Page 45 of The Christmas Trap

I lower my chin. “I have a question for you, actually.”

“Well, what is it?”

“Why do you look so tired?”

14

Lark

Why is he so concerned about me? What does he care? When he’s spent all week going out on dates with different women. Jealousy stabs my chest. Anger squeezes my guts. I bat away the confusing emotions.

It makes no difference to me what he does outside the office. He could have slept with a different woman each night, for all I care. He probably did. I can’t see Mr. Virility taking a woman out and not fucking her.

I curl my fingers into fists. Nope. Not going there. Don’t care for the images of his naked body moving with single-minded focus as he thrusts up and into some other pussy.

I gulp a few deep breaths, trying to ground myself.

His grandfather wants him to get married before the end of the year. Of course, he had to go on dates.

Then, there’s me. Iamgetting married before the end of the year.

I should marry him.

Gah. No. What? That’s such a stupid thought.

I shake my hair back from my face and notice the mistletoe tacked above us.

Brody made it clear his office was out of bounds for the festive décor.

The mistletoe at the threshold to his domain was as far as I could push it. I asked for it to hang there as an ironical gesture.

It hadn’t crossed my mind that we’d both be standing under it at the same time.

“You’re standing under the mistletoe.” The words are out before I can stop them.

He raises his gaze and notices it. When he looks at me again, the flash of awareness in his eyes, followed by how he fixes them on my lips, tells me exactly the directions his thoughts have taken.

The hair rises on the nape of my neck.

He’s so close, the heat from his body rolls over me in waves, engulfing me like a furnace that knows my name. The air between us crackles, charged and volatile.

His sheer size, the strength coiled beneath his tailored shirt, radiates a raw, masculine power that pulls at something deep inside me. It’s primal. Magnetic.

My breath hitches. My skin tightens. Every inch of me is aware of him. Of how solid he feels. How safe. How dangerous.

I want to rise up on my toes and press my mouth to his like it’s instinct. Like it’s oxygen. The need hits me like a freight train. Sudden, intense, undeniable.

I’ve never felt this overwhelming desire to be close to another person like this before.

No, not with my fiancé either.

That thought gives me pause. I can’t kiss my boss. I can’t ‘cheat’ on my fiancé. Even if he has been absentee.

Brody must read my thoughts on my face, for his features close. He steps back. Instantly, I miss the heat of his body.

“You didn’t answer my earlier question.”

“What’s that?” I frown.