“Yes, Gretta always picks a party theme that has nothing to do with Christmas. Like a garden tea party, or Hawaiian themed. This year, it’s The Nightmare Before Christmas. Not like the movie. Think all things dark and spooky, like Halloween. We’re going to have a horror film fest.”
“Do you like horror films?” he asks, his breath warm in my ear.
“I hate them.”
“Good. Me too. Go on.”
“I’m planning on giving Jane’s Audi to my sister for Christmas.”
“Nice. How are you getting it home?”
“I’m driving it.”
“Whoa! You must like driving. I would hate that.”
“Or I love my sister.”
“Sounds like torture. I wouldn’t make that drive for love or money.”
“I don’t mind, and I can’t wait for her surprised face.”
“So, you like surprises?” he asks, a little incredulous.
“I do. Don’t you?”
“Nope, not at all, I respond badly to surprises. Even good ones. Never throw me a surprise party.”
It’s a small statement, but I don’t think I’m wrong to hear big promises in it. Liam’s letting me know that this is not a casual relationship.
He pulls me in closer. “You’re so pretty,” he whispers.
“It’s dark. You can barely see me.”
“There’s some light.” This is true; Cat still has her light on to read. “I can see enough. I was struck by how pretty you were the first time I saw you.”
“And horrified at the thought of kissing me. You jumped away like I had cooties.”
“You have it all wrong. I was scared by how much I wanted to kiss you. And since we had just met, and you were working for me at the time... you were totally off limits.”
This comment makes me think about my stupid book in which he’s just the sort of boss who would kiss an employee. This thought kills the mood for me. I stiffen. Liam immediately notices the change in my body language.
“Something wrong?” he asks.
“No.” I lie. “Tell me about Christmas with your family.”
He returns to stroking my hair which feels so amazing I can’t help but relax a little. “At my house, Christmas Eve was the big event... ”
***
I wake with Liam’s bare, muscled armssnugly around me. The hotel room has the strange, heavy white light that comes after a snowstorm.
“Say cheese!” Lydia snaps a photo before I can block my face or Liam’s. I can’t imagine how she could use this picture against me. But still.
“Morning, love birds,” she chirps. “So much for Darcy being a perfect gentleman.”
Liam stirs. “Morning, Lettie,” he greets me with a rusty morning voice. He kisses the top of my head, filling me with so much gladness I can almost forget Lydia and her intrusive photo—except she ruins the moment by continuing to talk.
“I sent this photo to Jane with the caption: Looks like you weren’t the only ones having fun last night.??”
