Page 42 of Christmas with Her Millionaire Boss

“The Empire State Building really is red and green. I’ve read about how they projected the colors, but I had no idea they would be so vivid. The building looks like a giant cement Christmas tree.”

“I’m not quite sure that’s the analogy the city was going for, but...”

“I love it. Thank you for bringing me here.”

Still trapped in his arms, she whirled around to face him. Up close, her smile knocked the wind out of him. He had to swallow before he could find his voice.

“I thought we agreed this afternoon that you could stop thanking me.”

“We did, but a place like this deserves a special thank-you.” She slipped her arms around his neck. “Makes sense now, why you wanted to have dinner. I’d have been disappointed if I’d learned... Are we the only people here?”

He was wondering when she’d notice. “No. There’s a waiter and a bartender on the other side of the room.”

“I don’t mean the staff. I mean dinner guests. The other tables are empty.”

“Are they, now?” He pretended to look over his shoulder. The Terrace only housed seven tables; the limited seating was part of how the place got its exclusive reputation. All seven tables were unoccupied.

“Well, what do you know. So they are empty,” he said before turning back to her. “Must be because I booked them.”

“You what?” Noelle’s expression was worth every cent he’d paid too. Her eyes widened, and her lips formed an O. She looked so charming; he had no choice but to press a kiss to her nose.

“You know how I like efficiency,” he told her. “Service is so much better when you don’t have to compete with other patrons for the server’s attention. Besides, I wanted to give you something special since you took me in these last few days.”

“I was under the impression flying me to New York was the something special,” she replied. “This is...”

Shaking her head, she slipped from his arms. “Do you do this sort of thing often? Buy out restaurants?”

James wasn’t sure of the right answer. Had he gone too far? The impulse had popped into his head when he’d read the internet article. Yes, it was over the top—this whole day was over the top—but he’d wanted to make it memorable.

Face it: he’d wanted to impress her. Because he liked her. And how else was he supposed to compete with a dead war hero who gave her the family she’d always dreamed of?

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” he replied. “If you want, I can tell the maître d’ to open the other tables...”

“No.” She shook her head again. “You went to a lot of trouble, and I’m sounding ungrateful. It’s just that you didn’t have to do all this. Any of this. I would have been perfectly happy having dinner with you at the Nutcracker.”

“I know. I told you, I wanted to do something special. To make you feel special. Because I kind of think you’re worth it. Hell, after kissing you, I know you’re worth it.”

He scuffed the ground with his foot. Stumbling for words wasn’t like him. But once again, she had him feeling and thinking uncharacteristically.

“Thank you,” Noelle replied. Unlike the other times, she spoke in a gentle, tender voice that hung in the air. “No one has ever put so much effort into trying to impress me. Ever. You’ve made me feel very special. I think you’re crazy. But you make me feel special.”

James smiled. So what if he was crazy? The satisfaction he was feeling right now far surpassed that of any deal or successful investment. “So does this mean you’ll stick around for dinner?”

“What do you think?” she replied.

Turning to the first table within reach, James pulled out a chair. “After you.”

CHAPTER NINE

“HERE’S WHAT I THINK.” It was an hour later, and the wine had loosened Noelle’s tongue. “I think that you’re not as antiholiday as you claim.”

“I’m not?”

“Nope.” Giving an extra pop to the p, she leaned forward across the table. Shadows cast by the flame in the hurricane lamp danced on the planes of James’s cheek, giving his handsome features a dark and mysterious vibe. She’d been thinking about this for a while, analyzing the clues he’d dropped. Tonight’s rooftop surprise sealed her theory. “I think you’re sentimental and I think you’re a romantic,” she told him.

He rolled his eyes. “Why? Because I bought out a restaurant? Hate to break it to you, honeybunch, but that doesn’t mean I’m romantic—it means I’m rich and trying to seduce you.”

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