Page 31 of 'Tis the season of Wicked Deeds

Kingston notices and reads my mind in a flash.

“Hmm… I forgot someone came here to be all sorts of bad.”

I shiver at his seductive tone and try to pull away from his embrace. His arm bands around my waist and thwarts my escape attempt. “You’re having too much fun at this.”

“I’m not the one who wrote the naughty list, Twinkle.”

“Yet you want all the perks.”

“Does it mean you’re saying yes?”

“No,” I huff, rolling my eyes.

“But you are considering it?” he retorts with a grin. “I’m fine as long as there’s progress. Though I need to remind you that the list is long and we only have seven days.”

Like I need a reminder of how short period of a time that is.

Tilting my chin, he caresses my mouth and tugs at my bottom lip. “I want to make all of your fantasies come to life. Every single one of them.”

I swallow, falling under his spell and almost blurting out yes right there on the sidewalk.

Only to come back to my senses.

“You said we’d talk later about this.”

Usually, a man would be frustrated by now and not hide his annoyance at the girl playing hard to get. Most men would even move on to their next conquest.

Not Kingston, though.

He gives me a small smile, one full of adoration. Kissing me quickly, he nods and says, “Later then.”

“Thank you.”

Tucking me closer again, he asks, “We still have time before the festivity starts. Do you want to eat? You must be hungry.”

My stomach grumbles, reminding me I only ate a tiny sandwich on the train ride over here. “Yes, I’ll need energy if we’re going to be walking a lot tonight.”

“We will be. The final window won’t be revealed until midnight.”

“Good thing I’m a night owl.”

After walking on the cobblestoned path down the resort’s street, we reach the main village. It is bustling with people and every inch is decorated with Christmas-themed embellishments and thousands of twinkling lights. They are tied in a crisscross pattern and meet in an arch in the center over the circular garden. The most humongous Christmas tree I’ve ever seen stands in the middle.

So lively and beautiful.

Tourists pose and click pictures in front of it. I pull out my phone and snap a picture, excited to send it to Tina and Pooja Aunty—her mom—later. Before I lose courage, I shyly ask Kingston, “Will you please click my picture with the Christmas tree?”

“Like I’d ever say no to you,” he scoffs and grabs my phone. Flicking his chin, he nudges me forward.

“You better take really cute and good ones,” I warn, wagging my finger at him.

“Just go and pose, woman.”

I skip and take the spot emptied by another couple. I ruffle my hair so it’s bouncy, stand with my hip cocked to the side, and smile at the camera. I do some random poses, which Kingston perfectly captures. Walking back to him, I stare at the screen and squeal, “These are perfect. Are you also a part-time photographer or something?”

He has even captured a candid picture where I’m gazing up in awe at the tall Christmas tree.

“It’s all you, darling. You’re too stunning.”

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