Page 34 of Christmas with Her Millionaire Boss

“It’s all right,” James said, holding up a hand. “My father isn’t the most lovable man himself.

“It’s all right,” he repeated. Noelle waited for the inevitable shrug to punctuate the sentence; she wasn’t disappointed.

James was wrong though. It wasn’t all right. The implication that he wasn’t lovable wasn’t right. Granted, she’d only known him a few days, but the man she was standing with right now seemed very lovable indeed.

She couldn’t help herself. Rising on tiptoe, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him into a hug. He stiffened, but only for a moment before sliding his arms around her waist.

“I think they’re both idiots,” Noelle whispered in his ear before laying her head on his shoulder. One of James’s hands slid up her back to tangle in her hair.

They fit together well, thought Noelle.

Scarily so.

* * *

“What was I supposed to do? I mean, the guy’s mother left him behind. On Christmas Eve, no less. I had to offer some kind of solace, didn’t I?”

The photograph on the nightstand smiled knowingly. Kevin always did know when she was overjustifying. He would listen patiently, and when she finished talking, cock his head and say, “Who you trying to convince, Noelle? Me or you?”

“Me,” she told the memory and flung herself face-first across the bed. Why else would she be in her bedroom talking to a picture?

Letting out a long breath, she splayed her fingers across her plaid duvet. The fresh air and snow had taken their toll. Fatigue spread through her body, causing her to sink deeper into the down filling. If she lay here long enough, she’d fall asleep.

James wouldn’t care. He was locked in his own room, having retreated there as soon as they returned home. His head was bothering him, he claimed.

Could be true. Embarrassed was more like it though. Who wouldn’t be when one of their new employees suddenly starts clinging to them in the middle of Main Street?

He’d hugged her back though. With warm, strong arms that made her feel safe all over. “Like the ones you used to give,” she told Kevin.

Except for the way she’d flooded with awareness.

There had been a moment, when James slid his arm around her shoulder, that she swore the awareness was mutual. Apparently not. If James had wanted her, she thought, tracing the threading on her comforter, he would have kissed her. He wouldn’t have retreated to his bedroom alone.

“Sorry,” she said to Kevin. “’S’not like I’m looking to move on or anything. It’s just I haven’t been kissed in a long time—by a man, your mom doesn’t count—and the idea is kind of nice.”

Especially if the kiss came from a man with a mouth as beautiful as James’s.

“You had a pretty mouth too, Kev,” she said. Everyone in town used to say his smile was brighter than a Christmas tree. Once, when they were in high school, he’d taken her skiing, and face-planted in the snow getting off the ski lift. His laughter could be heard all over the mountain. God, but she missed that laugh.

She missed him. The private jokes. The Friday Old-Time Movie Nights.

“None of this would be a problem if you were here.” She certainly wouldn’t be drawn to her boss-slash-houseguest.

But, as her eyelids started to close, it was damp cashmere teasing her cheek, not brushed flannel, and the memory of warm arms cradling her close. Kevin’s voice sounded in her ear. Who you trying to convince, Noelle? Me or you?

* * *

By all rights, James should have gone straight to bed, risen early and called a taxi to take him to the airport before Noelle was up for breakfast. Steps one and two went according to plan. Step three, on the other hand, had run into some difficulty. Instead of doing his preflight check, he was sitting on Noelle’s leather sofa downing coffee number two and staring at her mantel.

She’d hugged him.

Flirting, kissing, sexual aggression, those he could handle. If Noelle had thrown herself at him, he would have gladly reciprocated, and the two of them would be waking up in tangled sheets.

But a hug? Hugs were tender. Caring. They reached into vulnerable parts of you and offered compassion. How was he supposed to respond?

He’d hugged her back, that’s how. Hugged her and took the comfort she was offering.

And when she put her head on his shoulder, it was like all the air had suddenly rushed to his throat. He’d nearly choked on the fullness. The last time anyone had bothered to comfort him was...

He couldn’t remember. Certainly long before his mother left. God knows, she’d checked out on him long before that. His father even earlier. Was it any wonder he couldn’t take the moment further?

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