Page 23 of The Christmas Wife

"Hmm," he scratches his jaw, "you may be right there. We’ll have to tone it down though, when we’re seen in public."

"Public?"

He nods, "I have to go to visit my family sometime before Christmas and you’ll come along, of course."

I stare at him. Has he gone mad? Why is he jumping around topics like that? "Wh...what do you mean?"

"You’ll come with me, as my date, to visit with my family in the lead up to Christmas." He speaks slower this time, as if I didn’t understand him the first time around. I still don’t.

"No, I won’t."

"Yes, you will."

I blink. He’s so bloody confident, it borders on delusional.I hadn’t mistakenly agreed to this earlier, had I? No, of course not."Why the hell would I do that?" I scoff.

"Because you wanted a place to spend the holiday season, and this is the only space available."

"No, it isn’t." I shuffle my feet.

"Ever tried finding a place to stay over the holiday season? It’s either sold out, or so expensive, it would be out of your price range.

"How do you know what my price range is?"

"Whatever it is, I can afford it." He smirks.

My jaw drops. Again. Shit, I’ve been doing a lot of that since I got here… But this…this…wanker… He’s got his head up his arse. No doubt, he thinks the sun shines out of it too. I snicker.

He frowns. "Also, you can’t do that while you are here," he drawls.

"What?"

"Think impertinent thoughts."

I blink, then laugh, "Man, you’re something else, you know?"

"As you are going to find out."

I open and shut my mouth, I mean… Why am I standing here arguing with him? I should just march out of here, figure out alternate arrangements across the new year.

"Giving up so soon?" he drawls.

"What do you mean?"

"Guess you know that you can’t last the next six days without falling for my charms."

"What charms?" I look him and down, "You’re a douchebag, is all."

"Exactly what you find so attractive, hmm?"

"You have no idea what I like, or not."

"Oh, trust me," He sits forward in the chair, "I have a very good idea what you…want.… Question is," he lowers his voice to that hushed tone that sinks into my skin. My blood heats; moisture laces my core.How the hell does he draw that reaction from me without trying too hard?

"Do you, Buttercup?"

I swallow, "I have no idea what you’re talking about."

"We’ll have to work on that too."

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