Page 84 of His Christmas Wife

Of course, she would consider all the implications of his Gran’s gesture. While he’d found it interesting, even bemusing, the offering had tugged at Kaylee’s heartstrings.

The security guard honked his horn, and Frost lifted a hand in acknowledgment, grabbing the tiara to move it to the floor of the passenger compartment. As he leaned forward, he caught a whiff of her perfume, innocence and seduction, igniting a potent reaction inside him.

As he stopped at the complex’s exit—aware of being watched the whole way—he had the presence of mind to punch a button on the car’s dash. “Jolly? Auto drive.”

Maybe there was something in his tone, but for once the computer engaged without argument.

“Destination?”

With the swirling cocktail of anger and frustration gnawing at him, he knew he’d never get to sleep. “Christoff Investments.”

“Acknowledged.”

Every part of his brain demanded action.

He couldn’t just let her walk away like this.

Once again, he pushed the button to interface with Jolly. “Call Kaylee.”

A fraction of a second later, the sound of a ringing phone filled the vehicle’s interior.

When voicemail picked up, he swore. “End.”

Because he had to do something, anything, he tried another two times before he arrived at the building.

Even as he entered the executive elevator to his offices, he thought of her and her chastisement about perks for executives.

She was right about that as well.

What could it hurt to reassign a handful of parking spots to exemplary employees? Hell, maybe he should even give up his own.

He tapped his watch. “Jolly, send a note to HR letting them know we’re implementing an employee of the month awards program. I want program guidelines drafted by the tenth of January.”

“Acknowledged. Shall I let Ms. Robbins know you liked her suggestion, and that I presume you’ll be reassigning some parking spots in lot A?”

“You’re only supposed to be listening if I give permission.”

Silence filled the compartment.

The elevator bell let out a loud ding, signaling he’d reached his floor.

“I’ll take that as a no then, Frosty.”

“Yeah.” Then he reconsidered his answer. “On second thought, yes. Send her an email. No. Wait. Belay that order.” Any reason to stay in touch. “Send her a text message.” Something she was sure to see immediately.

He entered the suite and turned on the light. The star on top of the tree was listing again, summing up his mood.

Then it hit him. He’d given everyone, including her, a full week off work.

Goddamn it.

Frost slammed the door.

An ornament that had been precariously perched on the end of a branch crashed to the floor.

After grabbing a gym bag from his office, he jogged down the stairs to the fitness center.

For the first time in his life, he was at a total loss.

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