The Billionaire’s Christmas Bride by L. Steele

8

5 mins later

Weston

"OMG, you’re such an ass."

She marches out of the house, slamming the door behind her. The crash reverberates through the living room. Max whines and runs to the exit. He scratches at the door, then barks and jumps up onto it.

"Hey buddy." I amble toward the puppy and scoop him up. He stares up at me with soulful eyes; a small whine catches in his throat.

“What?" I growl. "Why are you making those moony faces at me?”

What the—? Am I talking in some kind of puppy lingo with him? I mean, seriously.I scowl at him. "Don’t go thinking you can soften my heart or anything." I frown.

He blinks at me.

I angle my head.

He tips up his head and licks my face, my mouth…

"Hey—" I arch my neck, but am no match for the little guy’s persistent slobbering. A chuckle rumbles up my throat. Who’d have thought I’d be giving in to a mutt, of all things?

"You want me to go get her, huh?"

He licks his chops, and I swear, he jerks his little head.

"What the—?" I frown, ”You can’t understand me, can you?"

He pops his head on my shoulder, gazes at me with those soulful brown eyes, pleading, asking… Something hot stabs at my chest. That…is probably my ego having a cardiac. The fuck am I thinking? And I am supposed to be a heart surgeon. Duh. If anyone knows the ins and outs of that particular organ, it’s me, and here I am, imagining all kinds of ridiculous things. Blame it on the pup. Blame it on that sassy, little Buttercup, who had taken one look at the bedroom…and the queen-sized bed in there, and had thrown up her hands in disgust. She’d marched right out—still holding onto her handbag and that infernal satchel-like bag over her back, and banged the door shut.

"It’s not my fault. You know that, right?" I address the puppy. "She should have asked if there was a second bedroom. Hell, she could have asked to inspect the premises before agreeing." I frown. "Why hadn’t she?" I muse. "Why had she agreed so easily to the arrangement? I mean, sure, six mil is a lot… " I glower at the little dog, who stares back, unblinking. Had I wanted her to turn it down? Show me that she was different from the other women I’d dated so far? And what? I’d expected her to throw it in my face and walk out? I raise my shoulders.

Well, my conscience is clear, at least. I am more than compensating her for her time... Which begs the question, "What the hell had I been thinking when I’d asked her to stay? And accompany me for the Christmas visit to my family…?" I ask the mutt. It had seemed like a brilliant idea—two birds, one stone, and all that. And the little fact that we’d have to share the bed? Hell, I hadn’t thought of it until she’d walked into the room, but it’s going to make things entertaining, for sure, huh?

The puppy yawns.

"Thanks." My lips twist. "You sure know how to handle me, little bugger, huh?"

He licks my mouth again.

I wince. "Okay, not sure how I feel about that."

He whines again, wriggles in my hold. I put him down and he runs to the exit. I follow him, shove open the door, and he races down the steps to the parked car. He leaps on the door. She opens it, careful not to hurt him… He jumps inside. Through the darkness, I make out the two of them in the front seat.

I watch for a second longer. Is she wearing her coat? I don’t think she took it with her. So that means she is wearing that skimpy blouse…in the biting cold. At least, she had her boots back on.

I march inside, shrug into my coat, grab hers, then stalk to the car. I reach the passenger side, try the handle. it’s unlocked. The hell? I slip inside, drop the coat on the space between the seats, "You forgot this." I glare at her.

She pales, holds the puppy closer.

Max snuggles into her breasts, and stares at me.

His expression implies he’s got something I don’t. I scowl at him and he pants, tongue lolling. Is the damn mutt laughing at me? And now I’m jealous of a bloody puppy? The hell? Do I still have my balls?

I glare at her profile. "Why didn’t you lock the bloody door?" my voice booms out in the space.

Max whines.

She frowns. "Do you have a thing for scaring helpless puppies?"

"Not as much as for ensuring that sassy women don’t get themselves kidnapped."

"Who’s going to kidnap me here?" She waves a hand in the air.

"Things are not as safe as they seem."

She huffs, "You’re acting too dramatic."

"No, that’s you."

She strokes Max’s head and addresses him, "What are you doing here?"

"If you’re going to stay in the car, you may as well turn on the heater."

"It’s my car—"

"No mistaking that." I glance around the cramped space. My knees are almost doubled up in front of me. I lean down, grab the lever to push the seat back.

"What are you doing—?"

The grip comes off in my hand. I stare at it.

"Yeah… I was going to warn you..." Her voice trails off.

"Does this thing even start up?" I reach for the car keys, but she grabs them first.

"Stop insulting KITT."

I stare. "You named your car after—"

"Knight Rider." She nods, then brightens. "You know about the series?"

"This isn’t anything like that KITT," I growl.

"Shh," she pats the dash, "you’ll upset her."

"Of course, your car had to be female." A headache begins to drum behind my eyes.

"Why not? KITT isn’t the prerogative for a male name."

"What-fucking-ever." I massage my temples.

"You’re a sore loser."

"The only thing getting sore here are my knees."

"I know you're getting along in your years…but maybe you need to get that looked at."

I scowl.

Her lips kick up and her entire face brightens. Damn, when she smiles, her features resemble those of an angel… No. What? Hello, bloody Christmas spirit must be getting to me.

"I’m not old."

"You’re older than me."

"You’re what, twenty-five?" I snicker.

"If you wanted to know my age, you only had to ask."

"Like I bloody care?"

She purses her lips, "Don’t swear in front of the baby."

That’s when something inside of me snaps. Of all the annoying, getting-on-my-nerves, blonde-haired bombshells in the world… This…tiny, pint-sized, sassy-as-fuck, with the sexiest tits-that-I-want-to-suck-on-like-cotton-candy woman walks into my house… Yeah, my place… Mine. Hold on. The fuck am I calling mine? Her? The cabin … Yeah, that’s what I’m referring to. That’s all it is. It’s not about her… Not at all. Naw. Hold on… Did I compare her breasts to a treat…? Cotton candy? What the fuck? I reach forward, grab her shoulder.

She squeaks.

Max growls in his throat.

I shoot him a dirty look. Fucker changed camps, deserted me so easily... Wait until he comes looking for treats. Guess who wears the pants around here, you mutt!

Max whines.

"Hey," she hunches her shoulders over the puppy, "back off, you big bully."

"Not happening." I firm my grip on her. She winces but doesn’t back down. Hmm. This woman has a backbone, all right. I am going to take so much pleasure in breaking her down. "Get out of the car," I growl.

"No." She firms her lips.

"You have until I count to five."

"Whatever." She continues to pat the puppy’s head.

"Four." I set my jaw.

"Count faster." She rubs behind Max’s ears and the mutt makes a contented sound. Hell. How dare she ignore me…for a…a dog? She is fucking with my head, all right.

"Three." I lower my chin.

"Guess he knows his numbers, huh?" she sing-songs to the puppy.

My pulse begins to race.

"Two." I move in closer.

"I am soo scared," she simpers

Adrenaline spikes my blood. My pulse thuds at my temples, behind my eyelids, even in my fucking balls. "Don’t say I didn’t warn you," I lower my voice to a hush. She pales, a visible shudder running up her spine. Good.

"One." I apply just enough pressure so she turns to me.

"What are you doin—?" Her gaze widens.

I yank her toward me, puppy and all, lower my lips to her taunting mouth.