Page 8 of Wicked Christmas Eve

Talk about confusing.

She smiled and looked between me and Cyrus. I wasn’t sure what was going through her head, but I was pretty sure she got the wrong idea when her grin grew wider and she said, “Yes, Sir.”

With that she disappeared through the front door and left us alone. My insides had frozen again. I was alone with Cyrus Jackson. Cyrus Jackson who was obviously into some kinky shit.

“I can go too,” I blurted the words as I tried to turn toward the door as well.

“Wait.”

I hated to admit it, but the strength of his voice pinned me in place. Or maybe it was the history between us that did. Or all the pining on my part over the years. Whatever it was, I stopped and turned back.

“What brought you in here? I don’t believe we had anymore appointments today.”

I swallowed as the heat of a new blush crept up my neck and into my cheeks. Guess that explains why the woman…

“I was supposed to have an interview with Theodore Jackson.”

“You wanted to work here?” It came out on a near chuckle.

Something about that rubbed me the wrong way. There was nothing funny about this at all. I knew that was a lie, but I was going to cling to it like a life preserver that meant the difference between life and death.

“Actually I didn’t.”

His brows drew together. “I don’t think I understand. You came in on Christmas Eve to interview for a job you didn’t want?”

I sighed, trying not to reach up and rub my temples to stave off the oncoming headache I could feel just behind my eyes. “The whole thing was arranged by my mother. I recently lost my job in Charlotte and she took it upon herself to contact her attorney to see if he still needed a legal secretary.”

“He does. Only he wasn’t feeling great after lunch so he went home and left me to handle the remainder of the day. Guess that includes your interview.”

“Well, I’m really sorry I interrupted this uhh—whatever it was and wasted your time. I only came because it would have been impolite to not show.”

“You could have called and cancelled.”

“Yes, you’re right. Only that would have made my mother insane. It was far easier to come in, confess the truth and be able to tell my mother with a clear conscience that the job wouldn’t work out.”

“Why do you assume it wouldn’t work out?”

My head jerked up. “Is that a real question?”

He chuckled and the sound reverberated along my skin much the way a lover’s caress would feel. Or his lips did when he brushed them across my skin. I closed my eyes and breathed until I could get ahold of my runaway and extremely inappropriate thoughts.

“Well, all awkward beginnings aside. We do need a legal secretary and this kind of thing is not the norm around here. My best friend, Boone likes to play games when he’s in town.”

I tried not to think about what kind of games Cyrus liked to play, I really did. But my mind was already there before I could stop it and my face flamed hot with the evidence.

And of course he noticed. His brows rose and his head cocked. A few moments of silence passed where neither one of us probably knew what to say. This wasn’t some kind of reunion or date. I’d come for an interview and we both had to retain a certain amount of professionalism despite the weird start.

“Shall we?”

I jerked at his question. “What?” I wasn’t sure what he was offering, but I had a sinking feeling that whatever it was if it meant for even a second I would experience his touch on my body I would not be able to say no.

“The job interview. I’ve got the time if you do.”

My stomach flipped as embarrassment at a whole new level flooded through me.

“No—I—uh—don’t think so. I don’t even live here anymore. I live in Charlotte and despite my mother’s herculean efforts to keep me here, I leave the day after Christmas.”

“Ahh,” he said, a scowl suddenly marring his face. “I get it now.”

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