Page 16 of A Billionaire for Christmas
Dinner was divine. The company too. And by the time it was over and they made their way to the elevator, Sara repeatedly told herself to get a grip because a tree farmer’s daughter wasnotbillionaire-heir material.
But right now, the way he looked at her?
It might not be a game, but you know whatever it is, it’s temporary.
Instead of whisking them down to the ground floor, the elevator stopped after the shortest of rides, and the doors opened again.
She blinked at him but allowed him to tug her down a short hallway to a door. A swipe of his card opened into a glorious penthouse-floor suite. She stopped on the threshold. “Rhys…”
“No expectations, sweet Sara. I’ll behave myself. But it’s early yet, so I brought you here hoping we can try to find some of your missing Christmas spirit.”
“How?” Yeah, she was suspicious. Especially since his promise to behave was said in a husky voice that curled her toes.
“By helping me decorate my tree?”
He pointed toward the interior, and she peered in to see one of the flocked trees she’d sold him freshly lit in the corner of the living space.
“I had my assistant get us some decorations. I thought we could decorate the tree, sip some wine and continue our conversation. What do you say?”
The lure of Rhys Lachlan should be bottled and sold. The combination of gorgeous man, gravelly voice and the sandalwood scent of his undoubtedly expensive cologne made for one heck of a heady elixir.
And while she had questions galore about why he paid her any attention at all, she lifted her chin and decided to gift herself this evening. After all, it wasn’t every day she found herself on the receiving end of such a tantalizing man. And while he may be totally out of her league and more the fairytale prince to her forever-Cinderella-before-the-slipper, even Ella got a night at the ball. “I’m not sleeping with you.”
Because there was fun—and then there was heartbreak. And if the last twenty-four hours had shown her anything, it was just how easy it would be to fall for someone like him. “You’ll keep your hands to yourself.”
His gaze warmed as she set the boundary, and she faltered at the sight. He looked at her as though…she’d passed some sort of test? That couldn’t be right, though. Could it?
“Deal. Take your heels off and get comfortable,” he said as he swept an arm wide to invite her inside. “This might take a while.”
Two hours or so later, Sara stepped back and took in the glittering tree. Like the color scheme outside near the pool, the decorations provided were varying shades of beachy teals, golds, and pearly whites, but against the flocked tree, they stood out even more.
And since she was sort of a tree decorating expert after so many years on the farm, she willingly set the pace to keep her mind off her handsome host, rambling on about the best way to disguise gaps in the limbs and other nonsense. They inserted the largest ornaments or clusters of them into the bare spaces before working their way down to the smaller ones as fillers.
The majority of the decorations were bulbs, but there were also a few exquisitely beautiful seahorses, conches, and beach-themed items as well. Rhys’s PA had even obtained a beautiful topper of faux sea oats, sparkling coral, and featherysomethingsthat she’d never have thought of as having potential in that grouping but looked absolutely stunning where it sat as the final piece to be added.
Rhys had found a music channel on the television, and holiday acoustic guitar played softly in the background. They took a break midway through and opened a delicious wine, sipping and chatting as they’d tucked and draped and fussed over each limb. She wore a bit of the fake snow on her dress, and Rhys had offered to get her a change of clothes, but she didn’t mind. A quick wash and her favorite dress would be good to go again. That, and the thought of wearing Rhys’s clothing was…more tempting than it should be.
She caught Rhys watching her again and like every time before, her body warmed with a flush of awareness.
“Any plans of taking over your father’s tree farm when the time comes?”
A low chuckle burst out of her as she shook her head. “The trees would die within a year.” She wrinkled her nose. “I’m afraid I have a bit of a black thumb. Selling the trees is one thing, but growing them quite another.”
She carefully secured a gold-and-glittery pearl-layered ribbon among the limbs and sighed. “I’m afraid in that aspect, I’m a huge disappointment to my parents. I’ve no doubt they hope I’ll change my mind or marry someone interested in keeping up the tradition, but…”
“It’s not the life you want?”
She pursed her lips and turned to grab another artfully tied ribbon. Wherever the decorations had come from, they weren’t cheap. “The farm is great. It’s…magical. I’m happy to visit and get my fix of fresh air and quiet, but…I also like coffee shops and busy streets.”
“You could hire a manager to oversee things.”
She smiled again, though this time it was pained. “Farms like my family’s don’t make much. They typically break even and do it for the love of it.”
Sara caught Rhys’s stare and sucked in a breath at the look in his gaze. “What?”
“Nothing. Just thinking. What was it like? Growing up there?”
He pulled story after story from her about her childhood and college years and parents’ costumed antics and how much she hated that she couldn’t be at the hospital to see her mother because she was needed to handle the lot.
