Page 29 of Sinning for Santa

She shakes her head.

“For fuck’s sake, Jaxcen. Get out of the car.”

Her big blue eyes shoot up to me. “Promise you’re not going to rape me.”

“Fucking hell, woman. I already told you that when you part those thighs, it’ll be because you want to. Now get the fuck out of the car.”

She scoffs, shooting one of her vicious daggers at me as she unfastens her seatbelt and slowly eases out of the car with those god damn heels still in her hand.

Pressing my hand to the small of her back, I lead her up the steps of the old hotel. My men standing guard on either side of the grand doors give me a nod as they open them to let us through, and Jaxcen takes it all in, looking back over her shoulder at my men who close the doors behind us.

Then her gaze roams over everything in our path.

“Who owns this place?” she whispers like she’s worried we will wake someone.

“I’m the king of this palace, little mouse.” I grin and wag my brows at her as her gaze snaps to mine.

“This is yours?” she whispers again and I nod.

“Yes. The Palace is mine. This is hell.”

Her brows shoot high like she’s surprised my home isn’t a fucking dungeon, and a part of me wants to take her down into the cellar to show her where I do have an actual dungeon, but given everything she’s been through tonight, I don’t think she’d appreciate my killing cave that much, so I lead her into the hotel kitchen, where a very tired looking Mabel stands.

“Mr Marx.” She smiles, giving me a welcoming nod before shooting a warm smile to Jaxcen.

“Mabel, please tell me you didn’t get out of bed just for me?”

She waves me off. “I couldn’t sleep anyway and heard you arrive, so I thought that perhaps you’d like some supper before you turn in for the evening.”

Smiling, I glance down at Jaxcen who seems to be stunned given the way her lips are parted and her brows have disappeared into her hairline.

“Are you hungry, little mouse?”

“Oh, umm.” Her dark lashes flutter like she’s just woke from a trance. “I don’t want to impose.”

I chuckle. “Perhaps just some sandwiches, Mabel. Could you bring them up to my suite please?”

“Of course, Mr Marx. Would you like a hot chocolate as well?”

“Would my guest like a hot chocolate?” I ask teasingly as I turn my sights back to Jaxcen who slowly nods.

“If it’s not too much trouble, that would be lovely, thank you.”

Fuck, she’s so damn polite.

So polite. So sweet.

And all I want to do is corrupt her.

As Mabel starts on her task, I lead Jaxcen out of the kitchen and towards the staircase that leads up to my suite. It’s a grand old staircase, the railings a deep mahogany, and the carpet runner a royal red befitting a palace.

Large painted portraits line the walls as we ascend, and Jaxcen’s gaze studies each one as we pass like she is trying to learn something about me.

Unfortunately, those portraits are not my lineage. They were here when I took over the place, and they say something about the history of the town, and the previous owners of the pub, so I thought they deserved to stay.

At the top of the staircase, a set of double doors are ahead, and off to each side is a single door. One of the single doors is access for the staff lift. And hidden away behind the other door is another staircase leading up into the attic.

But the double doors straight ahead lead into my suite, which is where I take Jaxcen.

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