Page 18 of Under the Mistletoe
“Thank you.” She gives me a small smile, one that radiates a genuine warmth. One that makes me bite back my own. I clear my throat, getting my head back in the game. It’s business, York. It’s business. Placing her lipstick back in her purse, she zips it closed. “Alright. I’m ready.”
I knock on the door for Gordon to open it.
Stepping out of the car, the flashes are unpredictable. There aren't too many, but enough to almost blind me. I usually stride straight inside, leaving whoever I’m with to trail behind. Not because I’m an asshole, but because that’s the quickest way to get everyone inside unscathed. But tonight, it’s different. I wait by the car door for Jessica to step out and reach for her hand when she does. It’s instinctual, and as I feel her hand in mine, the flashes come thick and fast.
“Oh…” The media takes her by surprise, causing her to wobble, and I internally curse myself for not forewarning her. She grips on to my hand, and I pull her to me. My head down and keeping her close, I walk us inside, the door closing on the chaos. Her soft palm soothes my own, and she doesn’t let go, so neither do I.
“Wow. That was intense.”
My eyes roam over her, ensuring she’s in one piece. Again, something I’ve never worried about before.
I run my hand through my hair, taking a breath. “Sorry, I should’ve warned you.”
“It’s fine. Just a little unexpected. I should've known the media follow you everywhere.” My thumb moves naturally to comfort her as I brush it over her hand, caressing her skin.
“Something I’ve become accustomed to. We might be front-page news tomorrow.” I say it tongue in cheek, but I’m interested in her response. My life is splashed in the pages of newspapers and online regularly, and while most women I spend time with love the attention, often posing for the cameras and giving them a wide smile, I have a feeling Jessica won’t, especially because, like me, she just ducked her head and walked inside, showing no interest in them at all.
“Something I need to get used to if we’re together.” She shrugs her shoulders like it isn’t a bother before she freezes. “I mean working together… not together together…”
I can’t help the grin that pulls at my lips as her blush heightens across her cheeks.
I don’t correct her. I don’t clarify. Instead, my fingers tighten around hers, just enough for her to notice, yet not enough for either of us to admit what it means. The silence stretches, not uncomfortable, but weighted. Like the air itself knows we’re toeing a line we shouldn’t cross. Then she finally looks up and our eyes lock. And for one breathless second, it’s all there. The want, the restraint, the risk.
“Donovan. I see you made it.”
Our hands drop from each other like we’ve been burned, and I turn to see Marcus Jasper, CEO of Jasper Enterprises and my arch nemesis.
“Marcus.” I’m cordial as I offer him my hand, not because I want to be, but because it’s business. I never burn bridges, and there’s a room full of people I notice now watching, although all their eyes settle on someone behind me.
“Who have you brought along with you tonight? It isn’t like you to bring one of your dates to a business function.”
I grit my teeth. “Marcus Jasper, this is my business advisor, Jessica Johnson.” I step to the side a little, allowing Jessica to meet him and try not to push him away when he steps closer to her.
“Pleasure to meet you.” Jessica is nothing if not professional.
“Oh, the pleasure is all mine,” Marcus coos as he takes her hand and looks her up and down slowly. As his eyes roam over her, I want to rip them from his head. I clear my throat, and he chuckles before dropping her hand and stepping back.
“Well, it seems like this evening just got a whole lot more interesting.” He slaps my upper arm like we’re buddies, and I fist my hand to resist the urge to hit him back as he walks away.
“He seems a little arrogant,” Jessica whispers, and I look down at her. She’s standing close to my side, keeping our conversation private.
“Just a little.”
She grins, and I can’t help the small smile that I have in response, the immediate stress I held in my shoulders moments ago now dissipating.
“Let’s go meet some people.” I guide her into the room, my hand at the small of her back, and soon we’re both swept up in greetings, handshakes, and conversations.
As the night progresses, Jessica meets most of the key players and some of our main competitors. I watch her work the room as I chat with old friends and new contacts, my eyes never leaving her for long. I don’t need to watch her. Just like everything else she does, she’s professional, can hold her own, and is personable. I wonder briefly if there’s actually anything wrong with her at all. Keeping my eyes on her, I feel tense each time I see yet another man get close. It’s been happening all night. Like a magnet, they’ve been swarming her since we arrived, and I hate it, realizing I want her just for me.
“You haven’t stopped looking at her all night.” Bentley, one of my father’s old friends, steps up to my side. He’s near retirement age and has been in the game longer than most. We get along well. He was always kind to me as a kid, and I saw him regularly growing up.
“I want to ensure she’s looked after.” It’s a lie and he knows it, if the glint in his eye is anything to go by.
“I spoke with her earlier. She’s a smart woman. Where did you find her?”
“She’s worked with me for a while.” I don’t divulge too many details.
“First woman you’ve brought to an event like this. That kind of move will have people talking.”
