My Christmas Billionaire (The Billionaire Kings Book 7) by Serenity Woods

Author:Serenity Woods [Woods, Serenity]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-12-13T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

Jules

When I awake, I check my phone and groan to see it’s only four-thirty. Holy heck, is it going to be like this until I get home? My head’s a little fuzzy, which is no real surprise when I think about all the cocktails I imbibed last night. That’s Noah’s fault. He plied us all with alcohol, and it’s so hard to say no when the drinks keep magically topping up like something out of the movie The Bishop’s Wife.

At least I had the sense last night to take a bottle of water to bed with me. I roll over and drink half of it, then flop back onto the pillows.

Outside, it’s dark and quiet. It’s still snowing heavily, too. I sit up, pull the duvet around my shoulders, and look out at the view. There’s been no sign of the Northern Lights yet, but then it’s hardly stopped snowing. I hope we’ll get to see them before we go home.

The forest opposite looks forbidding and black. The lamps cast a neat circle of golden light that doesn’t make inroads into the trees that stand shoulder to shoulder. Are there bears here? Wolves? Stefan and Hal would know.

I wonder what time Stefan came back. Even though I was upset, I fell asleep quickly, and didn’t see or hear him return. What kind of mood was he in? He’d looked distraught that he’d upset me, but maybe now he’s had time to think about it, he’s irritated, or even worse, angry.

My emotions are all mixed up. I’m furious with him because of what he said. I’m tired of him hurting my feelings. But I’m also upset because he obviously realized he’d gone too far, and he’s probably the most honorable guy I know, and he’s going to be horrified. I groan and cover my face with a pillow. I wish I could wave a wand and make everything all right, but I don’t think there’s enough Christmas magic in the world to sort this out.

On the table beside the bed, my phone pings.

I lift the pillow and glance at it. Someone from New Zealand, no doubt, one of my friends checking on whether I’m enjoying myself. I lift the phone listlessly, then stare. It’s a text from Stefan.

It says: You awake?

I lie back, my pulse picking up speed. He’s obviously awoken early, too, and knows it’s possible I might be up.

Do I want to talk to him now? I feel foggy from alcohol and sleep, and I’m hardly looking my best. I’m still angry and resentful, and I don’t want to say something I’ll regret.

But equally, I hate this atmosphere between us, and I want to make it right.

Yes, I text back. Just one word, to test the water.

Can I come around? he asks. We need to talk.

I sit up. I’m still in my pjs, I reply.

It takes a minute or two for him to reply. When it comes, it’s a long text, so it obviously took him some time to type.

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