“Then if I were you, I wouldn’t cancel my reservation. Like the lovely Estelle here pointed out, I booked the most expensive accommodation you have. If you want to put a dent into what you owe the bank, this certainly helps. Quite a bit. Plus, I already paid in full. You wouldn’t want to have to refund me all that money. Would you?”
“You…” She parts her lips, seemingly searching for the words she needs. The vein in her forehead throbs again, making her look even more beautiful, if that’s possible.
“Fine,” she eventually relents with an annoyed huff. “You can stay. But only because I want your money. I don’t need it, but—”
“Of course you don’t.” I give her a brilliant smile. “Now, I’d like to check in, Ms. Holley.”
“Right this way, Mr. Reed.”
She spins on her heels, and it takes all my resolve to keep my eyes from checking out her ass in her slim-fitting jeans that cling to every delicious inch of her.
“Normally, I’d give you a rundown of our holiday activities,” she begins as she takes over for one of her employees at the registration desk, typing at the keyboard. “But seeing as you have zero interest in those—”
“Who says?”
She looks up from the monitor and blows out an annoyed laugh. “Based on our last conversation when you claimed Christmas was a giant waste of resources, I do.”
I rest my elbow on the wood counter, leaning toward her. “Humor me, Ms. Holley. Maybe you’ll help me find my Christmas spirit.”
Flirting with her is the absolute last thing I should be doing. I’m here to figure out a way to convince her to sell. Not figure out a way to get into her pants.
I tell myself it’s because it’s been a while since I’ve had a woman in my bed. That this has nothing to do with being attracted to her. Ican’tbe attracted to her. I’m here to do a job. She’s a necessary part of that job. A stepping stone.
Or, more accurately, a blockade.
But a blockade I’ll quickly dispense of, no matter the cost.
Which is why I refuse to admit I’m even remotely attracted to her.
But if that were the case, why can’t I stop watching her mouth move? Why can’t I stop fantasizing about how those lips would taste? Why can’t I stop imagining how other parts of her body would taste, too?
“Sounds fun, doesn’t it?” Her chipper voice cuts through, yanking me back to the present.
“Loads of fun.”
She gives me a disbelieving look. “You didn’t hear a word I just said, did you?”
“Of course I did,” I lie, not wanting to admit I haven’t been able to focus on anything other than her mouth since I walked through the front doors of this inn.
She could have just confessed to killing Kennedy, or knowing what really happened to Amelia Earhart, and I wouldn’t have heard a single syllable of it, too entranced by her and this strange sensation that spirals through me whenever I’m in her presence.
“Christmas and holiday cheer and roasting chestnuts on an open fire.”
“Oh, really?” She tilts her head. “So you’d be interested?”
I glance around. Both Estelle and the other front desk staff member listen to our conversation with interest, neither of them giving me any indication as to what Parker just said.
The way I see it, this can go one of two ways. I can just admit I wasn’t paying attention because I was fantasizing about how her lips would feel on certain parts of my body. That’s what a smart person would do. What the voice inside my head tells me to do.
But all my brain cells seem to disappear whenever I’m around this woman.
So instead of doing the smart thing and admitting the truth, I continue playing along.
“Why wouldn’t I be? I’m here to have the Christmas at Holley Ridge experience you talked about so animatedly the other day. This is part of that. Isn’t it?”
A mischievous glint flashes in her blue eyes, making me sense I’m not going to like whatever I just agreed to.
“Then be in the barn at seven tonight.”
