Page 68 of Christmas with the Denton Billionaires

She hummed as she drifted through the living room, headed for the little desk facing the floor-to-ceiling window. This was her work nook—she’d christened it as such on day one—and whenever this holiday reverie ended, she’d be extra sad to givethisaspect up.

Although now, there were a few more aspects she was hesitant to give up.

Mitch’s gravely moans in her ear being one of the major ones.

A shiver ran up her spine as she recalled their epic fuck-a-thon from the night before. What had started in the elevator—once the nanny was dismissed and the baby quietly asleep in her crib—progressed from living room to kitchen to workout room to Mitch’s bedroom.

And that dinner the night before? She’d never felt so doted on.

So she wanted to surprise him. Like a thank you gift, except nothing handwritten or involving a registry.

Jules planned on thanking him the only way she knew how—through cozy Christmas decorating and cooking.

Since she’d taken up residence in the penthouse, it wasn’t hard to use free moments gala planning to turn her attention toward the apartment. With Christmas days away, Mitch showed a startling lack of decoration. A place this big and amazing deserved to lookspectacular.And with so many resources at his disposal, Mitch had no excuse not to dive headfirst into the Christmas spirit.

So Jules did some investigating, made some calls to different assistants in the hotel, and got the gears in motion. First up: a real tree. Rose had mentioned there were extra trees left from the lobby displays that they’d yet to find homes for. Then? Ornaments of all shapes and sizes, the leftovers from the lobby decorations. Once the tree was up, dressed, and lit, the place still didn’t seem quite finished.

She arranged for any and all extra decorations and garland to be sent up in the service elevator as well. And sure, maybe her workday had beenprimarilyspent tracking down these decorations and finding appropriate places for all of them, but it was a worthwhile surprise, one that would pair very well with the chicken roasting in the oven alongside a full tray of vegetables.

Jules knew how to make a home even homier. And that was the best gift she could give to Mitch right now.

Noelle arrived home first in the arms of the nanny. Jules received the yawning, sleepy-eyed girl with a big grin. “How was she today?”

“A breeze, as usual, but I noticed she’s a bit sniffly. She might have a cold coming on.”

Jules thanked the nanny, heading to the couch to give Noelle her bottle and hum her a song. Once she’d been burped and her diaper changed, Noelle’s eyes drifted closed. Just as Jules was swaying her to sleep, the front door opened.

A moment later, Mitch came into the living room with wide eyes, looking around like he’d stepped into the wrong house altogether.

“What—”

“Shhh.” Jules grinned, jerking her chin toward Noelle. “She’s about to fall asleep.”

Mitch clamped his mouth shut, setting his briefcase on the couch before heading their way. Something warm shone in his eyes, and he didn’t take his gaze off her. Not for a second.

“What is all this?” he asked in a softer voice.

Her grin spread so wide her cheeks hurt. “What is what?”

“Don’t play coy. My penthouse looks like a magazine ad for Christmas itself.”

“Good. Then my work here is done.” She swayed away from him, flirtation bursting to life between them. He tilted his head, wetting his bottom lip as he looked her up and down.

“You’re cooking something.”

“Correct.” Now her ears hurt from smiling so hard. She hadn’t known it was possible.

“What are you making?”

“I have a sleepy baby to tend to,” she said, turning away from him slightly. “You’re just going to have to wait and find out.”

She sashayed away from him, feeling his questions and amusement burning in the air behind her. The walk to the bedroom had allowed Noelle to drift off to sleep, so Jules set the sleeping girl in her crib and came back to the living room. Mitch had removed his tie and undone the first few buttons of his shirt. He was pouring a tumbler of whisky just as she entered.

“Wow. So early?”

Mitch sighed, bringing the glass up to his lips. “Sometimes, I need something to mark the transition into the evening.”

“Sounds like you had a rough day.” She came up to him, overcome by the urge to care for him. To erase the stress showing in his face and the weariness that clung to him. She wrapped her arms around his waist and looked up at him, shocked by how natural the gesture felt.

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