The Billionaire Who Bought Christmas - Page 52

He paused to gaze into her eyes. They hovered there, frozen for a heartbeat.

“Kristy,” he breathed.

Then he pressed surely and swiftly into her, and her world turned to a kaleidoscope of sensations.

She brought her legs around his waist, and her arms around his neck, plastering her body against his, smelling his musk, tasting the salt of his skin, hearing the rasp of his labored breathing and feeling, oh, yes, feeling the slick heat of his body as he moved endlessly with hers on a plane above paradise.

He held her there. Held her, held her, held her until her body wanted to scream for mercy. Every nerve ending tingled. Every pore opened wide. Every ounce of hormone and passion her body possessed gathered and crested and hung suspended in space and time.

Then he cried her name again, and the dam burst free. Convulsions of color galloped through her mind over and over again.

Moments later, her muscles gave out. She all but melted into the mattress, Jack’s body a delicious weight pressing her into the soft oblivion.

“You okay?” came his hoarse voice.

“Yes.” She tried to nod, but something got lost in the message from her brain. She couldn’t move an inch.

“Seriously,” he said.

“Seriously,” she assured him.

He took a couple more deep, shuddering breaths. “I didn’t rememberthat, ” he rumbled.

“I remember something,” she said, her strength slowly returning. “But I didn’t remember a super nova and angels singing. Do you suppose we’re dead?”

He chuckled, his entire body shaking in reaction. “If this is dead, I can handle it.”

“Yeah. Me, too,” she sighed.

He shifted his weight from her, holding her securely in his arms. “But I hope it’s not.”

“I’d hate to miss London.”

They were both silent for a moment, and his fingertips toyed with a lock of her hair.

“How’s that going?” he asked.

Kristy felt a twinge of unease. “I really appreciate everything you’ve bought me. Really I do.”

“But…”

“It’s hard.”

They were both silent again, and she turned her head so that she could look at him. “It’s really hard.”

“Can I help?”

She shook her head. “You’ve done so much already.”

“I want to help,” he said.

“It’s nothing you can find or buy. It’s the clothes, the designs.” How could she explain?

“You don’t think they’re good enough?”

“I don’t know what to think.”

Jack wrapped her in a big hug. “It’s going to be okay.”

She could feel a tear at the corner of her eye. “What if it’s not? I’ve spent all your money—”

“You haven’t spent all my money. You couldn’t begin to spend all my money.”

He kissed her forehead. “It’ll be better in the morning.”

“How?” She’d still have two collections. She’d still be confused and pulled in opposite directions.

“I’m not sure.” He sounded a bit sad. “But it will be. It always is.”

Kristy wanted to argue, but there was no point. Despite Sinclair’s optimism, Kristy feared the clothes that made her happy would never sell. And the clothes that would sell would never make her happy.

At the end of another long sewing day, Kristy made her way from the workshop to the house. Lights lined the curving driveway, delineated the porch and the roof line, and dotted every tree and shrub within a hundred yards of the main staircase.

Snowflakes floated down from the dark sky, settling on the naked oak tree branches, blurring the points of colored light and adding to the magic of the front garden.

Suddenly, she saw Jack.

He’d been waiting for her, sitting on the steps in his beautiful black wool coat and black leather gloves.

“Hey,” she said, mustering some enthusiasm into her voice. She shouldn’t have confessed her fears last night. The last thing she wanted was for Jack to think she couldn’t pull off a collection for the contest.

“Hey, yourself,” he stood and trotted down the stairs to meet her.

His dark hair was perfectly combed, face freshly shaven. It wasn’t an unusual look for him, but she didn’t remember there being a Christmas event tonight.

“I have a surprise for you,” he said, taking her arm to guide her up the stairs.

Kristy resisted. “What kind of a surprise?”

“I need you to go upstairs and get dressed.”

“Are we going somewhere?”

“We’re staying in.”

“Just you and me?” If so, why did she need to dress up? They’d be naked pretty soon if the look in his eyes was anything to go by.

Tags: Barbara Dunlop Billionaire Romance
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