because it’s late and like I told you, I’m tired.”
“We have things to discuss.”
“No, we don’t. I’ve already said my piece.”
“Like hell.” He barges past me and walks upstairs to my bedroom. I exhale as I’m left standing in the hall. “Please, come in.” I close the door and walk up the stairs to find him pacing back and forth in my room, preparing for battle.