Page 59 of The Christmas Wife

He frowns, then rolls his shoulders, "They were...disappointed."

"No!" I blink. "You Mr. Billionaire, money bags, surgeon of all he surveys."

"Yeah," he blows out a breath. "Impressing the world is so much easier than impressing your own blood."

"Tell me about it." I glance around for an ashtray to drop the cigar in, then spot it on the side table.

I lean toward it, when he reaches for the stub, "Don’t."

"Don’t what?"

"Don’t snub it out." He takes the stub from my fingers, lays it to rest on the ashtray. "If you do, the cigar oils flow out and burn, and it causes an unpleasant smell."

"So cigars are another of your passions huh?"

"It’s a thing that unites us Seven."

"All of you smoke? I mean,” I make air quotes, “puff?"

"I like to occasionally indulge."

"Is it bad for you?"

"You mean because I am a surgeon?"

I nod.

"Most things that you have a weakness for are bad for you." He looks me up and down.

"And you?" I meet his gaze, "What about you?"

"I am the worst, of course."

I take a step forward. He widens his stance, and I step in the 'V' between his legs.What am I doing? Why can’t I stay away from him? As long as I don’t sleep with him, it’s fine, right?The arrangement still stands.

"The papers?" I lower my chin. "From your lawyers, I mean. When will they arrive?"

"I’ll have them for you by tomorrow."

His phone vibrates from the side table, "In fact, that must be it."

He makes no move no reach for it.

"So…" I swallow.

"So?" He runs a finger up the side of my arm. Goosebumps flare in the wake of his touch. A slow burn begins to hum, creeping, swirling up toward my heart. It would be so easy to lose myself in his presence, to forget the outside world exists. Just him and me, locked away in this cabin and—the lights blink off just then. "Oh." I glance up toward the bulbs set in the rustic settings in the ceiling.

"The wind must have gotten to the power supply."

Right. I glance down to find him watching me from under hooded eyes. If he’d been handsome before, lit by the firelight and nothing else, he’s devastating now. My throat dries, my belly twists, and moisture laces the secret area between my legs.

"Weston." I whisper, "I?—"

Barking sounds from outside.

15

Weston

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