Page 18 of A Christmas Auction

That made me chuckle. “Consensual fun. Put down the self-help books, brother.” I went over to the window and watched the sun slip behind the horizon. One thing about Las Vegas, the desert was beautiful.

“You know the new saying, right? Consent is sexy.”

“I have never, and will never, have sex with an unwilling woman. Of course consent is necessary,” I blurted.

A throat cleared from behind me.

Alana and Holly stood staring, one with eyes widened in surprise, the other having clamped her hand over mouth to staunch her laughter.

I let my head drop back and glared at the ceiling. “Thank you for the enlightening conversation, Jonas. I’ll touch base tomorrow,” I sighed and abruptly ended the call and the sound of his laughter.

“Holly is ready to settle in for the night,” Alana stated, her hands clasped together in front of her, the model of cool, calm, and collected.

“Perfect. Let’s go.” I said, gesturing to the door and the elevators down the hall.

Alana broke off at the hallway leading to her office. “Mr. Castellanos, Holly will need to be back here at ten a.m. Mr. Omstead’s private jet leaves at two and we’ll want plenty of time with her glam team to prepare for her date. You will escort her everywhere but keep your distance as to not intrude on their affair.”

“I know how to do my job, Alana. And feel free to call me Bruno. We’ve known one another for quite some time now.”

She dipped her chin primly. “Fais de beaux rêves, ma chérie.”

The door to the elevator opened and I urged Holly inside with my hand on her lower back.

“Bye! Thank you!” She waved then pouted. “I don’t know what she said.”

“She said, ‘sweet dreams, dear.’” I explained.

“You speak French?” Her big brown eyes widened in awe, the colors swirling like heated caramel.

“I speak many languages.”

“Wow. That’s cool. How do you say, thank you so much, in French?” she asked.

“Merci beaucoup,” I translated.

“Merci beaucoup,” she repeated. “And in Spanish?”

“Muchas gracias.” I clenched my teeth in order not to smile. The woman was not only gorgeous, but adorable.

“How about German?” her expression shifted to one of wonder.

“Danke sehr.”

“Awesome. How’s about…umm, Italian!” she blurted as though she’d stump me.

“Grazie mille,” I smirked and cocked an eyebrow, wondering what she’d come up with next.

“Ohhhh I know! I’m gonna get you on this one,” she pressed. “Japanese!”

“Domo arigato gozaimasu.” I put my hands together and bowed forward.

She started to bounce on her feet, enjoying this game. The doors opened to one of the upper floors that held the luxury suites.

“What about…Norwegian!” she said happily as we passed by one of my guards. I nodded in greeting, and he did the same.

My men were dotted throughout the floor, strategically placed, and perfectly poised, as expected from a member of my team. I paid my men very well. They trained for boredom, torture, high stress environments and everything in between. If you wanted a job done right, you hired my company. My men were an extension of what Jonas and I built from the ground up. All former military special operators. There was no better security service in the world.

“Tusen takk,” I murmured as we made it to our suite.

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