Page 41 of Christmas with Her Millionaire Boss

“Shut up, James.” She didn’t need to hear any more.

Standing on tiptoes, she met him halfway.

* * *

Kissing was something James thought he had a handle on. He’d kissed dozens of women in his lifetime, so why would kissing Noelle be any different?

Only it was different. With other women, his kisses had stemmed from attraction. He’d kissed them to stoke his sexual desire—and theirs. But he’d never needed to kiss a woman. Never had a bone-deep ache to feel their mouths on his.

The second his lips met Noelle’s, a feeling he’d never felt before ballooned in his chest. Need times ten. It was the blasted hug all over again. Talking about his father and hope, she’d ripped open a hole inside him and now he couldn’t get enough, couldn’t get close enough.

Which was why he surprised himself by breaking the kiss first. Resting his head against her forehead, he cradled her face in his hands as they came down to earth.

“Wow,” Noelle whispered.

Wow indeed. Wow didn’t come close. “I think...” He inhaled deeply, to catch his breath. “I think we should get some dinner.”

Noelle looked up her lashes. Her brilliant blue eyes were blown black with desire. “Is that what you want?” she asked. “Dinner?”

No.

And yes.

Some things were meant to simmer. “We’ve got all night,” he said, fanning her cheek with his thumbs. The way her lips parted, he almost changed his mind, but inner strength prevailed. “Dinner first,” he said with a smile. “Then dessert.”

She nodded. Slowly. “All right. Dinner first.”

“Wow. That might be one of the first times this weekend that you haven’t disagreed with one of my suggestions.” Maybe miracles could happen.

“What can I say?” she replied. “I’m hungry. Although...” The smile on her face turned cheeky as she backed out of his embrace. “Since you decided to postpone dessert, I’m going to make you work for it.”

Her words went straight below his belt. Snagging a finger in the gap between her coat buttons, he tugged her back into his orbit. He leaned in, feeling incredibly wolfish as he growled in her ear. “Challenge accepted.”

* * *

As seemed to be the theme of the past few days, James was completely wrong about the restaurant. He made their reservation based on an internet article about New York’s top holiday-themed restaurants and wrote off the writer’s ebullience over the decor as a marketing spin. For once, though, spin matched reality.

“Oh. My.” Noelle gave a small gasp as they stepped inside. The place was completely done in white and gold to resemble an enchanted winter forest. Birch branches trimmed with tiny white lights formed a wall around the central dining room, making it look as though the tables were set up on the forest floor. There were Christmas ornaments and stockings strung about, as well as fluffy cottony-white snow on the window edges.

“Talk about a winter wonderland,” Noelle said.

Indeed. Silly as it was, he actually felt the need to hold her hand tighter, in case some woodland creature tried to whisk her away. This was what she’d call magical. “I’m glad you like it,” he said.

“Like it? It’s unreal.” She had her phone out and was snapping away at the various objects. Suddenly, she paused. “I’m not embarrassing you, am I?”

“Not at all.” She was enchanting. “Take as many photos as you want. We’ll be eating in a different room.”

She frowned, and James almost felt bad for disappointing her. Almost. “You mean we’re not eating in the forest?”

“Mr. Hammond requested a table on our crystal terrace,” the maître d’ informed her. He gestured to the elevator on the other side of the birch barricade. “Upstairs.”

“We’re eating on the roof,” Noelle said a few moments later. He smiled at her disbelief as she stated the obvious.

Actually a glass atrium, the famed Crystal Terrace was decorated similarly to downstairs, only instead of recessed lighting, patrons ate under the night sky.

“I figured since this was our only meal in the Big Apple you should eat it with a view of the skyline,” he told her. “By the way, this time you can see the Rockefeller Christmas tree. And the Empire State Building.”

“Amazing.”

Letting go of his hand, she moved toward the window while he and the maître d’ exchanged amused glances.

“I had a feeling you’d like the view,” James replied. He waited until the maître d’ had disappeared behind the elevator doors before joining her at the glass. Noelle stood like a child pressed to a window display with her hands clutching the brass guardrail. Her lower lip was caught between her teeth in wonder. James stood behind her and captured her between his arms, the same way he had on the observation deck. “As good as the Fryberg town tree?” he asked.

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