Page 31 of Christmas With The Kings
I laughed. “Of course, he would,” I whispered to the empty room, already grinning like a lunatic.
Two bright bows with attached strings to weave in through the braids completed the look. Tiny jingle bells dangled at the ends. The whole thing screamed Christmas, and it was perfect. Playful and the right kind of naughty.
It was designed to make people stare. And to remind everyone I belonged to someone who didn’t mind flaunting it. Nik didn’t get jealous. He got possessive, and there was a difference. A big, toe-curling, panty-dampening difference.
I dressed, savoring the ritual of it. Each piece felt like a love letter from him. Every detail was perfectly curated, a mix of his fantasies and my flair. The skirt barely covered anything and would ride up the second I bent over. The blouse was snug across my chest, hugging my curves. The stockings clung like a second skin, and the bows made me want to twirl just to see them bounce.
By the time I was done, I looked like a Christmas pin-up in a peppermint daydream. And…I didn’t hate it. In fact, I felt gorgeous and owned in the best way. When I finally stepped out of the bedroom, I found him still waiting by the door, arms crossed, one brow cocked, the corner of his mouth twitching.
“Well,” he said, voice low and laced with dark appreciation. “Look at my pretty little present.”
I twirled, letting the skirt flare dangerously high. “Do you like it?”
“I picked it, didn’t I?”
He stalked over, hands bracing either side of my waist, his thumbs grazing the edge of my skirt like he was already imagining it flipped up. “You’re lucky I’ve got a schedule to keep, baby girl. Otherwise, we wouldn’t be leaving this cottage today.”
“Promises, promises,” I teased.
He chuckled, then reached for my hand, pressing a kiss to my knuckles before guiding me to the door.
“Let’s make some memories,” he said again, this time with a devilish twinkle in his eye.
I glanced down, wiggling my toes, then looked up with a mock frown. “We have a bit of a problem…”
He raised an eyebrow. “Do we?”
“You didn’t leave me any shoes?”
His grin widened. “Didn’t I?”
He stepped over to the console table near the door and bent, retrieving a box wrapped in red foil with a velvet ribbon. Of course. He never did anything halfway.
“Go ahead,” he said, offering it to me. “Open your gift.”
I perched on the arm of the sofa and tugged the ribbon loose, lifting the lid and gasped. Inside were the most ridiculous yet adorable shoes I’d ever seen. Low-heeled velvet booties in deep cranberry red, lined with white faux fur trim. A golden bell was stitched at each ankle, and satin laces threaded through candy-cane eyelets. They looked like a mix between elf chic and designer couture. Comfortable. Cute. So unbelievable Nikolai.
“Are you serious right now?” I asked, holding one up, marveling at the detail. “These are insane. And perfect.”
He knelt in front of me and lifted my foot. “Of course they are. Just like you.”
I bit my lip as he guided my foot into the boot, fingers warm and careful. When he looked up, his gaze dragged from my legs to my face with reverence that made my breath hitch.
He tied the laces, then moved to the other foot. Then, with a firm but affectionate grip, he tugged my tights to smooth them beneath the cuff and looked up at me with that quiet authority that made my pulse skip.
“There,” he said. “Can’t have my baby girl getting cold toes.”
My chest pulled tight. Stupid tears prickled behind my eyes for no reason at all. I was fine. I was happy. But sometimes love snuck up and overwhelmed me in the simplest gestures. In the way he cared without fanfare, like loving me came easy—when I knew different.
“You okay?” he asked, voice low as he stood and brushed his fingers along my jaw.
I nodded and swallowed the lump in my throat. “Yeah. Just…excited.”
“You’re going to leave glitter and jingle wherever you go today, baby girl,” he murmured, “and I love it.”
My heart did an actual somersault. “Better hold my hand then,” I whispered, voice breathy with affection. “Or someone might try to steal your sparkle.”
He stood, tugged me to my feet and into his chest. “They can try.”
