Page 40 of 'Tis the season of Wicked Deeds

Except, I can’t find it anywhere. I check every nook and cranny, but there’s no sign of my list.

Suddenly, it dawns on me that Kingston must’ve kept it, even though I’d bet all my money that he has it memorized.

Ugh… Never mind.

Let him have it as a keepsake.

Walking outside, I lock my door and inhale the fresh morning air. Unlike yesterday, I’m prepared for the cold weather. When I enter the reception area through the revolving door, it’s a ruckus.

My eyes immediately find Kingston—drawn to him like a moth to a flame—behind the counter, talking with a tense Hilda.

Are my words becoming true? Is he scolding her? I hope not.

As if he’s as tethered to my presence as I am to his, his head swivels in my direction. Those gorgeous eyes of his brighten when they land on my face. Both of us roam our gazes over each other, admiring and lusting.

A light brown cashmere sweater fits his sculpted upper body, teasing at his toned abs. His tattoos peer from beneath his rolled-up sleeves. I want to trace and explore them with my tongue. He must have so many. I’m dying with curiosity to see where they lead.

Was it really that long ago when he offered to show them to me?

I give him a shy smile and a small wave.

What kind of hypnosis has he done to me? I never behave like this.

Hilda calls for his attention, but he makes an excuse and strides over to me, cutting through lingering guests. My smile is uncontainable when he engulfs me in his arms as soon as I’m within touching distance. I hear him sigh in contentment against my neck, like I’m just what he needed in this moment. I wrap my arms around him and squeeze tight.

Leaning back, his lips descend on mine in a soft kiss. “Morning, Twinkle. You look beautiful. Loving the boots.”

I blush. “Thank you.”

“Sleep well?”

“Slept like the dead, actually.”

He laughs throatily, entrancing me. “Good. Because for the next few days, I’m going to keep you up for hours.”

“I don’t mind. Sleep’s overrated anyways.”

“Tease.”

“So, what’s happening?” I ask, not missing the shadow of stress on his face and the scene I walked into. I can’t resist rubbing his chest soothingly, while he toys with my curls.

“Breakfast is running a little late. One of our chefs, who was in charge of baking, couldn’t make it because of a family emergency. I would usually order from a local shop in situations like this, but since it’s a holiday, that’s not possible.”

An idea strikes and I don’t hesitate. “I can help. I run my own bakery back home, King. I’m assuming you have all the ingredients? I can bake something quick and easy.”

Contemplation darkens his chiseled face, his square jaw shrouded in his sexy beard and hair messy, like he has been running his hands through it all morning. “No. You’re our guest, I can’t ask you to do that. You’re here to relax and enjoy.”

“Didn’t you call me yours last night?” I lift one eyebrow, smirking.

Possessiveness storms his features and he growls, “Youaremine.”

“Then I would love to help, albeit it may not be as delicious as your che—”

Cupping my cheeks, he smacks a hard kiss against my lips, quietly murmuring, “Thank you, darling. Never sell yourself short, I know whatever you bake will be scrumptious.”

His confidence in my abilities astounds me and happiness spreads inside my chest. Besides Tina, no one’s ever believed in me without a shadow of a doubt or lifted my spirits. Most importantly, it doesn’t sound like a line or a way for Kingston to get into my pants.

Genuineness shines in his words.

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