The Billionaire's Christmas (A Sinclair Novella) (6 page)

“I lied,” he answered, not feeling even a tiny bit of guilt. There was no way he was going to give her back an unsafe vehicle to drive. Her hands were propped on her shapely hips, her eyes staring at the paper he was holding out to her, but making absolutely no movement to take it. “Take it. It’s one of the things I want,” he said, waving the title in front of her face.

“I want my truck. Where is it?” She ignored the paper being held in front of her, and shot him an obstinate look.

Grady didn’t think
now
was probably a good time to tell her that her truck was probably in a scrap metal pile somewhere in another city. “It’s gone. It was unsafe to drive.”

“It was perfectly safe. It just needed new tires. Give it back.”

Grady smirked. “Or what? You’ll have me arrested for giving you a better truck?”

“You stole my vehicle,” she accused, swatting at the hand holding the title to her new ride.

“I replaced a piece of shit with a brand-new truck. It only has a couple hundred miles on it,” he told her reasonably.

“Why are you doing this to me?” she asked him, her deep blue eyes confused and vulnerable.

Oh, Christ!
Although he liked seeing her all fiery and pissed off, he didn’t like her looking
upset
. Those wide blue eyes sucker punched him in the gut, and he quickly tucked the title of the truck into the back pocket of her jeans and scooped her up into his arms.

He sat on the leather couch, bringing her down on top of him. “What did I do? I thought you’d be happy to have a newer vehicle. Yours sucked,” he grumbled quietly, watching her angelic face as she stared back at him and tried to scramble off his lap. “Don’t move,” he demanded, holding her tighter, but not hard enough to hurt her. Having her shapely rear wriggling against his rock-hard cock was torture, but having her warm, cuddly body pressed against him was worth it. “I’m keeping your ass warm,” he informed her in what he hoped was a casual voice. “I thought you liked that.”

Emily stopped all movement and her head jerked around to look at Grady. A few seconds later, she burst into uncontrollable laughter, her whole body shaking, her eyes tearing with mirth. “This isn’t getting you out of giving my truck back, but I can honestly say I’ve never had someone offer to be my butt warmer before,” she gasped, still trying to recover her breath.

“Your truck is nonretrievable. You’ll have to take the newer one,” Grady answered, knowing that even if he could get it back, he wouldn’t. There was no way his woman was driving around in that old hunk of junk during a Maine winter. “Most people would be happy to have a more reliable vehicle.” Honestly, he didn’t understand her ire. “Why can’t you just take it as a Christmas present? You’re the one who said Christmas is all about giving. You’re not exactly cheery about getting a gift.”

“It’s too much, Grady,” she answered him seriously, her blue eyes warming as she ran her palm along the stubble on his jawline. “I appreciate it, but I can’t take a gift that expensive.”

He shrugged. “It’s not expensive to me. Shouldn’t a gift be relative to what someone can afford? I have other vehicles. I even have another truck. I’ll never even miss it.” It was the truth. He’d gone out and bought another truck right after he’d decided to give her the one she had been driving.

Emily sighed, her eyes searching his face. “We really are from two different worlds. Having that kind of money is unimaginable to me. I have to budget for everything.”

“I don’t have to budget. I just write a check and I never miss the money. Please take it, Emily. Let me have peace of mind that you’re more secure in shitty weather. Please,” Grady asked huskily, hoping she’d say yes.

“Do I have a choice?”

“Not really. I think that death trap is probably already scrap metal.”

Emily sighed, resigned. “Give me some time, okay? I’m not happy that you made that decision without talking to me first.”

Grady shrugged. “You would have said no, and I wouldn’t have accepted that. It was easier this way.” She might as well get used to it. He was going to protect what was his, and as far as he was concerned, she already belonged to him. He knew she definitely had
him
, whether she wanted him or not.

Dropping her hand, she folded both of them together in her lap, and Grady saw tears begin to stream down her beautiful face.

Fuck!

“I don’t know how to deal with this,” Emily said, dejected.

“What?” Grady asked, confused.

“I don’t understand. I don’t know why you’re doing this. I’m used to solving my own problems, and I’m not used to having anyone who cares whether I drive an old vehicle or if my glasses are scratched. I’m definitely not accustomed to a man who would donate a million bucks just to spend Christmas with me, thereby saving my ass and maybe my job after another man just used me to get quick access to money.” Emily drew a deep breath and added, “I can’t figure out your motive and it’s driving me crazy. I’m just an ordinary woman. I’m not beautiful or the type of woman any man would lose his mind over. I’m not worth all this, so the things you’re doing make absolutely no sense.”

Grady had tried to be patient, but as soon as she finished speaking, he completely lost it.

Emily was on her back on the couch, Grady pinning her body to the leather, before she even knew what had happened. Startled, she stared at the fierce expression on his face, looming right above hers, with trepidation. He’d switched positions so fast that her mind was still whirling.

“It’s only money. And don’t ever say you aren’t worth it and that you aren’t beautiful,” he rumbled angrily. “I grew up with money, I’ve always had it, and now I have more than I’d need in a hundred lifetimes. I don’t give a shit about money. It doesn’t make people happy. Rich people can be pretty damn miserable. Maybe it would be worth it to me to actually experience a different kind of Christmas for a change. I think you’re worth every stupid thing I give you and a hell of a lot more.”

She gaped at him, his words touching a place in her heart that made it ache with sadness. Because right at that moment, she realized that this man
wasn’t
happy, and probably never had been. The fact that he hated Christmas should have tipped her off, but she’d been too busy wondering why he was doing anything for her to realize that he was actually hurting. Somewhere deep inside, Grady Sinclair had wounds that weren’t visible, but were obviously painful. She’d been too caught up in the money to realize that there was so much more to his behavior than money. In fact, she believed him. The money really did mean nothing to him.

“You don’t have to give me anything to spend Christmas with me, Grady. I want to be with you,” she answered, feeling the truth in her words. “You didn’t need to give so much to the Center, and I don’t need an expensive truck. I’m alone this year too,” she whispered quietly.

“Not anymore,” he answered fiercely. “You have me.”

Emily sighed and her body relaxed beneath his. She could have protested that they barely knew each other, that they hadn’t had more than a spectacular kiss and a long phone conversation. But, the truth was, she had felt the connection between them from the very moment she’d looked up at him from her undignified position on his front porch. But she was a practical woman, and she was afraid that Grady Sinclair was heartbreak waiting to happen. “Did you really think I was a prostitute? Do you . . . um . . . do that a lot?”

“No. But my younger brother Jared seems to think not getting laid on a regular basis makes me irritable,” he replied, his eyes still boring into her, his expression intense.

“Does it?” she asked curiously, wriggling a little to see if she could escape her prison, or at least get her arms loose.

“Not any more irritable than I usually am. But it doesn’t stop him from trying occasionally.”

Emily’s arms finally broke free from between their bodies, and she wrapped them around his neck, aching to try to relieve some of the turmoil she could see in his smoky eyes. “Where is all your family?”

His eyes grew darker. “None of us particularly like the holidays. My father was a drunk, and the holidays weren’t a good time for my family. Evan is conveniently on business in another country where they don’t celebrate Christmas, and my other brothers are working too. My sister is in Aspen with her latest loser boyfriend whom none of us can talk her into dumping even though all he wants is her money.”

“Then I guess you’re stuck with me,” she told him lightly, stroking the silky strands of hair at the nape of his neck. This man deserved a happier experience, and she was determined to give it to him.

“You’re taking the truck,” he mumbled stubbornly.

“I’m putting up a Christmas tree,” she warned him. “And I’m baking cookies. You have to listen to Christmas music for a whole week.”

He grimaced slightly, but answered, “I don’t care. As long as you stay, and keep the truck, I’ll negotiate.” He leaned down and rested his forehead against hers.

Every nerve in Emily’s body was vibrating with need, and it was more than just physical. Grady was holding the majority of his weight from her body with his arms, but his muscular body was still plastered against hers from knees to chest, and she could feel the heavy, hard length of his cock pressing against her core. The heat of his body and the scent of his arousal surrounded her, and all she wanted was to melt against him and . . .

Bong. Bong. Bong. Bong. Bong. Bong.

The huge wall clock struck six o’clock, shaking Emily from her sensual thoughts. “Oh shit . . . the party!” She’d been so distracted that she’d completely forgotten that they needed to get to the party at the Center. She wriggled in earnest, knowing she was already late.

Grady sat up, looking like he was extremely reluctant to move. “What party?”

Emily hopped off the couch and to her feet. “The Christmas party at the Center is tonight. I told you I had to be at the annual Christmas party.”

“You’re not leaving me already?” Grady grumbled, coming to his feet.

“Of course not,” she answered excitedly. “You’re coming with me.”

“I hate parties,” he replied with a reluctant expression.

“You won’t hate this one,” she promised, grabbing his hand and tugging him toward the door. “Most of the town shows up.”

“I’m not dressed for a party,” he argued.

Emily eyed his jeans and tan cable-knit sweater that looked and felt very much like cashmere. He looked good enough to eat and she’d savor every bite. “It’s casual. You look gorgeous.”

He shot her a wicked grin that sent incendiary heat directly between her thighs.

Grady Sinclair was an unholy temptation no matter what he was wearing, and she had to tear her gaze away from his to even make it out the door.

Grady went to the party, unable to stop himself from following Emily wherever she led. The woman was like a Pied Piper who led him around by his swollen cock. But the moment they arrived at the YCOA, Emily had to circulate and do her job, so he headed straight for the patio. The guests for the party were already arriving and filling the recreation area of the Center. Wishing he hadn’t left his leather jacket at the door, he paced the small patio area to keep warm, reminding himself that he wasn’t a kid anymore.

I can do this. I need to do this. If being near Emily means I have to conquer my fears, then damn it, I will.

Striding determinedly toward the glass patio doors that he’d slipped out of earlier, he stepped inside and stopped abruptly, the music and noise hitting him instantly, and his gut started to roil with apprehension.

He could see Emily on the other side of the room, helping Santa pass out gifts to the crowd of children around a massive tree. Some of the adults were dancing on the wooden floor, swaying to a sappy old Christmas tune coming from a set of speakers near the dancing area. Grady suspected that this enormous space was probably a basketball court or a sports area for the kids when it wasn’t being used for a Christmas party. Honestly, he didn’t have time to look that closely because he was overcome with dizziness and nausea, the floor tilting, his vision blurred as he broke out in a nervous sweat.

Fuck! Not now. I can’t do this right now.

Grady’s hand grasped the frame of the door to steady himself, cursing his own weakness.

“Grady? Are you okay? Are you sick?” Emily had come over and was standing right in front of Grady.

“Hate parties,” he reminded her, his voice graveled and weak.

Emily cupped both sides of his head and tilted his gaze to her. He stared into her gorgeous blue eyes, his vision clearing as she said sternly, “Look at me. Don’t look anywhere else. Focus on me.”

Her concerned, compassionate, beautiful face turned the world upright again, and his hungry gaze looked at nothing but her. Suddenly, everything else faded, and there was nothing but Emily.

Walking backward, she took his hands and led him into the room, her eyes never leaving his. Grady didn’t even notice where she was taking him until she halted at the edge of dance floor.

“I need you to dance with me, Grady. I need you to touch me. Can you do that?” she asked in a sultry, fuck-me-right-now voice.