Page 80 of Bragg's Christmas

“What are you doing?” I hiss at him when he locks the door. “Your entire family is going to think we’re in here having hanky panky.”

“Having hanky panky? When we fool around, Angel, it’s not hanky panky, it’s hot and sexy.”

True, but I’m not giving him the satisfaction of agreeing with him.

“We don’t fool around anymore, remember? It was a one-time thing.”

He stalks toward me and I retreat until my back hits the changing station. “I never agreed to us being a one-time thing.”

“Damon.”

“Love.”

I tremble at the sound of my name in his growly voice. No one calls me Love. It’s always Love Hill or homewrecker or – the top of my least favorite list – babe.

“You’re my boss. We can’t be messing around.”

He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “But it’s fun.”

It most certainly is. But I’m done doing whatever I want and not thinking about the consequences.

He palms my cheek and I use every ounce of willpower I have to stop myself from leaning into his hand. “Come to the wedding with me tomorrow.”

“I’m going to the wedding. Duh. I’m Skye’s nanny.”

He scowls. “Not as Skye’s nanny. As my date.”

My brow wrinkles. “We discussed this. I’m not dating material. I don’t have any morals, remember?”

“I already admitted I was wrong, Love. Do you need me to apologize again? Because I will.”

“The Angel of Death was wrong?” I feign a shiver. “Scary.”

“You’re coming tomorrow as my date.”

My body heats at the growl in his voice. But no one is ordering me around. Not anymore.

“Excuse me? You can’t order me around. I’m your employee. Not your servant.”

“Never said you were.”

Which is why he just ordered me to come as his date tomorrow. I raise an eyebrow.

He clears his throat. “Love Hill, would you please accompany me as my date to my mom’s wedding tomorrow?”

“Maybe I don’t want to date you.”

His eyes flare with heat. “I have one night that proves you’re wrong.”

“It was just sex.”

“Angel, I know you don’t sleep around with men anymore.”

“Everyone can slip up once.”

He comes closer until I can feel his breath on my skin and his warmth surrounding me. His musky scent filling my lungs. My knees nearly buckle with the force of the desire pouring through my veins.

The things this man can make me feel. It’s dangerous. Another reason to say no.

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