Page 9 of Silent Night Temptation

She is reserved, and her gestures are small and tentative. She clasps her hands together on her lap now and then. I catch her glancing out the window, her fingers twitching slightly, as if unsure what to do with themselves. She thanks me softly for picking her up, her voice barely rising above the steady hum of the engine. It’s then that I remember what Coco had told me in passing, how Nyree had been going through a rough time and doesn’t have a family to spend the holidays with.

That memory stirs a pang of sympathy within me. Suddenly, her timidness and almost bashful demeanor make sense. There’s a fragility to her, a quiet sort of tension in the way she holds herself, like she’s not sure if she belongs. I feel a soft tug of responsibility, an instinct to put her at ease.

Breaking the silence, I glance over at her. “It’s great that Coco didn’t get on her flight before this hit,” I say, my voice gentle but conversational. “Best if she stays put till this storm clears. This is no weather for flying.”

“Yeah…” she replies quickly, almost as if she’s been rehearsing her answer. “Flying in this storm would’ve been… bad.” Her voice trails off, deliberately, as though she’s choosing her words with extra caution.

There’s something endearing about her hesitation; the way she carefully navigates the conversation, trying not to say the wrong thing. I can’t help but smile. A small laugh escapes me, a short, warm sound that seems to break the tension hanging between us.

She looks over at me. Her expression softens slightly, a hint of relief passes over her face. The laugh, it seems, has calmed her. For the rest of the drive, her posture loosens, and though it remains quiet, there’s a visible shift in the mood. She seems a little more comfortable and less on edge. I keep my eyes mostly on the road, but now and then, I catch glimpses of her from the corner of my eye and notice the subtle changes in her demeanor. It’s a small victory, but it makes the long drive through the storm feel just a little easier.

We finally arrive at the vacation house. The glowing warmth from its windows cut through the cold like a beacon of comfort. I feel a sense of anticipation wash over me as we pull into the driveway. The place had been prepped earlier in the week, ready for the holidays. As we approach, I’m already filled with a familiar sense of peace. The walk from the car to the house is mercifully brief, the striking wind nipping at us for just a moment before we are embraced by the house’s welcoming warmth.

I shrug off my coat, feeling the heat seep into my skin, thawing me. Nyree does the same, and as she slips off her jacket, I hear her soft voice behind me.

“Thank you for picking me up,” she says.

I turn to respond, my mind on autopilot. But when I look at her, I freeze. Words die in my throat.

With her coat off, Nyree is no longer a bundled up figure lost in layers. Now, I can really see her. And what I see leaves me completely stunned.

Her dark eyes are distinct, soft but with an intensity that feels both inviting and meek. Her curly black hair bounces lightly, framing her face perfectly, the kind of hair that makes you want to run your fingers through it. Her skin is a warm caramel, catching the light in a way that seems to pull me in, the richness of it almost glowing. And her figure… God, her figure. She’s fuller than most women I’ve known, but in the most incredibly seductive way. Her curves are generous, unapologetically feminine, and stir something wild inside me I haven't felt in a very long time.

I stand there, rooted to the spot, staring like a fool. For a moment, the room narrows to just her, her soft eyes, and the way she moves with an effortless grace, despite her initial shyness. Time stretches on, and I’m caught in this spell, utterly enthralled by her beauty. She’s staring back at me too, her brow furrowed slightly, as if she can sense the shift between us. There's confusion in her eyes, she’s feeling something similar?

Jesus Christ, Marcus. Get a grip.She’s about your daughter's age!I mentally scold myself, tearing my eyes away from her. She’s only 25, and I’m 45 years old. I force myself back to the present.

“You’re welcome,” I manage, my voice steady despite the flurry of emotions inside me. I turn, focusing my attention anywhere but her. “Coco should be here tomorrow, if the weather clears up. In the meantime, I’ll make sure you get settled in.”

Without waiting for a response, I head straight for the kitchen, my body moving almost automatically. I need distance. I need a moment to breathe.

Once I’m in the kitchen, I lean against the counter, exhaling sharply, my heart racing.“What the hell was that?”My mind spins, replaying when I first saw her without her coat. It was an almost overwhelming surge of attraction. It's disorienting. I haven’t felt like this about anyone in years.

I stop the thought in its tracks, shaking my head as if I could physically rid myself of it. I take a few deep breaths, steadying myself and focusing on the rhythmic rise and fall of my chest. I’m not some kid who can’t control himself.Get it together, Marcus. That is your daughter’s friend!

After a few moments, I feel the bubbling lust subside. The intensity of that moment easing, though not entirely gone. I run a hand through my hair, exhaling one last breath, and push myself away from the counter. Time to get back out there.

When I return to the living room, I find Nyree standing in the middle of the room, that same uncertain look on her face as though she’s not sure where she fits in this space. She looks almost vulnerable in that moment, and a wave of something, protectiveness maybe, clings to me.

“Hey,” I say, my voice softer now. “Let me show you to your room.”

She smiles, grateful, and follows me upstairs. I lead her to the guest room at the end of the hall, flicking on the lights as we step inside. It’s a cozy space, with a warm color scheme and a few of my favorite books stacked on the shelves by the window.

“This is nice,” she says, her voice carrying a hint of surprise as she looks around the room.

I watch her for a moment as she moves deeper into the space, the soft light casting a glow over her. She walks ahead of me, and again, I can’t help but notice the way her curves move, the way they seem to call to something deep inside me. It’s unsettling, this pull I feel. I realize I need to leave her presence before I let it get the better of me again.

“Make yourself comfortable,” I say quickly, already making my way to the door. “I’ll go make dinner.”

“Oh,” she says, turning back to me. “I can help. It’s the least I can do after the ride.”

I stop, turning to face her again. There’s something about the way she says it, so innocent, so earnest. It makes my heart start pounding faster. I know that being in the kitchen with her, in such close proximity, would be a terrible idea. Not when I’m still trying to push down this attraction, that’s bubbling up inside me.

“Thanks,” I say, managing a smile, “but I’ve got it. You’ve had a long flight. You should take a hot bath, relax a little, and get some rest.”

She nods, though I can see the faintest trace of disappointment in her eyes. Still, there’s understanding there too, and I take that as my cue to leave, heading downstairs to the kitchen.

Once I’m alone, I begin preparing dinner. My hands move with practiced ease as I chop onions and vegetables, trying to focus on the simple, familiar task in front of me. The wind howls outside, the snow beating relentlessly against the windows, and I look out to see the storm is still in full force.

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