Page 78 of Christmas with the Denton Billionaires

At least Noelle had recovered from her cold, which allayed some of the household stress.

Jules finally breezed down the hallway, dressed to kill in a long, shimmery black evening gown with teardrop pearls in her ears. Her hair was swept back in a fancy updo, prepared by a stylist Mitch had brought to the penthouse exclusively for her hair and makeup.

“Wow,” Mitch said, his heart thumping in his chest. He couldn’t pry his gaze off her if he wanted to.

She glanced at him through the mirror as she inspected her lipstick. “What?”

“You look…stunning.”

She pursed her lips into a little smile. “Thanks. You don’t look so bad yourself.”

Jules headed for the door, but he caught her by the waist. She stiffened at his touch—yet another new development of the past couple of days.

“The dress looks better than I could even imagine,” Mitch murmured, bringing her closer. She avoided his gaze. “But I’m really curious to see how good it’s going to look on the floor.”

Jules snorted. “Come on. We need to go.”

“One kiss.” He brushed his lips over the shell of her ear, and she melted a little against him.

“I can’t,” she protested weakly. But she tipped her head back to look at him finally, and confusion shone in her gaze.

“Why?”

She swallowed, searching his face. “Because it’ll mess up my lipstick.”

He heaved a sigh. “Fine. Later then, when we can mess it up all we want.”

She didn’t reply, just continued her walk toward the door. Mitch followed her, a frightening cocktail of emotions boiling inside him. Things were fine with Jules—or were they? Tonight would be amazing—or a dismal failure. He’d either be named the new CEO of Denton Hotels—or be presented with some dismal, embarrassing award for service.

There was so much buildup toward tonight that he could hardly put one foot in front of the other.

“Everything is going to be fine,” Jules said once they were in the elevator heading downstairs.

“I know.”

“You’re white as a ghost and grinding your teeth.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Yeah. Okay. So I’m a little nervous.”

“Same here. But one of us has to keep it together,” she mused, crossing her arms. “I guess it’ll be me.”

He cracked a grin, fake knocking her chin. “That’s why we work so well together.”

She stared at him for a moment, the smile slowly fading from her face. Finally she jerked her gaze away from him as the elevator hit the lobby, which only confirmed Mitch’s suspicions. Jules was unhappy about something, but he couldn’t figure out what.

Except now was not the time. Not with the doors sliding open and the immense sweep of the lobby greeting them, filled with people dressed to the nines. Before they even stepped out, a few people called his name, waving at him.

Whatever was bothering her would have to keep bothering her until after the gala.

As soon as they stepped out of the elevator, everything else melted away. The anxiety, the stress, the horrible sense of not knowing and wondering. He was in business mode, which meant he compartmentalized all the negative emotions until later.

Everyone who was anyone was here. Everyone in the Denton empire and their families, which was normal, but this year they’d opened up the guest list to include the media and industry bigwigs. Mitchell Senior had wanted to go big, so Mitch gave him what he asked for.

“Wow,” he breathed, squeezing Jules’s hand. “This looks better than I could have imagined.”

All her hard work was obvious, from the neatly arranged Christmas displays to the trendy Santa posing for pictures with his white man bun and aviator sunglasses. Surprise and excitement shone in the eyes of the guests. A banner hung above the Santa display, encouraging attendees to use the #MerryDentmas hashtag. When he glanced over at Jules, she was watching everything with bright eyes and a small smile on her face.

“You should be proud,” he whispered to her, wrapping his arm around her waist.

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