Page 2 of His Christmas Wife

“I have a ride coming.” And she definitely didn’t want Frost to know she was going to their BDSM club.

The compartment’s doors opened, and he turned up a palm, inviting her to precede him inside.

“I forgot something in my office.” The lie fell from her lips as easily as it did desperately.

“Ah.”

As she pressed the UP button, he nodded. “I see.”

“Good night, Mr. Frost.”

“Remain in the lobby until your vehicle arrives.”

Her late hours had never bothered him before. At least to his credit, one of his first acts after taking over as CEO was to instruct security to ensure people made it to their cars safely if it was dark outside. And she was able to park nearby on the days she drove herself.

Once she was safely back upstairs, she collapsed into the chair behind her desk.

Her shoulders still tingled from the memory of his touch, and her breath rushed out in frantic bursts.

What the heck had happened on the fourteenth floor? And more, why had her nemesis impacted her so profoundly?

Until now, their exchanges had been limited to work-related themes, so much so that it didn’t occur to her to wonder what he did after hours. And she’d certainly never considered him to be anything other than an overbearing tyrant.

When her fingers stopped trembling and she was able to shake off the aftereffects of the unwelcome exchange, she forced herself to refocus.

Running into Frost and coming back upstairs cost her time she didn’t really have. Mistress Aviana, the club’s owner, had requested that Kaylee arrive no later than ten thirty. At this rate, she’d be lucky to get there by eleven.

With a sigh, she picked up her phone to continue summoning a ride.

Eventually, praying Frost had left the premises, she returned to the bank of elevators. Hyperaware of every sound, she paced. The bosshole would never again catch her off guard.

A few minutes later, her vehicle arrived, and soon the sedan threaded its way through the preholiday revelers spilling from bars and into the French Quarter’s streets.

Because the journey had been so slow and harrowing, she doubled the driver’s usual tip.

Clutching her bag and purse against her body, Kaylee hurried to a nondescript green door and pressed a bell. After saying her name, she looked into the camera.

Seconds later, a soft click indicated the lock had been released. The moment she slipped inside, a loud, techno version of “Joy to the World” reverberated off the walls.

Definitely not an ordinary party.

For the first time all day, she exhaled, then, feeling decidedly more festive, she climbed onto the first step. In honor of the season, twinkling lights and garland were wrapped around the staircase banister and spindles.

When she reached the check-in area, Trinity, the receptionist, smiled and slid a pen and paper in her direction.

At that moment, her friend Maddie walked over, carrying drinks with lidded cups.

“We appreciate you doing this,” Trinity told Kaylee. “Master Evan is waiting for you at the coat check.”

What?Her thoughts plowed into one another, and she froze. It couldn’t be. But a program on the table listed Evan Frost as Santa.

Could the floor please open up and swallow her? “Master Evan?” The question emerged as a squeak, rather than in her usual no-nonsense tone.

“Yes. He’s filling in tonight because of an unexpected emergency.” Trinity tipped her head to the side. “Is that a problem?”

On every level.How had this happened? And worse, did he know? “He’s my boss.”

“I’m sorry.” Trinity sighed. “I had no idea.”

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