Page 17 of His Until Christmas

“I’m being serious, Reece.”

“Never stop,” he murmurs, which I take to mean I should keep going with my power-imbalance explanation, so I do, even if this leaves me feeling as exposed as seeing myself on YouTube.

“I’m just saying that you’ll only technically be my boss once I send the signed papers to the foundation’s lawyer. In reality, our paths won’t cross.” I tap the folder that is now pressed between us. “We won’t need to see each other at all before I move on.”

His hold tightens. On me.

I have to swallow before I can add this. “And of course we’ll stop messaging each other every morning, like you suggested.”

His tight hold abruptly loosens, and I’m as out of kilter as a tipsy banker. I lurch one last time, which puts me directly under mistletoe painted by a child who might not have survived without Reece to haul them from trafficked waters. Remembering that helps me to keep this simple.

“You aren’t my boss, Reece. At least not yet. Once you are, we won’t spend any working time together.” I finish by looking up at that mistletoe and repeating what he once told me. “I don’tfeel pressured by tradition. And I wouldn’t be kissing a stranger, because you aren’t one, are you?” I don’t mean for this to slip out on a sigh. “It would definitely beat thinking about Lito Dixon.”

Who knows why that spurs Reece into action.

He pulls me close again, but I don’t flinch, not even when he drops that folder of papers to cup my jaw with a huge hand.

Partnership papers flutter. So does something deep inside me. I picture it as a text message arriving to vibrate deep in my chest with a single word for me to pair up.

Kiss.

If Reece sent that word to me for real, I’d text backMandEin capital letters, or I’d type the same as Sebastian, fed up of waiting for his dinner.

omfg pls hurry i am starving

Reece doesn’t. Hurry, I mean. In fact, he looks at me for so long I start to worry he’s replaying my YouTube highlights as London revs up for the festive season outside this townhouse. Nearby streets will bustle with late-night shoppers as Reece leans down oh-so slowly. That feels like being offered every single gift those shoppers purchased, only…

I can’t be certain my name is on this gift tag.

I swallow again before asking for clarification, because all PAs know the devil is in the detail. “So, you and Valentin aren’t…?”

“Aren’t what?”

“Together?”

That earns me a frown. “No. I mean, yes, he did stay with me for a while, but we weren’t ever…” He swallows like I just did, his gaze fixed on my mouth. He also shifts.

Away.

I sense the moment slipping, but I’m an executive PA, remember? Show me a diary in a muddle and I’ll reschedule it into neatness. Rescheduling me and Reece again won’t happen.

Itcan’t, not after this evening.

Our dynamic will change the minute lawyers file those papers.

If Christmas is going to come early, it’s now or never.

5

I catchhold of his elbow, and so much for me being smaller and slighter than him—Reece comes back nice and easy, and Christmasdoescome early.

We kiss, and maybe mistletoe still swings above us. I don’t look up to check. Reece is my entire focus, and the world might as well stop turning the second his kiss shifts gears and his mouth opens to prove he was right.

Kissingisintimate—when it’s with him.

His tongue slides beside mine to confirm it, and I crowd closer, like in the movies Gran used to watch when I stayed at Christmas. Gramps grumbled, but he’d hold her hand as if she might really run off and leave him for a film star. So what if him loving her that much was mushy? I just remember them being happy while I got busy organising my Christmas crayons into size and colour order.

Very satisfying.

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