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The crowd was gone. There was just Maddox.
Her lips softened under his, and as she relaxed, his mouth grew more possessive. He drew her closer still, and now she couldn’t tell where her body stopped, and his began. She could feel his heart beating strongly—or was it her own?
His fingertips traced along the outer edges of the dip in her spine, wandering dangerously close to her hips. Her legs moved restlessly, wanting to be closer to him still.
“Hey, get a room.”
The comment was like a dash of cold water, followed by a sharp realization of sanity. Like someone being awakened cruelly from a lovely dream, Emma wanted to scream at everyone to go away and burrow back into Maddox.
The MC took that moment to tap the microphone, the sound overly loud to her senses.
“Okay, folks, it’s the moment everyone has been waiting for. Gather around the big tree in the center of the room, and you’ll soon find out who your Secret Santa is.”
“Dammit,” Maddox groaned, “I forgot about that.”
Emma licked her lips, swallowing a groan as she tasted him there. “It’s the last thing you have to do tonight. Everyone is looking forward to their gifts.”
His eyes bored into hers with a message that sent new shivers through her body. “But I have to wait to unwrap mine.”
The way he said the words did something to her insides and made her toes curl in the tips of her shoes.
“We’re waiting, Mr. CEO.” The MC laughed nervously.
Maddox reluctantly stepped away from Emma. Pulling a card from his pocket, he placed it in her hand, curling her fingers around it. “Go up to my apartment and wait for me. I’m going to be the fastest Santa Christmas has ever seen.”
Emma watched him disappear into the crowd, then slowly opened her hand. In her palm was the key card to his suite. She swallowed the nerves that rose suddenly, her heart pounding in rhythm with every step she took toward the elevators.
CHAPTER THREE
. . .
Emma stepped out of the elevator and headed to Maddox’s apartment. Well, his hotel suite. Maddox enjoyed living as he did. No upkeep and no worries about parking. Full-time staff to cater to his every whim. It was a life he enjoyed and could afford. It wasn’t the first time Emma had been in Maddox’s home. It was, however, the first time she’d ever been there as a potential lover and not just as a friend. It made the place look different. Feel different.
She was afraid to be anywhere except the living room—or out on the terrace. She certainly wasn’t about to go into his bedroom. Just the thought had her palms sweating.
She was well aware of the big four-poster bed, matching chest, and nightstands. She knew about the brown and tan comforter, the green throw pillows, and even the Andy Warhol Sunset prints hanging on the walls. She’d helped pick them all out. Another perk to being rich. You could change the décor in a hotel suite to anything you wanted. Just as long as you paid for it.
Seeing all those things now would be different somehow.
She would be different.
No, scratch that. Shewasdifferent. That kiss under the mistletoe had changed things—at least for her. Now she knew that friendship with Maddox, as wonderful as it was—would never be enough for her. She’d had a taste of him, of passion with him, and the hunger for more was coursing like fire through her veins.
And if he only offered her this one night, she’d take it, and each time she grew lonely, she’d bring out her memories and open them again and again like a precious gift. It would be enough.
It would have to be. Maddox was all she’d ever want.
“What are you doing sitting here in the dark, honey?”
She started at the sound of his voice. She’d been so lost in her thoughts that she hadn’t heard him come in. “No,” she said quickly when he went to flick on the lights. “Let’s just enjoy the lights from the tree.”
“As long as I can see your beautiful face,” he said, sitting beside her on the wide leather couch. “Can I get you something? Some champagne?”
“No,” Emma’s hand covered his nervously, “I think I’ve had enough to drink tonight.”
He captured her hand, feeling the iciness of her fingers and the slight tremor she couldn’t hide. “Are you cold, Emma?”
“No…no,” she murmured, wondering suddenly if that was the only word she was capable of saying. “I’m fine.”
