Page 9 of Romanced By the Silver Fox

Genie swallows hard. “And after that?”

“After that, if you don’t agree that there’s still something here, walk away. No harm, no foul, no strings attached.”

“And the job?”

“The job is yours,” I admit, “regardless of what happens between us. Name your price.”

Marin will be annoyed with me for handing over a blank check, but I see no reason to play games. Genie is the candidate we want. Everyone agreed on that before I invited her to Portland.

She’s quiet as she contemplates my words, which makes me anxious. My first instinct is to keep pushing. Desperation makes me want to offer more reasons, to push until she gives in. To persuade her with the force of my will. Experience, though, tells me to hold my peace. I’ve laid out the choice, and the ball is in her court. Pushing will make her balk at taking this seriously.

So I wait.

“Let me get this straight. You want three days to — to woo me?” she asks. “And no matter what I decide about the personal side of our relationship, I get the job.”

I nod. She looks at me in that searching way of hers, like she’s trying to figure out what’s the catch. Ironic, really. There’s never been a catch with her. I always wanted Genie too much to hold back. Always needed to prove myself worthy of her. Getting a second chance to do that is everything to me.

“Only if you do something for me first.” Her words are soft but clear.

“Name it.”

“Kiss me.”

CHAPTER5

GENIE

For a second,Grant looks shocked. Good. Turnabout is fair play, and he’s had me on the ropes since I got here.

“When would you like me to kiss you? Right now?” he tries to sound nonchalant. He almost manages it.

But I know him better than anyone, or at least I did. And I can tell he’s not quite as confident as he seems. Somehow, that makes me want him more.

“Not here in this restaurant. I can think of a better place than that.”

He swallows hard at the implication. I’m holding back a cocky smile, but only just.

We finish our desserts, although I don’t think either of us tastes a thing. Grant whisks me out of the restaurant, tossing a hurried “Charge it to my room, please” at our server. I am gob smacked. I have literally never heard anyone say that in real life before.

In the elevator up to my room, every part of Grant’s body is tense. He’s poised for action as if I asked him to do a base jump, instead of something as simple — and as complicated — as a kiss.

We reach the room, and I turn to him.

“You remembered.” I gesture at the discreet signage. “Mom’s lucky number.”

“I remember everything,” he says, and my heart leaps in my chest. “Everything about you, everything about us. It was all I had to hold on to after…”

He winces, like he hadn’t quite meant to say that much. I get it. If we could make our way back to each other after all this time, it would be a Christmas miracle. Although right now, it feels more like a sugar-induced fantasy.

“May I?” Grant holds out his hand for my key card. Surely, he’s got to be joking. But when I scan his face, he is absolutely serious. I pass it over with a smile. If he wants to try on chivalry for size, I won’t argue with him.

He unlocks the door and opens it, waits for me to go through. As I pass by him, he takes a deep breath and smiles broadly.

“I love that you still wear that scent.”

The warmth in his eyes makes me blush. On our first Christmas together, Grant had given me this perfume with a note saying, “a beautiful gift for the most beautiful woman I know.” After our engagement ended, I kept the note tucked in the back of a drawer until it didn’t hurt to look at it anymore.

The room has been transformed since I left. All the Christmas decorations are still up, but the dishes and food have been swept away like they never were there. More of Grant’s doing, I’m sure. As was the car service that picked up my family and delivered them to the airport. All very thoughtful, very practical, and very Grant.

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