Page 90 of Sweet Poison

I never saw Madden again.

Not until years later, when Santa granted me my Christmas wish.

Chapter

Twenty-Nine

THE MAGIC OF CHRISTMAS MORNING

Willow

“Christmas wishes come true, especially when you’re holding my hand.” — M

Iblink awake to the soft sound of a door clicking shut. I’ve always been a light sleeper, the smallest sound pulling me from slumber. I blink a few more times adjusting to the soft light filtering through the curtains.

Then, as if the magical night we’ve spent together is etched to my very core, every moment with Madden comes rushing back. It’s like watching a movie— each scene so vivid, so perfect.

The picnic he’d arranged in the garden—an intricate spread of cheeses, fruits, and my favorite dessert, confetti cake, which we never got around to eating.

But then, the memory shifts. The reason we didn’t finish the food, or the drinks… My cheeks flush at the thought, heat spreading across my skin as I replay the words that still echo in my head.

You want to be mine, Willow…

If you give yourself to me, I’m not letting you go.

My heart thuds in my chest wild and uncontrollable.

I close my eyes— feeling the weight of everything we shared last night— his touch, his gaze, his kisses. He looked so handsome in all black looking at me as if he'd been waiting his entire life for me.

Then he took me in ways no one ever has before. Last night, he made me his in ways I can’t put into words, but I can feel it. I can feel his kisses, his nips, the way his hands held me so gently. The way he took me drove me crazy with a need that I never experienced before. The evidence of what we did lingers in my skin. I can still feel him between my legs, where he took me with a possessive tenderness that left me breathless, wanting more of him.

So, I reach out my hand grazing the other side of the bed but it’s cool and empty. He’s gone… the only trace of him is his scent— a mix of his cologne and something uniquelyhim.

I sit up, heart fluttering. Where did he go?

The suite is quiet, except for the subtle noise of crystals clicking together. That’s odd.

Wanting to know what’s happening outside the bedroom, I quickly slip out of bed, my bare feet meeting the plush carpet, and head toward the living room. The moment I step through the doorway, my breath catches in my throat.

Oh…wow.

There, in the middle of the living room, stands a magnificent fifteen-foot Christmas tree, its branches heavy with twinkling lights and ornaments that shimmer like jewels in the dim light. But what draws my eye is how this tree stands apart from the other. Its bows are a mint green, and tiny ceramic fairies gracefully cling to its branches, as if they’re dancing under thetwinkling lights. Everything about the tree whispers magic and wonder.

I can’t stop staring at it.

Beneath the tree, a cascade of brightly wrapped gifts unfolds, their green-themed cactus paper reminding me of the way my mom used to wrap presents when I was a kid. The gifts spill, across the floor, spilling into the bar area. There are so many… I can’t help but laugh in disbelief. Did he really do all this?

My grinch who clearly despises his Christmas and everything jolly?

Before I can take a step toward the tree, Madden appears, framed in the doorway with that intense look on his face that makes my knees weak. He’s a vision of raw masculinity in black satin pajamas, the fabric clinging perfectly to his muscular body. In one hand, he’s cradling a steaming cup of coffee, the aroma wafting toward me.

“Merry Christmas, Wild One,” he says, his voice low and teasing, playful grin curling on his lips. His black eyes sparkling with mischief. God, I love it when he looks at me like that because I know he’s happy and that’s all I ever want for him.

I smile back, my heart skipping many beats. “You did all this?” I ask, gesturing toward the extravagant tree and all the presents.

“It seems like Santa came,” he replies, stepping closer, his voice low with a flirty undertone. I don’t miss the double meaning, and suddenly the space between us feels charged. I feel the heat radiating off him, and a blush creeps up my cheeks, betraying the flutter in my chest.

“Wow,” I breathe, overwhelmed by the scene, by him. “You’re filthy, Madden.”

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