Page 41 of A Chef's Kiss for Christmas
She was already warm from the dancing, but the heat of his hand seared through the thin fabric at the back of her dress, and his breath sweeping over her hair felt like a desert breeze.
“I guess you need to go home,” she said when the song ended.
“I probably should.” He took her hand and led her from the dance floor. “Promise not to make up vicious stories about me with your friends the minute I leave?”
She swatted at his arm, then yawned when he picked up his coat. “I think I’m going to call it a night and go up to bed.”
“Good plan. I always think it’s best to leave before the end of a party. It gives an air of mystery – as though you’ve got better places to be.”
“So you never stay until the end of parties?”
He shook his head and leaned close to her ear. “Not because I’m in any way mysterious. I just don’t particularly like parties.”
“You did a good job of pretending tonight.”
“I quite enjoyed this one.”
“I should say goodnight,” she told him, linking arms with him and heading towards her gang, who were flinging themselves around at the edge of the dance floor. “We’re going!” she called over the music when they got near.
“Decide to stay after all?” Jake asked Warren.
He opened his mouth, then glanced at Anna.
“I don’t blame you,” Dev said, swinging his hips to the music. “Make the most of that hotel room!”
“He’s drunk,” Kylie said merrily. “He’s not wrong, though. Enjoy the rest of the night.” She gave an exaggerated wink, then fell about laughing.
“Night,” Hayden said, passing them and heading to the bar.
As she watched him go, Anna’s brain flicked back to what he’d said earlier – that he should never have broken up with her.
Had he been drunk, or just trying to cheer her up? He hadn’tseemeddrunk, but she didn’t spend much time with him any more, so maybe she wouldn’t be able to tell.
Warren squeezed her fingers. “Let’s go.”
They were halfway up the stairs when she realised he was going the wrong way.
“I thought you were going to your car. You don’t need to walk me to my room.”
“I know, but I think it’s suspicious if I leave now. If I werereally your boyfriend, there’s no way I’d leave you to stay here alone.”
“You might if you had to work in the morning,” she said, feeling slightly tipsy despite only having drunk two glasses of wine.
“I’d call in sick.”
She squinted, unsure if he was really planning on staying the night or if he was just walking her to her room.
“Not that I can get away with calling in sick,” he added.
“I don’t suppose you can.” She stopped outside her door and fished in her bag for the key card, burying her disappointment that he hadn’t genuinely been suggesting he was going to take a sick day.
He had his phone in his hand and began typing a message. “I can probably get someone to cover for me at breakfast.”
Tapping the card against the lock mechanism, she watched the light turn green, then pushed at the handle.
“Are you really not going to work in the morning?” she asked, still not sure what was going through his head.
“They can manage breakfast without me,” he said, following her into the room.
