Christmas with the Billionaire

“I love this time of year,” she said.

“I thought you said you were a foster kid.”

“I was.”

He shrugged. “Most people I know who’ve been in the system hate the holidays. Too much trauma.”

“Not me. I have an excellent imagination. It kept me sane. Christmas is a comforting time for me even if I spend it alone. I just need the cable holiday specials and Burt.”

He stopped briefly, turning to face her. “Burt? I thought you were single.”

She smiled, liking the possessive tone in his voice. “He’s my cat.”

Adam tilted his head slightly, a cute smile on his face. “He sounds hard to compete with.”

“We’ll have to see if he likes you.”

As soon as she spoke, she wanted to bite her tongue. She was acting like they were dating, but this was just an art consult. He probably thought she sounded like a desperado. The man had a supermodel back at the party waiting for him.

They arrived at the condo sooner than she expected. Her feet didn’t even hurt. She looked way up. It was a massive skyscraper.

“Impressive, isn’t it? I like the modern architecture,” he said.

“It’s something else.”

As they entered the massive main entrance, she couldn’t stop admiring all the high-end décor. It really was a modern-day marvel. Any unit in this building must cost a small fortune. Her apartment was a joke compared to this place.

Everyone knew her boss by name as they walked toward the elevators. There was a lot of staff and security for a lobby. The inside of the elevator was all mirrors with a digital display she’d never seen before. When he hit the penthouse floor, she did a double take. How much money did Nelson Industries make?

When he opened the double doors to his suite, the first thing she noted was the overwhelming presence of white. It felt like she’d walked into a hospital operating room, not a home. There was nothing on the walls and only sparse furniture. Her heels echoed as she walked into the foyer.

“Come on in.” He took his jacket back and set it on the coat tree in the corner. “Make yourself at home.”

She slipped off her shoes and entered the large, open-concept condo. The far wall was floor-to-ceiling windows looking down at the city lights.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been this high up. I don’t know if I should be afraid or in awe.”

He walked past her. “You can be both.” Then he opened the lid of a crystal decanter at his elaborate, fully stocked bar. “Drink?”

“Sure. Thank you.” She heard the ice clinking into the glasses as she dared to get closer to the windows. “Did you want to be this high up?”

“It’s the penthouse. I like the best of everything.”

Then he certainly wouldn’t want her. She wasn’t exactly arm candy. Alora mentally shrugged. The least she could do was enjoy her evening and get some bonus points from her boss for helping him decorate his condo.

“You know what this place needs?”

“What’s that?” he asked.

“Christmas decorations. Warmth. A soul.”

“Those all sound idealistic but, if you haven’t noticed, there’s no big, happy family here. It’s just me, and I’m not even sure I have a soul myself. That’s too much pressure to put on my suite.”

“Everyone has a soul.”

“I think God gave up on me many years ago, Alora. Everything you see around you is from my own hard work, not blessings from above.”

He sounded so jaded for a man rolling in money and status. She would have thought he’d be more grateful, but she noticed most of her wealthier clients were self-centered. Maybe Adam Nelson was no different.

He came over and handed her a drink. There was a leather sectional, so she took a seat and sipped on the liquor. It was strong. He sat across from her in a matching reclining chair. The way he looked at her was unnerving. She felt like an art piece he was contemplating purchasing.

“Your guests will wonder where you’ve gone,” she said to break the awkward silence.

“I’d rather be here with you.”

He confused her. She didn’t want to make assumptions about his intentions one way or another. “Mr. Nelson, why am I here exactly?”

“Did you just call me Mr. Nelson? Please, just Adam,” he said.

“This is more than getting art advice, isn’t it?”

“Guilty.”

She exhaled, leaning over to set her drink on the coffee table. “I’m not a whore. I don’t have one-night stands to climb up the ladder of success like most of the women in your building. If I’m being perfectly honest here, I’m still a virgin, and plan on keeping it that way.”

****

He had to hide his smile and the chuckle dying to break free. She was so fucking cute. Did she actually think he’d brought her over just to have his way with her? Of course, he wouldn’t have refused her if she wanted to get kinky, but he certainly wasn’t expecting it. If anything, he wanted to get a view of first base, to subtly express his interest in her. He really liked her and not because he wanted to show off or make men drool. Adam wanted her for himself.