Page 26 of His Christmas Wife

“Recommend another ten percent cut to overhead at the beginning of the year.”

“She can fuck off.”

“Message compiled.”

May not be his most strategic response. “Don’t send.”

“New message?”

“Tell her merry Christmas.” Which was his holiday version ofscrew you.The results he’d delivered so far had been stellar. Brigette was being greedy. Not that he could blame her. For two years, Christoff had hemorrhaged cash.

Once the rest of his messages had been handled, he instructed Jolly to call Ophelia, his grandmother.

“Ah! My favorite grandson.”

“Only grandson,” he corrected wryly.

“Semantics. Even if I had a dozen, you’d be my favorite.”

He grinned. Their worlds had fallen apart at the same time, yet Gran was there, solid and reassuring. Without her strength, he doubted he’d even have a shred of humanity left.

“I’m looking forward to meeting your…” She paused. “Wife.”

“And Kaylee asked me to let you know she’s anxious to see you on Christmas Eve.”

“That’s her name? Pretty.”

“You’ll like her.”

“I’m sure I will.”

He didn’t expect overt enthusiasm, and he didn’t get it. After all, Gran had picked out a woman for him—Milena. From his standpoint, there was nothing actually wrong with her. She was pretty enough, interesting enough. Although he’d taken her to dinner twice, she didn’t spark a fire inside him. That still hadn’t stopped Gran—or Milena—from expecting him to propose.

No matter who he brought to Christmas, Gran would likely be disappointed.

Still, he was counting on Kaylee’s friendliness and composure to win over his grandmother.

“Anyway, I’m late for brunch.”

Her social schedule was legendary. Meals. Tennis. Bunco. And somehow she managed it around all her volunteer work.

“I love you, Gran.”

“Just bring Kaylee to see me.”

The moment he ended the call, Jolly spoke.“Jennings has arrived.”

Early, which was appreciated since Frost was having a sudden, impetuous idea.

As he headed for the exit, Frost shrugged into a blazer.

Though he usually opted for the private elevator that would whisk him straight to the lobby, he headed for the stairs and took them to the parking garage. Twenty-five flights was a lot, but the energy churning inside him demanded an outlet. “Exiting,” he informed Jolly so she could adjust the temperature settings and lock the doors.

He’d moved in only a year ago, at the urging of Bonds. His friend, Kennedy Aldrich, had built the property with all of Bonds techno sorcery included, and Hawkeye handled all the security. Though he didn’t worry about that, a couple of Hollywood stars and a foreign prince had suites in the building. But because he was friends with Bonds, Frost had secured one of the few penthouses. His was a two-story unit with a rooftop garden.

When he reached the garage, his heart rate was up but not significantly.

“Morning, sir.” Jennings doffed his hat.

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