Page 83 of Bought By Santa

Shaking my head, I open the cupboard above the sink and start pulling out items of makeup. It’s all luxury branded stuff that Nick’s bought, and I’m not sure I want to know how he’s managed to get the shades correct.

I begin my ritual with a rich moisturizer, followed by dabbing on concealer to hide the dark circles haunting my reflection. My hand pauses as I catch Nick’s frown in the glass.

“Why are you getting ready? We just got back and you need rest.” His voice is a low rumble, confusion lacing his words like a thread out of place on one of his immaculate suits.

“I need to see my sister,” I say, as I finish with the concealer and add foundation. “I want to be the one to tell her about her security detail.” As we left the warehouse, Nick arranged forsome of his men to guard Will at all times, which I appreciate. But she still needs to hear about it from me.

“Dammit, Carolina, we’ve been over this,” he growls, coming up behind me, his presence a furnace at my back. “It’s already done.”

“She still needs to hear it from me.” I turn to face him, my hands planted firmly on my hips, challenging his dominant stance.

His jaw tightens, the muscle ticking with restrained anger, or maybe it’s concern. It’s always hard to tell with Nick. Finally, he exhales sharply, the sound cutting through the tension. “Fine. But I’m coming with you—”

“No, you’re not. I need—”

“Enough!” he shouts. “I won’t jeopardize your safety for anyone. Not even your sister.”

Our eye contact becomes a battlefield, a battle of wills. But I know there’s no changing his mind, not if he perceives my safety to be threatened. “Fine,” I agree. Then I turn back to finish my makeup, keeping it light by just adding a touch of eyeliner and mascara.

“Call her then, set it up. And Caro…” He pauses, his hand cupping my cheek, thumb brushing my skin gently—a contrast to the hard lines of his body. “… I couldn’t bear anything happening to you. You know that.”

“I know,” I softly reply, my hand brushing across the scar on his face before I step into the bedroom.

Finding my phone, I call Will, putting her on speaker so I can get dressed while we talk.

“Hey, Will, how about lunch today? My treat,” I say when she answers, my voice brighter than I feel.

While I pull on a pair of black dress pants and a Christmassy red cashmere sweater that clings to me, we make the arrangements, and I promise to pick her up within the hour.Feeling inspired by the color, I go back to the bathroom and find a matching lipstick, and as I carefully dab it on my lips, I start to feel more at ease.

Jack’s going to be okay. My sister will be fine. And I… I’m happy. It feels weird to admit, but Nick makes me deliriously happy. Not in a mushy, gushy way, thankfully. Once upon a time, I might have thought that was the dream, but now, thanks to my twisted Santa, I know myself better.

After slipping on a pair of sky-high stilettos that look better than they feel on my feet, I settle a stylish beret over my braided hair. Luckily, I managed to keep it dry in the shower, and since I didn’t have time to wash and dry it, I hide it under the hat.

Nick’s waiting for me in the kitchen, with Marco and two other guys, and together we leave the apartment. Marco leads the way, making us wait in the elevator while he surveys the underground garage before waving us over to a vehicle that looks like a fortress on wheels.

“It’s bulletproof,” Nick explains as we slide into the backseat together.

“Of course it is,” I quip.

The other two guys slide into the seat behind me and Nick.

We drive in silence to pick up Willow, the city blurring past us like a tapestry of chaos and life. When we reach her place, the two guys jump out and quickly help her into the car, seating her opposite us before folding her wheelchair and placing it in the back.

Despite the confusion she must feel, her smile is a ray of sun piercing through the shadows that cling to my soul. “Nice ride,” Will comments. Then she looks between me and Nick. “So you’re him?”

“Him?” he asks, arching an eyebrow.

As I look at Nick, I try to imagine what my sister is seeing. She’s never been one to judge anyone by their looks, but there’sno denying he looks intimidating thanks to his intense gaze and the scar on his face. Oh, and then there’s the fact we’re being chauffeured in a fucking fortress, with bodyguards behind us.

“Ruby’s brother,” she answers easily. “The one who got engaged to my sister without even meeting me.”

Nick laughs. “That would be me, and I’m very sorry about that, Willow. Maybe I can earn your approval during lunch.”

She giggles, and the two of them continue their conversation. I’m content just to listen, and only interject when I feel like it’s needed. Which isn’t much.

The restaurant is swanky, the kind of place I never thought I’d be able to afford to step foot in, let alone dine in. The hostess’ eyes sweep over us, pausing on Nick, before she ushers us to a horse-shoe shaped booth in the back, tucked away from prying eyes.

The clink of silverware and the murmur of conversations cocoon me as Nick and I slide into the red leather booth while Will remains in her wheelchair at the end of the table. The scent of garlic and herbs wafts from the kitchen, promising a meal that’ll make you forget about the world outside these walls. Nick’s presence is like a gravitational pull, his dark eyes scanning the restaurant with an authority that makes my skin tingle.

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