His hand squeezed mine, and he laughed. “Okay.” He paused as if searching for the best way to explain. “When things are broken, I fix them.”
My mind whirred, trying to figure him out. “Are you in the Mafia? Is that what fixing means?”
He laughed. “I don’t rough people up. I never even punched anyone until…” His words drifted off, and he cleared his throat. “My father taught me to use my brain to solve problems, not my fists. I fix companies. Not people. When companies fall apart, I figure out why. And if I can fix them, I do. If not, we restructure them until they work again.” The last part he rattled off without emotion, as if he was reciting a company tagline.
“And if they don’t start working again?”
He took a sip of his champagne. “That doesn’t happen if I can help it.” He turned toward me. “This is not a very romantic conversation,” he said. “What book are you reading now?”
He knew just what to say to turn me on. “The latest Eileen McKinnon.”
He tucked his flute of champagne into a holder and turned toward me. “You finishedBeneath the Stars?”
Lust streaked through me. He’d remembered the name of the book I’d been reading. I reached over him to place my champagne next to his, then took him by the shoulder. That was it, I couldn’t be so far away from this man. I had to kiss him. I slid closer.
Beckett put his arm over the back of the seat and cupped my shoulder, pushing the sweater off my shoulder to sear my skin with his fiery touch.
“What did you think of it?” he asked.
His fingers brushed my skin, and I shuddered, liquid pooling between my thighs. Gorgeous, smart, and wants to talk books? I was melting. Were there no limits to how sexy this man could be?
My tight throat made it difficult to speak. “You can read my review. It posted yesterday.”
Beckett bent his head to kiss my collarbone exposed by the drape of my neckline. “Hmm…” he said. “You smell good.”
Goose bumps broke out over my skin. “Did you get any writing done in London?”
His hand came to my hip, and he pulled me closer. “Mm-hmm.” He sampled my neck where it met my shoulder, causing a ripple of shivers down my spine. He curled his hand around the back of my neck, and his lips shifted up to my ear. I could feel the heat of his palm everywhere he touched.
“You didn’t say if you missed me.” He spoke against the sensitive shell of my ear.
My belly fluttered. I turned my cheek against his so that our mouths met. We kissed long and deep. A bolt of desire sparked through me, and I had to get closer. I shifted, hooking my leg over his. He grabbed my waist and lifted me to straddle his lap.
Our bodies pressed together, and his hands spread up my back. I opened my mouth, desperate to taste the champagne on Beckett’s tongue. I couldn’t get close enough.
We kissed as if we had all the time in the world to do nothing but explore each other’s mouths. I tasted the sweet champagne on his tongue and breathed in the spicy scent of his aftershave. We didn’t come up for air until the limousine slowed to a stop. The back door opened, and I glimpsed the black-clad legs of the driver.
I scrambled off Beckett’s lap, embarrassed to have been caught making out in the back seat like a teenager. However, Beckett seemed unfazed. He reached past me for our pile of outerwear and exited the car.
“Are we here already?” I climbed out of the limo to join Beckett.
I had assumed our destination would be a restaurant, maybe in a small town similar to Mossy Oak, but we had stopped in an empty gravel parking lot in the middle of nowhere. The sun had sunk behind the mountains, splashing its last burst of orange across the ink-blue sky.
Beckett had been right about the temperature. It was much colder now than it had been when I’d left work a few hours ago. Snow dusted the narrow lane that led to the highway and coated the top boughs of the fir trees that surrounded us. Trees were everywhere, filling the air with their earthy spice. They marched over the hills in rows of green triangles, pointing at the sky.
Beckett peered into the rows of trees alongside the parked limo, his feet planted wide. A faint smile crossed his mouth as he scrutinized the view. He held his hand out for me to join him. I took his hand and stepped up beside him. I became concerned for his sanity. There didn’t seem to be anything to see but rows and rows of trees.
What was he smiling at?Then I saw it—a flash of red gliding between the green trees. A faint jingling noise filled the air. Bells?
The limousine pulled back onto the road, leaving us in the gravel lot.
“I thought we were going to dinner,” I said.
“We are.” He pulled me toward a gap in the rows of trees. “We have to wait on our ride.” He pointed through the trees. “It’s almost here.”
The sound of horse hooves pounding the ground grew louder, and in a flash of silver and red, a sleigh glided through the row of trees.
Chapter 21
