Page 90 of His Christmas Temptation

“Let’s go have a drink after Christmas and talk about him.”

Kaylee appreciated her friend’s suggestion. “I’m in.” No doubt she’d have plenty to talk about by then. She gave her first real smile of the evening. “Anyway, I need to meet up with the jerk so we can get Santa’s bag ready.” With a quick wave, she headed down the hallway.

Around her, the vendor fair was closing, and dungeon monitors issued orders that walkways needed to be cleared.

Prompt and impatient as always, Frost waited for her.

Near him, she was even more keenly aware of their size difference. At work, she wore sensible heels and slim-fitting skirts or tailored slacks—maybe as some sort of armor. Right now, she felt slightly vulnerable.

“Come with me.”

Curious, she followed him into the dungeon and behind a black screen. A row of seats were arranged in a straight line, and Mistress Aviana’s throne was elevated on a dais. Nearby, in an open area near a towering tree, loomed a plush, velvet-covered armchair. No doubt that was intended for Santa.

Within moments, a volunteer brought over the massive sack and placed it where Frost could easily reach inside.

“Do you want to watch what happens next from the dungeon?”

Near his half-naked body? And risk being jostled into him by the sheer number of people in attendance? “I saw a television monitor in the vendor area. I’ll watch from there.” Away from the Saint Andrew’s crosses and spanking benches.

“Of course.” His voice held a slightly mocking tone, as if he was challenging her assertion that she wasn’t afraid of him.

Refusing to be goaded, she walked away. Not surprisingly, he followed her.

In the time they’d been gone, the area had emptied out. Even the check-in desk appeared to have been shut down.

Moments later, the lights flickered three times, then dimmed. Midsong, the music abruptly stopped, and the club thundered with an expectant silence.

Despite herself, she looked at Frost, and he shook his head. “I don’t know anything more than you do.”

Maybe she should have watched from inside the dungeon.

Noise behind them caught Kaylee’s attention, and she glanced over her shoulder to see a sleigh being pulled into the area.

For Santa?

On the wall, the monitor blinked to life just as the startling sound of a trumpet blast reverberated from a nearby speaker.

A camera focused on the balcony that was halfway between the second-floor private rooms and the dungeon. Almost instantly, a crier appeared, wearing garb that could have come from medieval times.

“Hear ye; hear ye!” After a short, dramatic pause, he continued. “Tonight, we present to you the royal court.” With a great dramatic flair, he extended his arm and pointed to the top of the stairs.

Wearing a cloak, Trinity descended, stopping to curtsy and wave from the landing.

Aviana’s Dungeon Master, Tore, was next. The man was massive, straining the seams of his black vest.

Just then, having finished her descent of the staircase, Trinity pushed through the door to join Kaylee and Frost and to line up for the parade.

“That was something,” Frost observed.

Trinity grinned. “Milady does enjoy a spectacle.”

With every event, she continued to raise the bar. Rumor had it, she consulted with a Hollywood producer to brainstorm her ideas. From what Kaylee had seen so far, she believed it.

On the small screen, Master Mason and Hannah, his very pregnant wife, descended. Earlier in the year, the Dominant had made a significant donation to Aviana’s favorite charity—by way of the slave auction where he won a weekend with Hannah, who was now his bride. So it didn’t surprise Kaylee that they were part of the royal entourage.

As the chief dungeon master joined Trinity, billionaire hotel magnate Rafe Sterling and his fiancée, Hope Malloy, were announced.

Kaylee tried to tear her gaze away from the monitor so she could chat with the new arrivals, but what appeared next riveted her attention.

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