Page 30 of A Winter Wish

That scarred eyebrow shot up. “And you haven’t been getting out weapons?”

She rolled her eyes. “OK, fine. Truce.” She held out her hand and he took it. His fingers clasped around hers, his grip warm and firm. At her wrist, her pulse flared, like it was stretching to reach the end of his fingertips. She met his gaze, saw the amber flare. He didn’t let go right away, his thumb sliding over hers.

His gaze dropped to her mouth, his pupils seeming to grow blacker. When he looked back up, she felt her breath catch.

You do not like him, Lexie. But apparently, just because she didn’t like him, that didn’t mean she didn’t, right now, want to know what that mouth tasted like.

Had she pulled him closer? She didn’t remember doing it, but her free hand was on his arm, as if stopping him from leaving. Let go of his hand, Lexie.

But he was frowning at her now—a considering frown. And he was leaning toward her. Waiting. Like a dare. And even though there were a million reasons not to, it was her who closed the gap, unable to back down as she caught his mouth with hers.

And then she didn’t want to back down because her mouth was moving with his, and she could taste the lingering lemon, and something deeper, darker. She gripped his arm more tightly, her nails biting into the fabric of his coat, searching for skin underneath. His teeth caught her bottom lip, and goosebumps spread. And when he pressed her back against the door, she let out a half moan at the pressure of his body against hers. She felt a low, liquid pull in her core—just from a fucking kiss.

This is a terrible idea, Lexie.

But the voice was dim in her head, and there was the feel of his hands to contend with, on either side of her waist now, tugging her closer. At some point she must have moved her hands to his shoulders, because she could feel the muscle underneath there, and it made her want to hold on. His lips broke away from hers and she might have let out a growl of frustration, which turned into a soft groan as his lips skated over her jaw, down her neck, teeth just grazing her. She arched her spine, pressing into him, and his teeth bit harder down her throat as she did. Her hands were in his hair, and she was trying to tug him closer, even as his hands moved, skimming to the bottom of her coat, then up under it as she ran her hands down his back.

Distantly, she heard a nervous giggle down one end of the corridor. It was enough to jolt her back to reality and she pulled away from him in one violent motion, snapping her hands back to her sides. In the same moment he must have realized what they were doing too, remembered that it was her he was kissing, because he stumbled back, leaving cool air as a line between them.

There was a beat of silence, like they were both trying to figure out what had just happened. Then she cleared her throat. “Ah, so…”

He shook his head like he was trying to clear it. “Bad idea?”

“Yeah. Yeah, really bad idea.”

His eyebrows shot up. “I’ll do my best not to be offended by that.”

“You said it first. And besides, you and I don’t kiss.” She said it as firmly as she could manage.

“Hate to point out the obvious, but apparently we do.” His eyes were back on hers, inky black.

“You and I shouldn’t kiss.” It came out as barely a whisper though, and her breathing was still ragged, her skin hot and needy beneath the layers of clothing. Her body was playing catch-up to what her mind already knew—that this was Theo, that he was not someone to go around kissing in hotel corridors. Not someone to go around kissing anywhere, in fact. She bit her lip, saw him follow it with his gaze. And God, maybe it didn’t matter that they didn’t like each other, if he kissed like that.

Shit. Shit! This was a bad move, a very bad move. Kissing him more would be an even worse move. She couldn’t work out from the look in his eyes whether he thought the same.

He was looking at her mouth again as he said. “I think you should go into your room, Lexie.”

“What?” Come on, Lexie, keep up.

“Please.” His voice was a half plea, though his gaze was still on her mouth. “Please go into your room. We can talk about this tomorrow.” When she didn’t immediately react, he reached out, stuck his hand in her coat pocket. Her nerves jumped, skin sparking in anticipation. But he only took out her key card, opened her door, then practically shoved her through it. He backed away, pressing the key card into her hand, then let the door slam between them. She heard his heavy footsteps as he walked away down the corridor.

Numbly, she switched on her lights, shrugged off her coat. She tried to push it away. Tried not to think of how it had felt to have him pressed against her. You are not allowed to like kissing someone who hates you, Lexie. But she had liked it, hadn’t she?

Point fucking Theo.

Chapter Twelve

Lexie told herself not to overthink anything as she picked up her rucksack and headed downstairs to check out. She’d kissed plenty of men before—and she was a master at keeping things casual. She had literally never had a serious relationship in her life—if anyone could play this cool, she could. It had been a random moment of confusion, misreading adrenaline from their argument as chemistry, that was all. He’d said they would talk about it today, so they’d talk, no doubt put it behind them, and she would do her best to be polite and professional moving forward. Especially because she didn’t think that the two of them just ignoring each other from now on was going to work. The trip had gotten her thinking—no doubt Ange’s intention. She couldn’t just run from this. She wasn’t actually sure where that left her—and despite her restless night, when she’d been unable to stop her thoughts churning around, all she’d arrived at was that the current plan with Theo was not going to work.

She had an earlier flight than everyone else, so she was heading to the airport on her own—and as a result, it was only Mike and Theo waiting in reception to see her off. Her stomach lurched at the sight of Theo, despite what she’d told herself. She could only see the back of him, but that didn’t stop her mind immediately remembering what it had felt like to have his mouth on hers, how his fingers had dug into her waist, the feel of the length of his body against hers. Not useful, Lexie. She realized she was scowling and tried to smooth out her expression—scowling didn’t really lend itself to polite and professional.

Mike and Theo seemed to be having another hushed conversation as she crossed the sleek wooden floors, her pumps squeaking a little in a way that made her feel unnecessarily self-conscious. Whatever the two of them were talking about, it must have been very serious, given Mike’s expression. She couldn’t see Theo’s, but he had that stillness of intense focus. The stillness she’d felt last night, when his attention had been solely on her. Stop it, Lexie!

Mike only noticed her when she was right there, putting down her rucksack and fishing out her key card to hand in to reception, and he jumped in an almost comical way before pasting on a smile. They’d been talking about her, then. Or something they didn’t want her overhearing. Come to think about it, talking about her made a lot of sense—she’d have been talking about her too, if the situation were reversed. It didn’t matter, she told herself. They could think what they liked. She tried really hard to believe that as Theo spun to look at her. Unlike Mike, who she’d not seen out of a suit all weekend, he was wearing jeans and a long-sleeved dark blue T-shirt.

He gave her a little nod. “Lexie.”

“Theo.” It was so ridiculously formal that for a second, she wanted to burst out laughing—an entirely inappropriate reaction.