Page 28 of Her Holiday Heartthrobs

Waiters wander past, weaving through small groups of people, and Jake snags a champagne glass off one tray. He hands it to me, and the waiter waits long enough for Jake to grab a second before he disappears back into the small crowd.

Downing half of his flute in a gulp, I widen my eyes at him.

“I hate these things.”

No more are the words out of his mouth that a couple saddles up to us, drawing us further into the space. “Jacob Young. How good to see you again, my man.”

Right away, I can tell these two are old money, even though they’re both just past middle-aged. They have the confidence and air about them that screams high breeding and proper social etiquette.

Jake’s hesitation has my elbow digging into his side. “Nice to see you, Harold. Pamela. This is my colleague, Paige Monroe.”

I take the man’s outstretched hand and curtsy a little to the woman.

“How beautiful you are Paige. Is that a Sergio Giorgini?”

I look down at my dress. “Oh. I believe it is, yes.”

“Last year’s design but utterly breathtaking on you.”

“Thank you.” I drum up my best smile at the backhanded compliment. “Is that a Hermès bag? I absolutely love his newest line of Kelly bags. He’s bringing back the iconic designs in a new line. Did you hear?”

The woman’s face lights up, and I know I have her. We talk designers for a good fifteen minutes as the men speak to each other, before Jake pulls me away.

It’s not long before another couple or pair of couples stop us. Each one has Jake clamming up, but none of the women distract me from my purpose this time. I step in and talk business with my:Did you know about the new project RockwellInternational is putting together? Oh, you haven’t heard about the mix of young and old designers we’re recruiting for each unique interior? Splendid, if you know someone who’d like to participate in the contest, please send them our way.

And the more I talk, the more Jake seems to touch me. First, it’s just a hand at my lower back, then, he starts tracing the exposed skin between my shoulder blades, and on to twisting one section of my hair around his finger. Finally, when we’ve gotten a break and made it all the way to the bar, Jake’s hand is at my waist like he’s afraid if he lets me go, I’ll melt back into the waiting throng of people.

He procures me another flute of champagne. This is my third, and it’s already gone straight to my head. Good thing I don’t need filters when I’m talking about work. Jake sighs, downing his glass and signaling the bartender for something stronger.

As he waits, his focus returns to me. “You, Paige, are amazing.”

Heat flushes my cheeks. “It’s really not that hard to talk to people.”

His jaw clenches. “For you, perhaps.”

I lean against his arm. “I’ll teach you a trick,” I say conspiratorially. “Ask them about themselves. Peopleloveto talk about themselves. Makes everything easier.”

Jake traces the thin strap of my dress across my shoulder and down my back. “I wouldn’t know where to start.”

Shaking my head, I roll my eyes at him. “How many people do we have to get through before it’s appropriate to escape?”

“Too many.”

Nabbing a small napkin of food from a passing server, I not-so-daintily shove it into my mouth and follow it with a few sips of champagne. Not ladylike, but it’s the only way to keep meupright. With all the talking I’ve been doing, I’ve barely gotten a bite, and it’sfarpast time for my regularly scheduled dinner.

A soft pang hits me. I really hate missing dinner with my son. I can forgive myself only if I don’t make a habit of it. I can’t dwell for too long because we’re sucked back into the throng. And I have no clue how long we’ve been here other than how tipsy I’ve gotten and how much the pinch of my borrowed heels has made my feet ache.

Escaping one more round of schmoozing, Jake pulls me aside. We’re hovering by a window, using the view as a reason to take a few seconds to ourselves. Or at least, I’m using it as an excuse.

Jake’s hand hooks around my waist again, and he’s so much closer than he’s been all night, chest nearly pressed into mine. The heat of him is a siren call, and I can’t help the way my hands find his shoulders for balance.

He dips closer, mouth brushing my ear. Heat and a long unattended need sears through me. “Want to get out of here?”

I dip my nose against his earlobe, oh so tempted to take a nibble, and say the only word that comes to mind. “Yes.”

JAKE

That dress on Paige has been driving me insane all night. It hugs her every curve perfectly, highlighting her breasts, waist, hips, and long legs in those heels, and I’m finding it harder and harder to hide my arousal. My attraction.

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