“No.” I guide her toward the living room, where the massive Christmas tree I had delivered stands bare in the corner. “Not worth the effort. Women see the money, not me.”
“Must be hard to trust anyone’s intentions.”
Something in her tone makes me look at her more closely. She’s fidgeting with her hands, uncomfortable. She’s hiding something. I’ve been in enough boardroom negotiations to recognize evasion when I see one.
I won’t press, but that doesn’t mean I won’t do whatever I can to find out. If she needs help and is too shy to ask for it, then I’ll solve all her problems for her anyway … with or without her knowing.
We reach the living room, and I watch her reaction to the twelve-foot Douglas fir dominating the space. Boxes of ornaments and lights sit unopened beside it. Every year, Ryan picks a theme. This year, he wants all the colors of the rainbow. I can’t really complain. It’s so much better than last year’s dinosaur decorations. Imagine a T-Rex on top instead of a star.
“You’re decorating?” she asks, clearly changing the subject.
“We are. Ryan will be asleep for hours. I thought we could surprise him.”
Her face softens. “That’s a lovely idea.”
I open the first box of lights, unwinding the strand between my hands. “What were your Christmases like growing up?”
She takes the other end of the lights, helping me untangle them. “Small but special. Mom always made sure we had a tree, even when money was tight. We’d make paper chains and popcorn garlands.” She smiles at the memory. “What about you?”
“Quite similar to yours. We didn’t have a lot of money growing up, especially when a new mechanic showed up in town. Mom didn’t make a lot as a seamstress, either. We usually just had eggnog and cake at Christmas. It was fine. I wasn’t big on holidays.”
“And now?”
“Now I have Ryan.” I look up at her, holding her gaze. “I make sure he remembers every single Christmas we spend together.”
We work in comfortable silence for a few minutes, circling the tree with lights. Her hair catches the glow, turning golden. I find myself watching her more than the decorations. If last night I thought her stunning, whatever feelings I have for her have grown tenfold. My self-control already snapped earlier. It’s now so close to breaking point again, I don’t know how to stop it. I don’t know if I even want to.
“Ever sit on Santa’s lap?” I ask, deliberately breaking the silence.
She laughs. “Once. I was five and terrified. I refused to tell him what I wanted because I was convinced he already knew.”
“Smart girl.” I reach around her to adjust a light, my chest brushing her back. She stills, and I feel her breath catch. “What would you ask for now?”
“Nothing complicated. Financial security. Health. The usual adult wishes.”
There it is again—that evasion. Something about money troubles, which is pretty obvious given her participation at an auction, but there’s something else she won’t share. I make a mental note to have my investigator look deeper into her background. I need to know what drove her to that auction, what desperation pushed a woman like her to sell herself to strangers. I have a feeling it’s more than her mom’s medical bills.
“Hand me that box of ornaments,” I say, deciding to press later. For now, I just want to see her smile again.
She brings over a box of crystal snowflakes, carefully lifting one. “These are beautiful.”
“They’re new. I bought them the other day.”
Her eyebrow raises. “You went Christmas ornament shopping?”
“I had my assistant do it.”
She laughs. “Of course you did.”
“What does that mean?” I take the ornament from her hand, letting my fingers brush hers.
“It means you’re exactly what I expected.” She reaches past me for another ornament, her body close enough that I start to burn. “Billionaire who delegates everything.”
“Not everything.” I brush a lock of hair behind her ear. “Some things I handle personally.”
Her skin turns bright red. She steps back, nearly stumbling. I catch her elbow, steadying her.
“Careful, sweetheart,” I say, not letting go. “These floors can be slippery.”
