Page 31 of His Off-Limits Christmas Gift

Kyle never held my hand like he feared me letting go, like he wanted to be closer but wasn’t sure about making a move. Nate did. His fingers locked around mine like he had no intention of parting.

Kyle never touched my face and gazed into my eyes like he was warring with indecision about leaning in closer. Nate did. When he gripped my chin and forced me to look at him, I was a puddle of swoony need.

“Nowhere,” I replied, wishing I could promise it. I never wanted this closeness to fade. It’d happened suddenly, and not where I ever expected it could be possible, with my boss, my brother’s best friend.

“You were thinking about something,” he teased.

You. Just you.I had let my mind wander as I stressed and fretted about the cruelty that he would swear himself off all women. Including me.

It seemed like such a tall order, to imagine thatIcould be the one woman to knock him out of this self-imposed solitude.

As if I had something no other woman could offer.

“I was thinking.” I stalled, racking my confused mind for something to say that would make sense and not rock the boat too much. “About how you might plan to mentor me.”

“I can’t say I’ve given it much thought yet.” He sighed.

Still, he held my hand.Is he even aware that he’s holding it? Is this on purpose?I wanted his advice on how to decipher things with men, but what I really needed was a tutorial on how to figurehimout.

“It’s been busy.”

“So that lunch?—”

“You call that lunch?” He laughed, sidestepping a saxophone player dressed as the Grinch on the sidewalk. “That was lunch, a snack, and a couple of hours more.”

“Yeah, that. Did you ask me to join you for the sake of seeing the afternoon disappear? Or was that supposed to be a mentoring exercise?”

“Hmm. I can’t say. I don’t really know. I just realized it’d been too damn long of not seeing you or talking to you with how busy I was. I figured I was overdue another shot at making you laugh.”

Easy, there.If he wasn’t careful, I’d fall head over heels for him. A man with a mission to make me crack and hear my laugh? That was… sweet. I was touched.

“Are you saying I don’t laugh enough?” I asked, keeping my tone light. “That I’m too serious?”

“For someone your age?—”

I growled, cutting him off. “Oh, stop with that!”

He cracked up more, pulling me closer with a side hug. “Okay. Okay. I will. I’ll admit that was one of the hardest things to get over. To reconcile the young kid sister of my friend withthis.” Gesturing at me with his hand, he gave me a long, appreciative once-over.

“This?” I asked, raising my brows.

“Yeah. This sexy, smart woman?—”

I couldn’t tear my gaze off him. Looking up at him prevented me from watching where I was walking, though. And with his focus locked on me, not the sidewalk, it was no surprise that we both collided into someone else.

“Oh! Sorry—” I began to say.

“Watch where you’re—” The tall brunette we bumped into gawked at us. Not us. At him. “Nate?”

He stepped back, not only to be polite and give this person space, but also to provide a buffer.

“Nate?” the woman repeated, like she couldn’t believe he would dare to impede her path. A slick sneer covered her face, and I realized I was about to get another example of how rude New Yorkers could be. But then her sneer morphed. She slipped into a slow, smug smile as she looked him over. “It is you.”

He exhaled, meeting her head on. “Yasmin,” he greeted with a curt nod.

It was the iciest I’d ever seen him. And within reason.

Yasmin?

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