Page 7 of The Christmas Wife

The hair on my nape prickles.

"How the hell did you get here?" I frown.

"I drove, of course." She sniffs, "What about you?"

"I was driven here by my chauffeur," I grumble.

"That’s why there’s no car parked outside." She nods. "How do you plan to get around for the time you are here?"

"I don’t."

"Guess you can’t drive with that finger, huh?"

"I can bloody drive, if I want." I scowl, "I choose not to; besides, every time I want to head out, I’ll message my driver."

She opens and shuts her mouth, "Let me get this right. Every time you want to go out, you’ll message your chauffeur who’ll come in from where? London?"

I glare at her, "Don’t be daft. He’s staying in the nearest town. It takes him, maybe, 45 minutes to get here."

"To take you back into the village, and return."

"Umm, yeah." I raise my shoulders, "That’s why he’s called a driver. He drives me around," I snicker.

"I could do that."

"What?"

"Drive you around."

"Why should I want that?"

"Since we are going to be sharing this house?—"

"Nope, we're not. I own this place with the rest of the Seven."

"Saint offered it to me for the duration of the holidays." She scowls, "Pretty sure he loaned the space to me first.”

"I am one of the Seven. I take precedence," I declare.

She gapes at me and… Damn… Every time she opens her mouth, I want to shut her up with my tongue, or other parts of me that would very happily nestle into that warmth. Why the fuck does she turn me on, when she’s the type of complication I can do without?

"Out," I snarl.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" She sniffs, "Why can’t we work this out like adults?"

"Like adults, huh?" I smirk. "Trust me, the kind of things I want to do with you right now would definitely be classified as ‘adult.’"

She reddens. "Can’t you speak a sentence without coming across all lecherous?"

"I haven’t even started," I smirk, “and PS, it’s you who can’t take a hint. Do you want me to spell it out for you?"

"You’re a jerk, you know that?"

I yawn. "Get out of the house or I’ll throw you out bodily."

"You wouldn’t."

"Try me."

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