A Billionaire for Christmas

I slip my small palm against his and his fingers wrap around my hand as I take the large step down. The heat between us travels through me instantly. Embarrassingly so.

I quickly retrieve my hand and hold the straps of my purse with both hands, taking a step back, my ass bumping against the truck.

In the confines of the truck, I thought maybe this man was staff or a butler, I’m not sure who, but I didn’t expect Alec to be the one opening the truck door for me.

Standing on the edge of the long driveway, staring straight at him, I’m sure it’s him. His high cheekbones and the rough stubble along his jaw are just as they were in the photographs online. Alec Kulls. The pictures didn’t do him justice in the least.

“Mr. Kulls,” I finally get a grip and offer my hand out for a handshake. He takes a moment to look at it, leaving my hand dangling in the cold air before accepting it. And again, the instant he touches me, electricity rips through my body, making my thighs clench and my nipples pebble.

“Nice to meet you,” he says, and his low voice makes my heart stutter.

I don’t know what’s come over me. I rip my hand away again, trying to ignore the tingling prickle at the back of my neck. It’s not until Mr. Kulls shakes Brant’s hand and the two share a glance that I snap out of it.

“Her bags?” he asks Brant, and the trace of a smile on Alec’s lips falls when Brant shakes his head.

Mr. Kulls’ eyes narrow and Brant merely shrugs his shoulders, but there’s a smirk on Brant's lips that makes me think there’s something else between them.

“Thank you so much for having me and agreeing to this interview,” I say to Alec with more strength than I realized I had left. As my senses slip back into place, I turn to Brant. “Oh, and thank you so much for the ride,” I start to say while I dig for my wallet.

“Don’t you dare,” Alec says and the tone of his voice makes my blood chill. I hear the slap of two hands meeting and look up to see Brant palming folded up cash.

“My pleasure, Miss Travers.” The way Brant says my name seems to be in a mocking tone. But not to me, its focus is on Alec.

“Thank you,” I mutter in a small voice, feeling as if there’s a joke I’m not aware of, yet somehow a part of.

I watch Brant walk around to the other side of the truck before taking a glance at Alec. “Thank you, I could have paid-”

“Not a problem at all,” he cuts me off and when his eyes reach mine again, the corners of his lips seem to tug up slightly.

“Why don’t you come in?” The way the words fall from Alec’s lips is tempting and seductive in a way I hadn’t expected. It’s not that he’s flirtatious in the least… it’s something else.

I take a few steps, following him, my eyes taking in the details of his tailored and clearly expensive suit until he peeks over his shoulder. I feel the heat of a blush rise up my cheeks as he smirks at me, clearly catching me in the act. I part my lips to utter an apology or explanation, but all sense of professionalism seems to have left me. Luckily I’m saved by Mr. Kulls as he opens his door and says, “Let’s get this interview started.”Chapter ThreeLila“I trust you had a sound flight and travels?” Mr. Kulls asks me as he closes the tall front door. Like the rest of the house, it has history; the dark rich walnut was obviously carved by hand.

“I did,” I answer politely. “Thank you for asking.” I try to remain professional as I take in the the estate. The high ceilings and intricate architecture are magnificent. “And again, thank you for the interview, Mr. Kulls.”

“Alec, please,” he says, reaching his hand out, and it takes me a moment to realize he’s asking for my coat. I’m quick to respond, moving my purse to the floor so I can shrug off the jacket. The cool draft stays with me for a moment, but the home itself is warm and instantly replaces the cold.

“Thank you… Alec,” I add his first name, feeling the shy blush creep back onto my cheeks. This is quickly becoming unlike any interview I’ve done before. And I’m well aware it’s because I’m attracted to Alec. I have to remind myself that I’m working. That this is a job and I’m a professional, for fuck’s sake.

He gives me a small smile that slowly widens as he hangs my coat on an iron rack to the left of the grand foyer. As if he can’t contain his mirth, maybe because he senses the attraction, or maybe because I’m obviously flustered. I’m not sure which.