Page 40 of All I Want For Christmas Is You

“I’m sure it was intimidating.”

“It was, and not just because it was so competitive. New York is a whole other level of creativity.”

“How did you meet him?”

“He’d just moved into his first nice apartment, and he wanted ‘real’ art. He was what my daughter’s friends call a ‘finance bro,’ and he knew exactly what he wanted in life. Wall Street, big money, big life.”

“Was that the life you wanted?”

“Oh, God, no. I was an only child, so all I really wanted was a husband, a family… I wanted to make pancakes and go apple picking, and somewhere in all that, I’d be in my studio painting and selling my work. As the kids got older, I’d have showings.” She said it lightly as if it didn’t matter, but it did. It mattered so much. “I got to have the family and bake birthday cakes for my kids. The only thing I didn’t get to do was my art. But I can do it now.”

“You are. You’re doing it.” His belief in her was empowering.

She wondered if he knew the impact he had. “You know, your daughter told me women fall all over themselves to get to you.” She shifted onto her side so she could face him. “She thinks it’s because of your air of mystery.”

“But she’s wrong?”

“Oh, yeah. Now that I’ve come to know you, I can see the real reason.”

He rolled onto his side, too, making a show of sinking into the pillows and getting comfortable. “Go on.”

“It’s the wildfire in your eyes. Jessa thinks every woman wants to be the one the rich, mysterious man chooses, but I think they want to be the one who finally gets you to break down the walls and let the beast out.”

“Beast, huh?” He stuttered out a laugh. “I can guarantee that’s not what they’re seeing.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because you’re the one who lit the match.”

A flash fire tore across her skin, enflaming her. “Beau?”

“Yes.”

“If we had one night together…”

Don’t say it.

Just shut your mouth.

He brushed the hair out of her eyes.

“I wouldn’t want you to restrain yourself.” The words tumbled out.

His eyes flared. His cheeks turned scarlet. “What’re you saying, Margot?”

Her name in his mouth was the sexiest, most erotic thing she’d ever heard. Rugged, gravelly, it gave her flashes of their bodies grinding against each other, his big, calloused hands cupping her breasts, pushing them together as he sucked on her nipples. This nice, polite man would be unhinged in bed.

With me.

Only me.

“Nothing.” She flopped onto her back. “You’re leaving, and I couldn’t survive a hookup. Not after everything I’ve just gone through.”

Closing his eyes, he clenched his jaw. When he opened them, he said, “I’d never want to hurt you.”

“And it’s not because I’d feel used. It’s not like that.”

He remained on his side, hiked up on an elbow. “What’s it like then?”

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