Page 22 of A Billionaire for Christmas
He prided himself on his ability to see things logically and objectively, but he could see no downside here.
Some might think he needed to marry a wealthy socialite or secure some sort of business arrangement to better his position and gain power, but he couldn't care less about that.
He did well; he had enough money for several lifetimes. Would inherit more. He wanted something real, something lasting. “I think that’s it. Have a good day, ladies.”
Rhys left the store with the pretty package, and Axel fell into step behind him outside the boutique.
They made their way through the hotel, drawing attention as always from guests and employees alike.
Rhys focused on Sara. On his next steps.
When they’d headed back to the boat, he’d sensed her withdrawing from him. That lasted all the way back to the camper when she’d ended the make-out session, even though he’d sensed her own reluctance.
She’d looked wide-eyed and more than a bit unsteady on her way inside the camper, her response as precious to him as the potential of what might be if Quinley was right aboutSara-dust.
ChapterFourteen
The days before Christmas passed in a blur. The last two days of freedom before the new shipment of trees arrived were spent with Rhys. He came to the camper every day to pick her up, and they’d go for a drive or grab lunch or just go back to the hotel suite to watch the classic Christmas movies he insisted she needed to see in order to recapture the Christmas spirit she’d claimed to lack.
She’d had more fun and laughed more since meeting her handsome new friend than she had in ages, but with every hour that passed in seclusion with him, the doubt that niggled at her about him being embarrassed of her grew. And grew some more.
She allowed herself to enjoy her time with him. Gave herself over to the tantalizing kisses and the breathless sighs he drew from her before she forced herself to stop the madness, believing it would avoid the heartbreak she saw looming in the days ahead.
She knew it wouldn’t stop that tug of pain, but keeping herself from taking that last step was critical in her mind. A last-ditch effort to avoid worse pain should she succumb.
Now it was her last evening of freedom. Buck would arrive with a load of trees tomorrow, and her time with Rhys would end as abruptly as it began. But maybe it would help break the addiction that was Rhys Lachlan and clear her muddied brain from wanting more than she could expect to have.
She liked herself. She was a smart, capable woman. She loved and was loved by friends and family. She was confident in her talents and abilities as a human being. But sheknewher level in the scheme of life, and whatever this was with Rhys wouldn’t last. It wasn’treal.
She’d allowed herself a few days to revel in the excitement and headiness of Rhys, but when it came down to it?
She wanted a fireplace. She wanted that warm, safe, hot pleasure that could be stoked high or banked, but would never, ever burn out.
It was what her parents had, and it was what she craved in her very soul. She couldn’t count the times her parents had embarrassed her with their PDAs. But anyone with eyes and ears knew without any doubt theyloved,and they loved deeply. Even after all their years together, the fireplace still burned.
This thing with Rhys was a firework. It was hot and heady and beautiful in all its blazing, sparkly glory, but it would explode and fizzle and be gone in the blink of an eye. Burned out and forgotten as the next firework flared to life for him.
They’d planned to spend the final day together, but Rhys had business he had to handle that couldn’t wait, so she’d spent the morning working on her children’s story and making notes for the pages she’d need to design.
When she’d nearly given up on seeing him, he’d texted that he was finished and on his way. No doubt for another evening shielded from everyone like a secret.
She blinked, realizing she just stood there staring down at her clothes strewn across the camper bed and wasn’t making progress on finding a “last date” outfit. She grabbed a deep emerald sweater and paired it with jeans before adding booties and decided it worked.
Since it was windy outside, she pulled her hair into a sleek pony and hurried through makeup, focusing on her eyes and lips. No matter what, though, she couldn’t shake the thought that of all the time they’d spent together, they’d never really gone out in public. A business dinner hidden from view of the restaurant guests after the photo session didn’t count.
She’d just finished when a knock sounded on the camper door and sent her pulse racing. She put her feet in motion, pulling the little divider closed so whoever it was couldn’t see her pitiful selection of clothes scattered across the bed.
She unlocked the door and pushed it open to see Rhys standing on the other side.
“Sweet Sara,” he said in that husky tone, his gaze sweeping over her and heating her blood to boiling in an instant. “May I come in?”
She eyed his jeans and black button-down shirt beneath a sleek black leather coat, relaxing a bit at her clothing choice for the evening, and stepped back. “Um—there’s not a lot of room in here.”
He filled the tiny space and pulled the door closed behind him. The overhead light cast shadows over his dark hair and handsome face, and she watched as his gaze took in the kitchenette, dinette table and bench, and the bathroom. Her parents left colorful string lights up year-round, but there was little clutter otherwise.
Still, it was the perfect example of her life versus his. Another reminder of just how very different they were. The thought made her heart wither a little more. “Not quite the penthouse, huh?”
His gaze shifted from place to place, and she watched and waited, wondering at his thoughts when he remained quiet. After another moment, she began to squirm.
