Page 8 of Five Days of Christmas Spice

“No, it’s okay. It’s nice of you to get my bag, thank-you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Walking through the crowded airport with Noel’s hand on my back, attraction makes my blood sizzle. When was the last time someone I didn’t pay carried my bag? Phil would pick up something if I asked, but he wouldn’t carry my bag because he knew I could do it.

We’d spent increasingly less time together in the last six months, which I know didn’t feed the relationship.

“Out this way. The dark blue Range Rover at the end is our ride,” Noel’s smooth voice breaks into my thoughts. He holds the door for me, and I allow myself to be guided to the vehicle on the snowy sidewalk.

A driver steps out of the vehicle. “Good evening, Mr. Brennon.”

“Hi Martin, thanks for coming. Did you have a good Hanukkah?”

“It was great. My brother and his family came down. How was your flight?”

Noel places his hand on my back, and I allow myself to be guided into the cushy leather seats.

“Good, thanks. Straight to the property, please,” Noel settles in beside me.

“You got it.” Martin picks up my bag and puts it in the trunk.

Noel closes his door and stretches his long legs out.

“How long are you staying at Vixen’s Paradise for?”

Cloying nerves take my voice away. For a second, I’m frozen. This was a stupid idea, getting in a car with a man I don’t know. Didn’t my mother warn me about this? And this whole trip. I should have turned back on the doorstep and gone home to my empty condo. I could have worked through the holidays or caught a flight to St. Augustine.

But the Brennon group called my cousin Stella for nine months about selling our grandmother’s land. I kept telling her I’d look into it, and honestly, it went to the bottom of the list because I didn’t want to think about it. It was hard to think about a place that held so many good memories against the backdrop of my parents’ marriage falling apart.

“Holly?” Noel places a hand on my arm. “Are you okay?”

“Sorry, I got lost in my thoughts. I’m heading back home to Edmonton on the thirtieth.”

“And mere curiosity made you book into our fine resort?”

A snort escapes before I can stop myself.

Noel raises that cool eyebrow again. His mouth twitches, revealing a dimple. “You don’t think our resort is fine?”

“I don’t know what to expect. After my beach plan didn’t work out, I wanted to do something just for me on my Christmas holiday.”

“And you thought exploring your kinky fantasy was just the thing?”

His gaze is making me squirm. I look out the window, shaking off his intensity. Until I told Noel, I hadn’t realized that I wanted something just for me.

“Vixen’s Paradise had availability when I made the reservation. On Christmas Eve, a lot of places don’t.”

“Most people who come are interested and eager. You sound as if you expect it to be awful.”

My nerves flutter under this man’s perception. “I’ve learned to keep my expectations low.”

“Afraid of being disappointed?”

“Used to being disappointed.”

Noel places a hand on my knee, a tiny little thrill shoots through me at being touched by a stranger. “I challenge you to walk in with an open mind. Vixen’s Paradise is designed to be a safe place for people to be themselves and engage in activities they might not do in their regular lives. What’s on your kinky try list?” His tone was light, almost teasing.

“Maybe,” I admit, taken back by this conversation. At one time, I wanted to engage in all the kinky things. But I got burned. Climbing back from that wound took me years.

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