Page 24 of Miss Christmas

“I wasn’t mocking you,” she said. It was only a half-lie. “And you know it.”

She wasn’t over the fact that he didn’t take her work seriously. Never would be okay with that. He could join the pathetic crowd of men who didn’t take her seriously and she hoped they all rotted in hell.

“I was pointing out what should be obvious. That I’m serious about my career. And you apparently find that a big joke.”

His eyes immediately softened and he let go of her wrists, instead wrapping an arm around her. It was tempting, against everything she was preaching now about the importance of her career, but she felt what she felt. And she felt far too tempted by Will, far too vulnerable to his distracting her from what mattered most. A jolt of fear at the threat to her long-held dream energized the chip on her shoulder to a mountain of indignation and she pushed him away.

“Scarlet, no,” he said, reaching out again, but she stepped away. “I know you’re serious about your career. In fact, you’re the most ambitious woman I’ve met in a long time.”

“You’re going to be very disappointed with me if you’re used to women falling all over you, being at your beck and call.”

“It’s not like that. I promise you. But you—”

“What about me?” She didn’t want to hear his assumptions about her, didn’t want to be disappointed, wanted to savor the connection they’d had, the blissful day and night, the shared intimacies, the time in a bubble. But the bubble, as they always did, had popped.

He stood mute. Pushing his hand through his hair, he turned away from her.

“You drive me crazy is all. I lost my head. It won’t happen again.” He grabbed up his pants as if they’d committed a crime lying on the floor and needed punishing as he pulled them on.

She had no idea what he meant. Whether he was expressing remorse or ending their affair. But the alarm on her phone went off and she realized she needed to move fast to get to work. This wouldn’t happen again. He was right.

A well of disappointment shadowed her, but before it could take shape, she shoved past it. In her head, if not her heart, she knew this affair was a bad idea. Most things that were too much fun usually were. It was the risk, the shot at the brass ring that had enticed her. Well, she had her brass ring—her not-to-be-forgotten night of blistering blissful sex with Will Impossible Dream Regal. He was too different with his privileged life behind him, and too much of a distraction from her purpose. He didn’t fit into her plans. And she seriously doubted she fit into his future either. It would be hard to turn away from the guaranteed hot pleasure they had. Not to mention the challenge of that Impossible Dream.

But she’d gotten over eating too many sweets and drinking too much wine, so she would get over the too-crazy, out-of-control need for sex with Will. And nothing could make her dwell on how she might get over his tenderness, his sense of humor, and the impossible possibility of him with her.

Dressing in less than five minutes, she left him in his bedroom still buttoning his shirt and walked through the hall to the entry and the door. She put her hand on the knob and slowed. Don’t stop now, Scarlet. You need to leave.

Will came up behind her, scaring the determination from her head. But she said her lines anyway.

“I have to leave now. It’s better this way.”

“That’s the trouble with you actors. You’re always so dramatic. I didn’t mean to end our affair so abruptly. Before we—”

“One more reason this is all such a magnificently big mistake.” He was right, to a point, about her embracing the drama. She could be as dramatic as the next diva when the moment called for it, but she was also as practical as her Midwestern roots. And she was leaving for practical reasons, whether he realized it or not.

She turned the knob.

“I’ll see you at the pageant workshop on Saturday.” He raised a brow. Point taken. They would need to deal with each other for a few more weeks. Damn. You’ll thank me someday, her usual parting line, hardly seemed right now.

Pulling open the door, she rolled her eyes and said, “Whatever.” Then she walked out.

* * *

Will felt surprisingly good considering that Scarlet had walked out on him. It wasn’t that he didn’t take her acting career seriously, but he was starting to recognize when she was acting. And her departure was an act. Sort of.

She had some good points. Mainly that they were all wrong for each other and he couldn’t argue with that. But his dick made an equally good argument. They had something. Chemistry. A connection. Whatever the label—and Will didn’t want to get into labeling how he felt—it was there.

Scary as hell and exciting as hell. Scarlet was like the baddest roller coaster ride he’d ever taken. The kind you’d heard stories about people dying on, planting enough of a seed of fear to put him in a constant shivering state.

And he wasn’t ready yet to get off the roller coaster.

As he finished putting on his tie, it was as if sparks of unfed lust flew from him. From the heat in his belly to the tightness of every muscle in his body, he was like an unexploded bomb waiting to be detonated. And Scarlet was the detonator.

Damn, was he in trouble.

How the hell would he get himself out of it?

He had a feeling jumping off this roller coaster would be painful.