Millionaire Under the Mistletoe

by Stefanie London

  “Ready to try on your own?” he asked. His eyes were bright, almost translucent under the glow of the rink’s fairy lights.

  “Hell no. Don’t you dare let go of my hand.”

  “You’ll be fine. I’ll be right behind you.”

  He let go and skated behind her, resting his hands lightly on her hips. It was a terrifying and exhilarating freedom; her hands stuck straight out in fear but he stayed close behind. Knowing he was there made her feel like she could take a risk.

  Everything was going well until she saw a flash of red beside her, one of those damn speeding children. A sharp bump from the side threw her balance and her feet tangled beneath her. She screamed and prepared for the hard landing.

  “Whoa there.” Evan’s strong arms wrapped around her and hoisted her up before she hit the ground. “I’ve got you.”

  “Little shi—” She bit the word off, heart thudding loudly in her ears.

  Evan’s laughter reverberated in her ear, his breath hot on her cheek. She steadied herself and he grabbed her hand again, skating around the side of her.

  “It’s okay, you’re safe now. I think the devil is off the ice.” He pointed to where the boy was exiting the rink with his family.

  “Good reflexes by the way.” She looked up to his smiling face, feeling her heart jolt in her chest. “You saved me from a very soggy evening.”

  “I don’t think I’d mind seeing you soggy, somehow.” His voice was low, his lips close to her ear as he skated with absolute confidence. “At least if I get you all soggy then I have an excuse to get you out of your clothes.”

  “Does that mean it doesn’t count if we break the rules?”

  He pulled her in front of him, and wrapped his arms around her waist. “I don’t care what it means so long as I can have you again.”

  “You’re a bad influence, Evan Foss.” She allowed herself a satisfied smile since they were both facing the same way and he wouldn’t have been able to see. But a small part of her felt as if her whole body vibrated with happiness and there was no way he would be able to miss it.

  A little voice in the back of her head tried to tell her that this was all part of the bet. But for once, she told that voice to shut the hell up.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Evan stared up at the ceiling, his eyes fixed on a drifting shadow. Full darkness was never achieved in his London flat since the city stayed awake all night. The twinkling lights breached the edges of his blinds, allowing him to make out outlines of his furniture and the willowy woman next to him. It’d taken him a long time to get used to the light—since the cottage was shrouded nightly in pitch black. The stars had been his only light source then, when clouds didn’t hide them away. These days, stars were a rare treat.

  Stella shifted in her sleep, her breathing deep and even. She slept like the dead, which wasn’t surprising after what they’d done tonight.

  Watching her slowly gain confidence at the ice rink had made him far happier than it should’ve. Originally, he’d decided to take her there because it made the best use of London’s crappy weather and she couldn’t very well complain about it being cold if that was the whole point. But helping her find her feet and being there to stop her falling had filled him with a soul-deep satisfaction. Like for the first time in his life he was doing something good for someone else. And having fun. And not thinking about work.

  Will wonders never cease…

  After skating, they’d indulged in some mulled wine. It’d gone straight to Stella’s head, and she’d giggled with an abandon that he’d never seen before. They’d stood at the edge of the rink, watching the more experienced skaters glide on by. Without waiting for an invitation, she’d tucked her body close into his, and he wondered if maybe he was missing out on something. Was it possible that a relationship might fill the gaps in his life that he hadn’t even known existed?

  Instead of trying to answer such an impossible question, he’d brought Stella home and undressed her in front of the fireplace. Her laughs had turned to moans and they’d satiated themselves on the couch, on the floor, and eventually in his bed. She’d fallen asleep before he’d even been able to dispose of the condom.

  Evan flung an arm over his eyes in an effort to stifle the light. What the hell was he doing?

  Stella would be going home in a few short weeks and he would need to return his full attention back to work. If she sold him the estate, then he’d be snowed under with paperwork, planning requests, and permit applications. And if she didn’t sell…well, he needed to figure out how else to get his hands on a hotel. It wouldn’t be easy—properties like the Jackson Estate often went to auction where the price rocketed. He knew that Stella was set on choosing the “right” buyer for the estate, someone that would really care for the property and keep some kind of memorial to her grandfather there. For her, it wasn’t about money.

  Which was exactly why he needed to convince her to sell to him. His business was doing well, but so much of his cash was tied up in other projects. He couldn’t afford to pay double or triple the asking price at auction. The Jackson Estate had to be his.

  He slipped out of bed as quietly as he could, and walked into the kitchen to get a glass of water. Sleep was clearly not going to come and he didn’t want to pass his restlessness onto her. The windows in the main area of the flat were uncovered, giving him an unadulterated view of London’s cityscape. As much as he loved being in the midst of the action, he missed life on the estate. He missed the people, missed the quiet solitude of working on the land. Most of all, he missed having a place that felt like home.

  “What are you doing sneaking off like that?” Stella’s husky sleep-heavy voice caught his attention. She padded into the kitchen, barefoot. A blanket was draped over her shoulders like a cape.

  “I didn’t mean to wake you.” He put his glass down on the counter and opened his arms to her. “Come on, back to bed.”

  A grumbled protest was muffled as she pressed her face to his chest. The scent of her—faded perfume and a hint of perspiration—made him suck in a long, slow breath. Her arms wound around his waist and she leaned against him.

  “You’ll get cold,” he warned.

  “I’m okay.” She nuzzled against the crook of his neck. “Why can’t you sleep?”

  “Work stuff is keeping my mind busy.” He brushed her hair from her face, his thumb sweeping across her temple. “I think too much and then I can’t seem to turn my brain off.”

  “You need a distraction.”

  “Yeah.” He kissed her forehead.

  Her hands slipped under the hem of his T-shirt, her fingertips skating over his stomach and up to his chest. “I can distract you.”

  In the semi-darkness, with her whispered words and feather-light touches, Stella seemed like a figment of his imagination. Had he dreamed her into being? She pushed his T-shirt up and pressed a kiss to his skin.

  “You’re supposed to be sleeping,” he said.

  Her tongue darted out to swipe along his nipple and his body went into high alert. When she grazed her teeth over the sensitive area, all the blood in his body rushed south, hardening his cock in an instant.

  “I’ll sleep later,” she whispered, her tongue continuing to draw lines over his chest and stomach.

  “But—”

  “Shhh.” She pressed a finger to his lips and slowly lowered herself in front of him.

  Holy hell. Her lips trailed kisses down past his belly button to the waistband of his sweats. Was she really going to…?

  “Oh, God.” His head rolled back. Yes, she was definitely going to do more than tease him.

  Her hand cupped his erection through the soft material and she stroked up and down with maddening slowness. Then she stripped him down to nothing. Cool air swept over his sensitive skin. The head of his cock brushed her lips as it was released from his jocks, earning a husky laugh from Stella.

  “So eager,” she whispered as she wrapped her hands around him.

  S
he guided the head of his cock to her mouth and ran her tongue over the throbbing tip in a slow circular motion. Without thinking, his hands went to her head, his fingers threading through her sleep-mussed hair. Her eyes flicked up to him, a smile tugging on her shiny lips. She took her time. Learning his shape and feel, figuring out what made him gasp. What made him groan. Her tongue dragged over the slit at the tip of his cock and white-hot pleasure shot through him.

  “Christ, Stella. I won’t last long if you keep that up.”

  There was something intimate about the spontaneous, mid-night tryst. Their encounter—cloaked in semi-darkness—felt almost illicit. He tightened his grip on her hair, guiding his cock between her lips and along her tongue. Her fingernails dug into his thighs as she braced herself, bobbing her head up and down. Taking him slowly, deeply.

  Evan’s body tensed. He tried not to wrench his grip, but when the tip of him bumped the back of her throat, his hips jerked. “Stella,” he growled. “Stop.”

  She released him with a soft pop, but continued stroking him as she looked up. Her lashes cast shadows over her cheekbones and a wicked smile curved her lips. “I’m not done, yet.”

  “I almost am,” he gritted the words out. She had him on edge. “Your tongue is incredible.”

  “Keep talking.” Her hot breath whispered over his sensitive skin, making his balls gather up against his body. “Tell me how you like it.”

  Even in the dark he could see the flush on her cheeks—she’d become bold. Confident in the slight anonymity created by the inky night.

  “I like it when you’re naked,” he said.

  She pulled back, shrugging off the blanket and whipping her T-shirt—his T-shirt—over her head. Moonlight danced on her naked skin, her breasts bobbing as she shifted back into position. The visual banquet of her bare skin sent a fresh wave of excitement through him, making him grow harder still on her tongue.

  “I like it when you look at me.” He tilted her head back slightly, so her eyes were drawn up to him and she stilled. Those wide, blackened eyes were enough to drive him straight to the edge. He pumped slowly into her mouth, relishing the feel of his cock sliding along her tongue. “Keep watching, baby.”

  She blinked, her lips a tight ring around his girth. Shadows appeared when her cheeks hollowed out as she sucked him. The sight was too much; the sensation was too much. Everything about her was too fucking much.

  His tipped over the edge, unleashing all the tension in his body so that his bones felt like jelly. His fingers clutched at her hair, gripping her tight while he emptied himself into her mouth.

  …

  Stella woke to a raised voice coming from the lounge room. The haze of sleep had disoriented her and she groped around the bed, reaching for Evan. The last few days had been a blur of meetings, wine, and kissing…then more wine, and more kissing. A little sightseeing. Then there’d been sex…lots of sex.

  Oh, and one hell of a midnight blowjob.

  Humming at the memory, she rubbed a hand to her temple. She wanted to move but she felt like she’d been run over by a truck. Last night Evan had come home from his work in a bad mood—the sex had been different. Harder. More distant. Her head throbbed and her limbs ached. But, despite the change of pace, she felt satisfied beyond anything she’d ever experienced.

  Evan’s voice floated under the gap between the closed bedroom door and the wooden floorboards. He sounded angry…no, angry didn’t quite cut it. He sounded livid. She got out of bed and wrapped herself up in a blanket.

  “What do you mean the Carlisle Group is pulling out?” He thundered. “We signed that contract three weeks ago.”

  There was a pause while the poor person on the other end responded. Stella tiptoed to the kitchen and flicked the kettle on. Evan hadn’t noticed her yet.

  “We can’t afford to lose this contract.” His voice had dropped, now she had to strain to hear. “Matt, if we do… God, I don’t even know. I can’t deal with this right now, I have my eye on that estate, and I need my head in the game. Things are difficult enough as it is. Just deal with it.”

  He hung up the phone and let a string of expletives out under his breath. The mood in the apartment had shifted. Stella’s stomach was knotted tight, her chest heavy, her breathing shallow. Something was off, something she couldn’t quite put her finger on…and it seemed worse than just a contract problem.

  Evan fidgeted with his phone and paced around the apartment like an agitated lion. His shoulders were raised, tense. When he finally noticed her, two cold green eyes flicked over her as if she were just a lamp or a broom or some other unimportant object.

  “We should probably head back to the estate soon,” he said, looking out the window and grimacing. He kept his distance. “This weather’s not going to get any better.”

  At this stage, she didn’t have any other meetings lined up for the week. And there would be no problem doing them by phone if necessary. Unfortunately, she wasn’t having much luck finding a suitable buyer, and the longer she went on, the more she wondered if Evan might be the right person to take on the estate. The reason she hadn’t wanted to sell to him was because of their history—because she was being spiteful, really. But they were past that now.

  And as much as her mind protested, her heart was beginning to trust him.

  It would be good to get out of his apartment. She had some serious thinking to do and it was hard to keep her brain on the straight and narrow when she kept winding up in Evan’s arms.

  “That’s fine by me,” she said with a nod. She stood in front of the fireplace, warming herself in the glow of the flames as she watched him. He stayed on the other side of the room, pacing. “Is everything okay?”

  “Yeah, fine.” He bit the words out.

  “My bullshit detector is pretty good.” She went for a teasing tone but his expression remained stony. “Want to talk about it?”

  “This isn’t a relationship, Stella. I don’t have to talk about my feelings.”

  She blinked. The words stung like a slap across the face. “I’m just trying to be supportive.”

  “You could be supportive by making a decision about the estate.” His eyes were hard, emotionless. It was like staring into the eyes of a stranger.

  She hated feeling pressured. All her life the people around her had leaned into her, tried to manipulate her and force her to do what they wanted—her mother had tried to get her to sign over her assets. Her ex-fiancé had tried to get her to add his name to her properties.

  Why did everyone want something from her? Couldn’t she find someone in her life who was happy just to spend time with her without wanting something in return? Without wanting to be paid?

  “You mean by making the decision you want,” she said. “I told you, I need to think about it. It’s a big decision and I want to get it right. What’s so wrong about that?”

  “It’s not just about me.” He leaned forward. “I’m simply reminding you that you’re keeping a lot of people hanging in the balance while you enjoy yourself. You have to agree it’s kind of cruel.”

  “Cruel?” She took a deep breath, indignation shaking her composure. “That’s ridiculous. It’s not your place to pressure me into a decision.”

  He averted his gaze, focusing on the window and the trees thrashing outside. “So that’s it, you’re going to sell the estate to someone else?”

  “I might, or I might not. I have two more weeks to make up my mind.” Stella kept a check on her tone, watching for the steely edges of her defence mechanisms, the sharpness with which she drove people away. She wasn’t ready to give up what she’d shared with Evan yet. “Is that why you brought me here, to make me fall for you so I would change my mind?”

  By the way Evan’s lips flattened, she could tell she’d hit her mark. She’d never been one to tiptoe around a difficult conversation. Perhaps that was why she was both great at her job and terrible at being in a relationship.

  “I don’t like what you’re implying,” h
e growled.

  “I’m not implying anything.” Her hands trembled and she wrapped them into a neat parcel, clinging to the last shreds of self-control. “I’m asking you outright.”

  Had he slept with her just to break down her barriers so he could attack? He was a different person today, and she was sick of his to-ing and fro-ing. She’d taken a chance and made a mistake, but come hell or high water she’d learn from it. Just when she’d thought that perhaps shutting herself off from the world wasn’t the way to live, this happened. She’d been right all along.

  Men only got close to her because they wanted something.

  “If you really believe that then you don’t know me very well.” His jaw clenched, the muscles flexing as if he was grinding his teeth.

  “Does it matter what I think?” She shook her head. “From the second I arrived, you’ve been working an angle. I guess I got distracted by all the smooth moves, but you were probably counting on that weren’t you?”

  He rubbed the back of his neck, kneading the muscles there. “Pack your bags. We’ll leave in an hour.”

  She opened her mouth to retort but he’d already started to walk toward the front door. He grabbed his keys from the table behind the couch and left the apartment, letting the door shut with a soft snick behind him. The sound shot through her even harder than if he’d slammed it with a bang.

  “You knew that couldn’t go on forever,” she said to herself. “You’re not built for long-term and neither is he.”

  …

  Evan’s ignorant little bubble of happiness was about to burst. He should have known better than to rely on everything going according to plan, that wasn’t how his life worked. Sure, he usually managed to land on his feet, but he’d fought tooth and nail for each bit of progress.

  He stalked out onto the street. A walk might help him cool off enough to deal with the aftermath of his big fucking mouth. He’d taken Matteo’s bad news and thrown it at Stella. Projecting, a therapist had once called it.