Christmas Wishes: A Christmas Romance Anthology by Creative Anthologies & Various Authors

Author:Creative Anthologies & Various Authors [Anthologies , Creative]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-12-01T00:00:00+00:00

Damon has just nipped out to the bathroom, and my nosiness gets the better of me. I walk out onto the patio area that is covered in beautiful twinkling fairy lights. Snow is starting to fall again and the whole area looks like a magical winter wonderland. I’m not big on posh houses, but the gardens that surround these estates are something else. I can just imagine myself sitting out here in better weather, working on a book, or reading a book for pleasure.

“I’d like to know what your game is.”

I jump out of my skin and turn around to see Mr. Brewster standing a few feet behind me. No one is out here apart from us, and that makes me anxious.

“I don’t know what you mean. Damon and I are good friends. We enjoy each other’s company. That’s all there is to know.”

“No woman ever just hangs around for the company.”

“I don’t know what women you’re used to being around, Mr. Brewster, but I can assure you that I have no interest in what Damon is worth. I live comfortably, just the way I like it. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

I walk past the older man, but he catches my wrist tightly. I struggle to get free of him and that only tightens his grip more.

“I’ll be watching you. You’re not made for our world.”

“You’ve got that perfectly correct, Mr. Brewster. I’m not made for your world, nor would I like to be part of it. Now, take your hand off me.”

I pull my hand free, hitch my dress up, and walk quickly through the mansion.

“Ilythia,” I hear behind me. Without looking, I can’t be sure, but it sounds like Damon’s brother.

I keep on walking. Taking the steps quickly, I clip my heel and go over on my ankle, falling to the ground in a heap.

“Thia, what happened?”

Damon rushes to my aid and helps me up. I push him away from me, but the pain radiates through my ankle.

“I was away for all of five minutes. What the hell happened out there?” He points over his shoulder.

“Ask your father. I’m going home.”

“I’ll deal with my father after I’ve taken care of you.” He bends down and lifts me into his arms easily. As much as my stubborn streak is desperate to break free, I know I can’t walk anywhere with my sore ankle.

“Just take me home, Damon.”

I’m too tired to argue with him, because he’ll never give up until he gets what he wants.

Typical Brewster man.

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