The Boss Who Stole Christmas: Reindeer Falls #1 by Aston Jana

Author:Aston, Jana
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Rutherford Press
Published: 2019-11-06T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 8

"Are you sure we're allowed to do this?"

"Trust me." Nick flashes a smile at me when I glance back at him over my shoulder. We're climbing the stairs of the Church of Our Lady. The staircase is a spiral, winding us higher and higher, the stone steps narrow. At first I thought Nick made me go ahead so he could check out my ass, but now I'm grateful because if I slip he'll have to catch me.

And just maybe, being caught by Nick Saint-Croix wouldn't be the worst thing in the world.

Finally we reach a landing and I stop, slightly out of breath and grateful I keep up at least a cursory relationship with my gym. Nick isn't winded in the slightest. Hot jackal.

"Through there," he says, guiding me through a stone doorway to a balcony. Spread before us is the Christmas market in all its magical delight. From here we have a bird’s-eye view of the red and white booths below, the entire area lit by white lights glowing and twinkling, people happily strolling as far as I can see.

"Oh, wow." I breathe in the sight, tucking the moment into my heart. "This is amazing!"

Beside me Nick is quiet while I gasp, oohing and ahhing over the view. I take a picture, then turn with the phone still in my hands, unsure if Nick is bored and wanting to head back down.

He doesn't look bored.

He looks captivated.

But he's not looking at the view, he's looking at me.

Looking at me like he wants to kiss me.

My breath catches as he moves in a step closer, the stone half-wall pressing into my back, his head tilted over mine like he's going to kiss me. Oh, my Santa, he's really going to kiss me.

The moment stretches on for what feels like an eternity, his head bent over mine, his lips inches away. My heart is pumping so hard and I'm flushed from the top of my head to the tips of my toes. He places a hand on the side of my face, his thumb brushing across my cheek and his fingers tilting my neck a fraction to the right.

My heart is threatening to beat out of my chest. He's kissing me, right? There's nothing else he could be doing. If I had an eyelash on my cheek he'd have brushed it away already. If he needed to tell me something he could have told it to me from two feet away. He's going to kiss me, I cannot possibly be misinterpreting what is happening.

And…

I want him to. I want him to kiss me.

Badly. Desperately. More than anything in the entire world. I need to know what kissing Nick Saint-Croix would feel like.

And this slow descent to my lips is driving me crazy. Crazy with want. Dizzy with suspense. Am I surprised by this development? By the simmering of sexual tension? Or have I always known it was here, weakly hidden behind my denial? Tucked behind hating him? The energy between us is driving me to the brink.

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