Page 25 of Texas Tycoon's Christmas Fiancée
Her gaze settled on him, glacial green that conveyed her irritation. “I know I did. That doesn’t make me want to.”
“Honor the request of an aging, failing grandfather.”
“Stop playing on my sympathy,” she flung back at him.
“I’m just stating the truth,” Nick replied. While she kept her features impassive, he could see the battle raging inside her.
“Very well,” she said, relenting. “I know I told him he could see Michael.”
“Thank you, Grace,” Nick said. “Christmas is next weekend. Come visit Christmas Eve. Have dinner with us and stay over Christmas morning. Then you can go home and have your Christmas with Michael. That way, I’ll enjoy Christmas.”
“I think that’s way more visiting than I intended when I told your father we would see him again.”
“Look, you don’t have plans. You’ve already told me that. This may be Dad’s last Christmas. Michael’s presence would give him so much joy. Your presence will give me pleasure,” Nick added, wanting her to agree. He wasn’t looking forward to Christmas Eve and morning with his dad, something they never used to do, yet something he felt duty-bound to do now.
“Nick, I don’t care to spend my Christmas with your dad.”
Nick stood and walked around the desk, pulling her chair out and grasping her waist to draw her to her feet. Frowning, she opened her mouth, he guessed, to protest. He took advantage and leaned down, covering her mouth with his.
Momentarily, she was stiff in his arms and then she yielded, wrapping an arm around his neck. His body heated with white-hot desire as he leaned over her and kissed her hungrily, pouring out the lust he’d felt in her absence. He savored the kiss, the softness of her mouth, the sensual feel of her tongue. Her body was curvaceous, lush and warm against him. He tangled his hand in her hair, which had been pinned on her head. He didn’t care. He intended to kiss away her remoteness and elicit a response and an acceptance from her.
He could feel her heart thumping against his, hear her soft moans that raced through him like lightning. He wanted to lay her down on her desk and make love to her now, but that was impossible.
Instead, he tore his mouth away to look at her as she gasped. Her eyes slowly opened. “Spend Christmas with me,” he demanded. “You’ll be alone otherwise. I want you there with me. Will you?”
“Yes,” she whispered, looking dazed. Fire now replaced the frost in her green eyes. Her lips were red, full, an enticing temptation. He dipped his head again to kiss her, stopping any words.
She arched against him, holding him tightly while her fingers tangled in his hair. He throbbed with need and was hard, ready. They had to go slowly, because they were racing headlong into a depth that would complicate and heighten the friction between them.
“Stop, Nick. We’re in my office,” she gasped. She gulped air and her protest was weak, but he stepped away.
She smoothed her hair that had too many strands pulled loose to put back in place. As he watched, she took it down and shook her head. He reached out, winding his fingers in her silky, thick hair.
“Your hair is beautiful, Grace,” he whispered. He leaned forward to brush a kiss on her throat. “I want to bury my hands in it.”
“Nick, my assistant could come in.”
“She won’t. I asked her to see to it that you’re not disturbed,” he whispered, trailing kisses to her nape and hearing her intake of breath. He placed his hand against her throat and could feel her racing pulse, which gave him a stab of satisfaction.
He straightened, dropping his hands to his sides. “You agreed to Christmas Eve with me and Christmas morning.”
“I know,” she whispered, her reluctance obvious.
“I promise to see to it you have a good time.”
“You can’t possibly promise that,” she said without conviction in her voice. He couldn’t keep from smiling at her.
“It’ll be a Christmas to remember forever,” he said.
“Watch what you promise,” she warned, the frost returning to her gaze. “Now you go back and sit where you were unless you’re leaving.”
He gripped her hand. “Come here.” Circling the desk, he held a chair facing his. “Sit here and stop keeping the damned desk between us. I want to talk to you before I go.”
“Have you always spent Christmas Eve and morning with your father?” she asked as she sat, her question surprising him.
Pulling his chair closer to hers, Nick shook his head. “No. There were a lot of holidays when he would go off to Europe with my current stepmother. I stayed with a friend,” he answered without thinking about his reply. His thoughts were on Grace because her disheveled appearance made him think of hot sex. Her hair tumbled around her face, cascading across her shoulders, a thick, wild mane that was a sensual invitation.
Her lips were just-been-kissed red. Desire glowed in the depths of her gaze, making it difficult to think about their conversation when what he wanted to do was draw her back into his embrace and continue kissing her.
