Page 33 of Craving Her Christmas Boss

‘We mate for life.’

All the blood left her brain. So did all the oxygen. Nearly catatonic, she whispered, ‘You don’t mean that.’

‘Don’t I? How do you know?’

He was doing that magic thing with his eyes again. Making them burn bright and mesmerising. She fought to stay sane. He was joking, wasn’t he? No way would they want the same kind of things—they were light years apart in experience and lifestyle.

She shook her head. ‘You move so fast, so decisively, so certain that everything issimple.’ She stared, wishing she could believe in the glow of his. ‘I need more time.’

‘For what? What exactly is it you need to know? My favourite colour is green, my star sign as Capricorn. Is that enough? Or do you need to spend some quality time with me—is that it? Becauseyouwere the one who said no to that,’ he growled. ‘I’d be with you every night if I could.’

Everynight.

‘Quality time?’

‘That’s right. Every long, slow, wonderful minute.’

As she stared into his eyes her heart decided to beat at half its usual tempo as desire seeped into her skin and her bones and all the stuff in between. She hardly heard him talking now.

‘Look at me, Imogen. Not my name or family or connections—just look atme.’ His expression darkened. ‘I thought you were different. I thought you weren’t impressed at all the nonsense that people think about my background. And you weren’t. You hate me for it, and you hate wanting me in spite of it.’ He towered over her. ‘You really think I’m like that guy? Am I worth the risk? You decide, and then let me know.’

Slowly she shook her head again. The only thing she was certain of was her uncertainty—and it made her deny herself and him. ‘You expect too much from me.’

‘And you don’t expect enough from me,’ he snapped, words flying, temper fraying. ‘Look, we are either on or we’re off. I’m not having any in-the-middle mess. I’ve got too much on my plate to be stewing over where I stand with you. If you want to know the truth, it’s damn inconvenient to have met you right now, and I don’t have the time to convince you. Here I am, thinking about how badly I want to get you naked instead of thinking about the store. You’re the biggest distraction I’ve ever had in my life. I finally agreed to work with my family, and I refuse to stuff it up because of you.’

So itwasjust sex. He wanted her naked—to be his stress relief, not the cause of stress.

She retaliated rashly, her anger breaking her ability to reason. ‘Fine. If I’m in the way, let me leave. I resign with immediate effect.’

‘Don’t be so childish.’ He lost the last grip on his temper too. ‘Didn’t I say this would never affect your career here? Well, it won’t. You don’t have to resign. I’ll stay well clear and never bother you again.’

NINE

Hadn’tshe gotwhat she wanted? He was not bothering her. Not even looking at her. Only commenting on work, and only when necessary. He closed his office door now—summoned Shona in when he needed her rather than coming out and chatting with his former relaxed style.

Every lunchtime she worked on the wrapping table, and for half an hour or more after her work day had ended. He never stopped by—no more ridiculous presents to verbally joust about. Instead, she chatted to the students on wrapping duty—got to know their names, what they were studying, what they wanted for Christmas.

What she wanted she couldn’t have—and it was her own fault. She was realising she was the biggest fool on the planet. Why couldn’t she just have taken whatever it was he had to offer? Why had she had to do the whole drama queen routine?

Because she was too scared. Too insecure. Too afraid of being hurt to follow through on a seasonal fling. And she’d held her defences, resisted him and rejected him.

So why was she hurting more now than when George had let her down? She’d been humiliated and used by him—yet she was more upset about the one little thing Ryan wasn’t doing.

She just wished he’d look at her again.

‘What are you doing for Christmas, Imogen?’ Shona’s smile was too kind, her eyes too astute.

Imogen’s brain battled her muscles and stopped the wince. Christmas was only a few days away now, and she buried the lonely reality of it down deep. ‘I’m having dinner with some other kiwi orphan friends.’ The lie was thin, but it came easily. ‘We’re having pavlova…a few drinks.’ Making up some details to make it more credible. She could be doing exactly that if she’d bothered to hook up with the one person from New Zealand she knew in Edinburgh. But she hadn’t.

‘I didn’t know you had kiwi friends here.’

‘A couple.’ Really just that one, who she hadn’t even emailed. She’d wanted a totally fresh start—wanted to forget her life in New Zealand—or the last few months of it at least.

She turned her head, catching something moving in the corner of her eye. Ryan was behind Shona, standing in his doorway, obviously listening in. His eyes were very bright, very blue. For a moment she was entranced as ever. Then she saw his frown—his eyes narrowing, brows lowering—and she knew he saw right through her. He didn’t believe her.

‘Well, if you’d like you could come to dinner at my place and have an authentic Scots Christmas.’

So Shona didn’t believe her either. This was painful now. They were both looking at her with…pity.

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