Page 83 of Her Holiday Arrangement

Riley kissed her cheek. “You had a good partner.”

Elizabeth closed her eyes, letting it settle into her bones: the warmth, the chaos, the imperfection that somehow felt like perfection. She was still learning. But for the first time in her life, she wasn’t learning alone.

The penthouse was hushed again.

Snow swirled against the penthouse windows like glitter shaken loose from the sky, catching the city light before dissolving into night. Inside, warmth wrapped the space like a blanket, the tree twinkling in mismatched ornaments, the record player crooning soft jazz, the faint scent of pine and cocoa hanging in the air.

Elizabeth stood at the doorway, bare feet sinking into the rug, watching Riley fuss beneath the crooked sprig of mistletoe she’d insisted on hammering into the doorframe.

When she had it exactly where she wanted it, Riley tugged Elizabeth forward with a mischievous look. “You know the rule,” she murmured.

Elizabeth arched a brow, her smirk automatic. “That I’m required to indulge your questionable taste in holiday décor?”

Riley gasped dramatically. “Blasphemy. It’s a tradition.”

Elizabeth slid an arm around her waist, pulling her flush against her. “Traditions are only worth keeping if they serve a purpose.”

Riley tilted her head, eyes gleaming. “So make it worth keeping.”

Elizabeth kissed her.

The moment their lips met, warmth flared low in her stomach, curling, insistent. Riley’s mouth was soft, pliant, then bold, pressing closer, parting just enough to taste. Elizabeth felt Riley smile against her lips before the kiss deepened, their bodies aligning beneath the silly sprig of green.

She meant it to be brief, a holiday concession, but Riley had always undone her control without even trying. Fingers threaded into Elizabeth’s hair, tugging just enough to make her sigh into Riley’s mouth. The sound startled her, soft, unguarded, but Riley swallowed it like a secret.

When they broke apart, Riley’s laugh was breathless, her forehead pressed to Elizabeth’s. “Careful, Hale,” she whispered, voice low and teasing. “Someone might think you’ve gone soft.”

Elizabeth brushed her thumb over Riley’s cheekbone, trying for composure even as her chest ached with want. “Don’t be absurd. I’m still terrifying.”

“Oh, sure,” Riley teased, her grin wicked. “Absolutely petrifying. Especially barefoot in pajamas.”

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes, though the corner of her mouth betrayed her. “You’re mocking me.”

“Maybe.” Riley’s grin widened. She gave Elizabeth a playful shove, then turned, tugging her down the hallway. “Come on, Ice Queen. Let’s see if you’re as terrifying in bed as you are in a boardroom.”

Elizabeth let herself be pulled, pulse quickening. Her voice followed Riley, silk over steel. “You’re very bold tonight.”

“Bold enough to call you out.” Riley glanced over her shoulder, eyes glittering. “Try not to boss me around too much, Ice Queen.”

Elizabeth caught her, spinning her gently against the wall halfway to the bedroom. Riley’s breath hitched, lips parted, anticipation spilling into the air like heat. Elizabeth leaned close, her mouth brushing Riley’s ear, her voice a dark promise: “No promises.”

Riley shivered, her laugh breaking on a gasp when Elizabeth kissed her again, slower this time, deliberate, savoring the taste, the warmth, the sheer fact that this woman was hers.

And Elizabeth, once the perfect Hale heir, once the ice-bound daughter who thought love was a liability, let Riley pull her into the bedroom, the door shutting behind them.

Clothes were tugged loose, laughter muffled against mouths, bodies tangled in blankets and shadows. In the dark, with the snow falling and Riley’s body pressed to hers, Elizabeth let herself believe.

The Ice Queen had melted.

And what remained was a woman who had finally chosen to stay, chosen love, chosen warmth, chosen Riley.