“How hard is it to say sorry?”
“For giving you a taste of what you needed for years?”
“Mr. Saint.”
“Tell me something.” He glanced at my dress. “Are your panties wet for me right now?”
I didn’t answer.
“It’s just a few days of play pretend.” He stepped back. “How hard could it possibly be?”
10B
JENNA
Iarrived at the private airport twenty minutes early. A few staff members stood behind the desk, chatting quietly, and Marshall sat nearby reading through a file.
When I approached the main gate, he looked up—and his jaw dropped. The charcoal dress fit better than I’d planned, the coat slipping just enough to make me regret it.
The staff members at the desk stilled, staring at me and making me feel insecure.
I stepped to the left, and all their eyes followed.
I moved to the right, and their gaze followed as well.
Nicholas walked through the far side entrance, strolling toward me with his eyes on his phone.
“Good morning, Miss Dawson.” He stopped right in front of me, his eyes still on his screen. “Do you have everything you need for the trip?”
“No.”
“Then I suggest you ask Francis to make a run to your place to get it while he can.”
“Do I look okay in this?” I whispered. “Everyone in here is staring at me.”
He finally tucked his phone into his pocket, slowly looking me up and down, his lips parting as the seconds passed.
“No, you don’t look okay in that.” His bluntness hurt. “At all.”
“I knew it was too much.” I stepped back. “Give me a few minutes and I’ll change.”
“You look sexy as fuck.” His eyes met mine. “Don’t change a thing.”
“Oh.” I blushed. “Thank you.”
“You’re very welcome.” He looked like he wanted to say more, but a familiar voice echoed through the building.
“It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas!” Mr. Reaves sang off-key as he rolled his luggage toward us. “Everywhere I gooo!”
The staff in the building resumed their tasks. Marshall returned to reading his file.
“Oh, come on, Mr. and Mrs. Soon-to-be Saint!” he exclaimed. “Sing along with me.”
“Hell no,” we said in unison.
“Well, then!” He laughed. “Suck the fun out of the trip early, then. I just can’t get enough of this season—and going home to see family.”
“Then why aren’t you going home to see yours?” we spoke in unison again, and he blinked.
