Page 50 of The Duke Who Saved Christmas
God, I needed this to stop.
Being this attracted to Thomas—feeling likethiswith him this close—was not what I needed in my life right now.
Not now, not ever.
“Fine,” I snapped, taking hold of the passenger door. I dumped my handbag in the footwell and put one foot in the car, then turned back to him.
And karate chopped his arm, right on the inner crease of his elbow.
“Motherfu—”
I slammed the door before he could finish his curse and sat back in the plush leather seat, feeling quite proud of myself for that.
Was it childish? Yes.
Was it petty? Absolutely.
Did I care?
Not at fucking all.
CHAPTER ELEVEN – THOMAS
Mother of fucking God, that hurt.
I’d never been karate chopped on the inside of my elbow before, but I supposed there was a first time for everything.
If I was being honest, I really hoped it would be theonlytime I ever experienced such a thing.
It was surprisingly painful.
“You can wipe that smug smile off your face,” I told Sylvie as I pulled out of the parking spot. “You got me, I’ll give you that, but it won’t happen again.”
“I should hope you’d be smart enough to not corner me again like that.”
“What are you? A cat?”
“If the shoe fits, I will scratch.”
“Or karate chop,” I added.
“Or karate chop.” She clasped her hands in her lap and looked out of the window, a sign I took to be the end of the conversation.
I left it there like she wanted and simply drove her back to her grandparents’ house. I was glad I’d insisted upon taking her home—the temperature on the screen on the car was dropping rapidly, and it was now reading at below freezing.
Only an eskimo would walk home in this kind of weather.
Melted snow had iced over and formed puddles, and the slushy stuff that was left over from the first snowfall was freezing over as we drove. The last thing anyone needed was Sylvie walking home by herself in the dark, missing the ice, and going arse over tit in the middle of the road.
Especially since her grandparents’ house was on a dark and secluded country lane.
I pulled onto that very lane, navigated the icy corners, and turned onto the steep driveway that led to the house. I pulled up alongside it, put on the handbrake, and looked over at Sylvie.
She dipped her chin before peering up at me through her lashes. Her face was illuminated by the dancing flickers from the Christmas lights outside, and for a moment, I was struck by just how damn beautiful she was.
Her dark ginger hair was hidden under a pink beanie, but little wisps of it waved down her cheeks. They were still a little flushed from the cold, despite the heater in the car, and there was a shine in her pretty blue eyes that was either grateful or foreshadowing my death.
It really was a toss-up.
