Page 54 of The Naughty or Nice Deal

“What’s that look for?” Ford seems genuinely amused by my reaction. “Is it really that hard to believe I’d do something like this?”

“No, not at all. Liam never would’ve even thought of something like this, though. I don’t think he ever noticed I was colorblind, or my light sensitivity. But you two are so different—maybe this fake relationship actually has a chance of being believable.”

A hard look, harsher than I would’ve expected, crosses his face. “You’re damn right we’re different. I’ve got my faults, but I’m nothing like that lazy, entitled asshole. Liam should have noticed these things about you, and he should have been doing stuff like this for you constantly until you took it for granted. It’s a damn good thing he doesn’t get any more chances to let you down.”

As he talks, he keeps moving forward, and I find myself backing up instinctively. I’ve seen Ford this serious plenty of times—he’s a naturally intense man—but this feels different. More personal. More possessive.

My back hits the wall, and I have nowhere else to go.

He stares down at me from inches away as I stare right back at him. We’re so close I can feel the heat radiating from his body.

I don’t know what to say. This should be just platonic, professional, and yet⁠—

Ford cups my chin, tilting my head up to meet his gaze. I’m trembling.

“No one is watching us right now,” I whisper.

“You sure about that?” he murmurs, and then his mouth is on mine.

I melt instantly as his body presses me against the wall, pinning me there with controlled strength. His hand is still on my chin, keeping me exactly where he wants me. His tongue sweeps over the seam of my lips and I shiver from head to toe.

My mind has gone blank. I can’t think of anything except the warm pressure of his lips and the way he tastes.

Ford’s tongue teases at the seam of my lips again, searching, pressing, and I’m just about to part my lips to let him in when I hear an amused, startled, “Oh, whoops!”

He pulls away from me reluctantly, our mouths making a soft sound as they part. I look over, feeling a bit dazed.

Lydia is standing there, trying valiantly to hold in laughter. “Sorry to interrupt.”

“You’re not sorry at all,” Ford growls.

She shrugs as if to say you’ve got me there. “I wanted to know if Maeve wanted to help me make some Christmas cookies to take to dinner tonight. You know Mom’s rule—never show up as a guest empty-handed.”

He drags his nose along my neck, like he’s inhaling my scent or maybe imprinting himself on me, and then he pulls away, releasing me with obvious reluctance.

I nearly sink to the floor. I’m not sure my knees can hold me anymore.

Lydia just looks at me expectantly, that mischievous grin still playing on her face.