Page 22 of 'Tis the season of Wicked Deeds

“What do you think?” he rasps.

“What is your plan here, exactly?” I counter. “Wear me down to be with you?”

“Will it work?”

“Stop answering with a question.”

“I didn’t even know I was going to run into you here, Twinkle. Or that I’d be relieved that you purposely spoiled our date,” he says the last part teasingly. Coming to a halt, he stares at my flushed face and promises, “So you can bet on everything holy that I won’t let this second chance go to waste, no matterhow stubborn you are. Whatever walls or reservations you have, I’m going to tear them down.”

I swallow nervously, my stomach flipping pleasingly. “I won’t make it easy.”

“As long as the prize is you, I’m up for any challenge.”

Such a smooth talker. And my name on his tongue, in that slight accent, is fast becoming my weakness.

“We’ll see,” is all I mutter, making him smile.

“Youwillbe seeing a lot of me.”

His mysterious tone prickles my senses as we bypass two lodges before stopping in front of a one-story tall cottage. It’s the biggest out of the rest. I’m assuming it’s mine. What Hilda informed me makes sense. It’s more suited for a large family. I can’t see the balcony that she mentioned. It must be on the other side.

There’s also a fence around it with a few short steps leading to the front door. It’s giving more of a cabin vibe, which I adore.

I’m secretly wishing the other half isn’t booked by anyone so I can have this all to myself. Before I can truly appreciate it, Kingston’s earlier statement pops into my head.

I can’t help but cautiously ask, “What did you mean by I’d be seeing you a lot?”

“I’m staying in the second bedroom in your lodge,” he reveals, his tone smug.

“But…” I stammer. “But you’re not a guest. Don’t you have your own place to stay at?”

My reaction makes him amused and once again, he takes my wrist and propels me up the staircase. “Did Hilda not inform you about the recent changes to this cabin?”

“She did.”

My skin tingles when he lets go to insert the keycard. “Why are you surprised then?”

“Because I didn’t know it would come attached with you. And isn’t there an unwritten rule that an owner shouldn’t share a room with their guests? If not, it should be.”

“I’ll happily be at your service, darling.” He winks and opens the door.

I refuse to go in and cross my arms. “What about my right to privacy?”

“Of course you’ll have your privacy.” He chuckles low. “Do you think I’m going to be walking around you like a shadow, popping up from hidden corners? I mean, we can arrange it if you wish, though.”

“No, thank you.”

“Then get inside, stubborn girl.”

Why does it feel like a trap? The thought of being alone in a closed space with him is both tempting and dangerous. As we lock in a staring battle, the air charges with sizzling tension. If he touched me, I’d combust into flames of desire.

I’mthatwound up from months of restless nights dreaming about him.

Stealing orgasms with memories of him but still left frustrated.

Leaning against the doorway in an effortlessly sexy move, he sighs. “We will only be sharing a balcony, Twinkle. You can keep the door locked at all times. Although, I hardly believe you’ll be spending the entire time holed up inside.”

“What if I don’t lock it?” What the hell is wrong with my tongue? Why do I keep blurting out insane and totally provocative things like this?

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