Page 24 of She's A Hot Christmas Mess

A comment that should never have been heard, but it fell in one of those lulls of conversation that everyone in the vicinity was privy to.

“What?” The girl stared at me, clutching the stems of both champagne glasses so hard I thought they’d snap.

I don’t have time for you.

“Excuse me,” I murmured, flashing a sympathetic smile at the large man who offered me a drink.

He seemed surprised to be addressed at all and shot me a blindingly white, winning smile. “Merry Christmas,” he offered.

I murmured something similar, turning my back on the odd couple in a bid to locate Ford before I lost him again for the night, but a sharp gasp pulled me back.

“Didhedo this?” the girl cried dramatically. “He threatened me in the lift, too, you know.”

I blinked, making the mistake of turning back. “Ford hasn’t touched me.”

Her cruel smile struck me at heart level. “Oh, that’s right. The dates were a bet.”

“What?” I swallowed, backing up a step. “I have to go.”

“You’re right, Cinderella, it’s midnight and the ball is over. So is your time with him.” She raised an eyebrow. “Poor local girl thought she could play with the big man.”

I closed my eyes. “You know, I always hated uppity bitches like you at school.” Breathing out, I heard her huff and by the time I opened my eyes, I stood alone, though several of the other wedding guests stared openly.

After the little scene the girl I suspected was Ford’s ex just created, I didn’t blame them.

My dress was too exposing and too tight all at once. I pushed through the crowd that seemed never ending, seeking Ford, a door, an exit...anything.I found a gap and shot through it, managing to slip around a waiter carrying a tray of champagne flutes and dodging a woman supporting a drunk man–one of the groomsmen, maybe?—I didn’t pause to look. The door was there, and I disappeared into the open air, gasping like a fish out of water.

Four people huddled in a small group chattering watched me like I was a time bomb about to explode.

“Are you okay?” one of the men asked, stepping forward.

I spied the lift with its open doors, and raised a hand. “No, thank you. Hold the lift!” I called, taking off on the sky high heels my feet were so not used to wearing.

The figure turned in the lift as I skittered inside, and I found myself the sole recipient of a hard, blue gaze no longer twinkling like morning sunlight on fresh snow.

Ford.

“I see you’ve met Jess,” he said, swiping a hand through his already unruly hair. His lips formed a tight line, but my gaze drifted to his rumpled shirt and open bow tie.

“Did you get claustrophobic?” I asked softly.

“When she launched herself at me?” He barked a harsh laugh. “Yeah, you could say I got upset. Couldn't get her claws out of me. As per fucking usual.”

I nodded, playing with the beads on my purse. “I’m out of my league with this high society stuff, Ford. I’m just a girl in an elf suit who loves Chrismtas and the city she lives in. I don’t do...catfights, or whatever the hell this is devolving into.” My voice stayed quiet and clear, and I was damn proud of myself.

“It is highschool level bullshit,” he agreed, and sighed, holding out a hand. “Tell me I can still convince you to stay with me.” His voice turned husky. “Tonight isn’t a night I want to be alone. Her touch...” He shuddered.

That’s a terrible reason to stay.

Heedless of my brain, I placed my hand in his and the moment his fingers curled around mine, he tugged me a little closer, his eyes darkening.

“Stay, Nisha,” he whispered.

A shiver rippled over my skin and I wrapped my arms around myself. “This is a really bad idea.”

“You don’t want me?” He tilted his head to one side.

“You have way too much confidence, Mister Millham,” I said tartly, pulling my hand free and tapping his chest. A very hard, muscular, and swoon worthy chest.

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