Page 59 of Christmas with the Denton Billionaires

Ts….ts….nngh. Ngh.

She paused midstride, her entire body going rigid as she struggled to identify the strange noise. What the actual hell?

Nnngh….fff.

She whipped around, trying to determine where it was even coming from. At night, the penthouse had a sepulchral air, completely cut off from the outside world save for the stunning view of the city. It wasn’t like most rooms in a hotel, where you could hear the showers of your neighbor or the hurried footsteps of children above or below your room.

In here, sound didn’t seem to enter or escape. Which made this even stranger.

Jules tried to follow the noise, and it led her toward Mitch’s side of the penthouse. She poked her head down the hallway to his bedroom, and the noises grew louder. Now there was huffing. Definite huffing. Light spilled out of an open doorway farther down, and she crept toward it.

She poked her head into the doorway, squinting as her eyes adjusted to the bright light filling the room. She stared directly into a floor-to-ceiling mirror stretching across the opposite wall.

And there was Mitch. Bent into a very awkward triangle pose.

Shirtless. Sweaty. And impossibly muscled.

Their gazes met in the reflection of the mirror, and shock crested his face. A second later, he tumbled out of his pose, landing on his ass.Hard.

She put a hand over her mouth to stifle the giggles. “Are you okay?”

Mitch sat up, draping his arm over a bent knee. He rubbed his face before dropping onto his back and groaning.

“I’m fine. Believe it or not.”

“Were you doingyoga?”

A helpless laugh escaped him. “I was.”

Damn. There was something endearing about this perfect, rich hottie whoalsodid yoga in his private gym—and sometimes failed at a pose. She bit her lip, trying to rein in her mind before she fell into the abyss of hopeless attraction. “I’m sorry for butting in. I didn’t mean to interrupt or make you fall over. I just—I heard some noises, and I wasn’t sure…”

More laughter shook out of him. “Oh god. I can only imagine what you were probably thinking.”

That it sounded like you were masturbating?Heat scorched through her cheeks, and she tried to push the thought away. That probably was not what he was getting at. Still, now that her mind had gone there, it was nearly impossible to reel it back in.

“No, no, I just…I was…” She had nothing available as an excuse or recovery. “I wanted to make sure everything was okay. You know, it could have been the neighbors…” Better to stop while she was ahead. Divert.Divert.“You looked good. Your form, I mean. The form of your body…like, the posture.” God, this was getting worse. More embarrassing by the second. “Like, your teacher would be proud, you know?”

Mitch propped up on his elbows and looked at her with a curious smirk. His abs popped out in hard ridges sitting like that, and she couldn’t rip her gaze off him. Not even if a bomb exploded in the kitchen.

“Do you do yoga?”

“Yeah. Sometimes.” She shrugged. “Mostly when there’s wine involved.”

He laughed again and pushed to standing. He grabbed a white towel on a nearby rack and ran it over the back of his neck as he approached her.

When he got close enough, she remembered that she was here. Like physically present in her just-woken-up glory. Mitch’s perfect form had been so distracting that she’d forgotten all about herself. Dressed in booty shorts and a skimpy tank top—one glance in the mirror confirmed the embarrassing reality. Her nipples had hardened into two obvious points beneath her shirt. She might as well just spread herself out now and ask him to mount her.

“Do you work out other than that?” he asked, tilting his head.

Now her cheeks were flaming; they had to be. She crossed her arms over her chest and affected the most casual stance she could muster. “Uh, yeah…well…I mean not really.” Her brain was officially dissolved. He stopped a few steps away from her, his hands on his hips, that little white towel dangling over his shoulders. God, this man was perfect. Absolutely perfect.

“That’s surprising.”

“I know, I know—a Manhattanite who doesn’t work out.”

“No, I mean, you have a killer figure. I thought you hit the gym all the time.”

She jerked her gaze to his in shock. He couldn’t be serious. “Wh—” She shook her head. “You’re kidding right?”

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