Page 65 of His Off-Limits Christmas Gift

I picked at his words, thinking that his reply that weshoulddance held a hell of a different meaning fromlet’sdance.

The second he embraced me, though, holding me close but not flush to the point of intimacy, I sighed and faced him fully.

He smiled, but still, it wasn’t the one for me.

“Nate?”

He arched a brow. “Hmm?”

“I told you that I’m clueless.”

He frowned. “What?”

“I told you.” I licked my lips, feeling a surge of urgency to explain it all. To ramble and unleash this funky anxiety that I could’ve screwed this all up somehow.

“I’m clueless. I told you that I’m naïve about men. How to talk to them, how to read them, how to handle them.”

He opened his mouth but I rushed on.

“You haven’t been a mentor. Not at all. You haven’t given me lessons on how to be confident with men. You haven’t provided advice for all these complicated situations and laws of attraction. I still have no idea how to strike up a conversation with a man I am interested in, and Istilldon’t understand how someone can say they’ve got moves.”

He stared at me, piercing me with the intensity of his gaze.

“And I amreallyclueless how to properly tell a man that I love him. That I’m in love with him.” I exhaled. “Through no fault of his own.”

He didn’t say anything. Slowing his steps, he focused his energy on just staring at me. “Rachel?”

“No.” I shook my head. “That was only the first part of the ramble.”

“There’s more?”

I nodded. “Lots more.”

“Can you pause for this?” He leaned down, capturing my lips with his. The kiss started soft. Tender, even, but once my brain clicked on and I realized he waskissingme, I grunted with surprise and reached up to kiss him back harder.

He was kissing me, holding me closer and showing all who might be watching that we weren’t just dates to this holiday party. He waswithme.

When he backed up, watching me, I struggled to speak. Opening and closing my mouth, I was at a loss for what to explain, or ask, next.

“Hold that thought,” he interrupted.

Without giving me a chance to reply, he grabbed my hand and led me off the dancefloor.

I followed, hurrying to keep up with his stride as he left the dancing area. We wove through the crowd, dodging all the people drinking and mingling and all around having a pleasant night.

I’d been so frantic to score a moment alone with Nate to explain myself and tell him how I felt. Now that he was practically rushing me out of the whole ballroom, I had no clue what to think or feel. That kiss was awfully promising. But didn’t he need to see this damn party to the end?

He hadn’t wanted to come here and face those painful memories alone, but was sneaking off with me the way hewanted everyone to remember him at this year’s holiday party? It was just as scandalous.

Maybe even more so.

He didn’t slow or stop, not until he snuck me into an elevator and jabbed the button for an upper floor. Through a twisting, confusing series of turns, I followed him and quickly felt lost.

When he pushed through another set of doors, though, pulling me into an office space that looked familiar, I realized belatedly that the Malley, Inc. building was connected to the posh venue.

“Huh,” I said. “I never realized we were somehow on the same block.”

Skyscrapers blended like that for me, and I sort of liked how the metropolis just merged into a huge spread of architecture, reaching for the sky.

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