A Hamilton Family Christmas - Donna Kauffman Page 0,54

will use to invest in new stock.” She stood there, hands clasped, hat perfectly perched on her smooth gray bun, gaze focused steadily on Holly. Unflinching.

Holly marshaled all of her advertising client toughness and held the gaze just as unflinchingly. “I’m definitely willing to consider it. If you could give me a day or two, we’ll sit down and talk details.”

This didn’t meet with immediate approval, if the slight downturn of her pursed lips was any indication, but, after a moment, she nodded. “Very well then. I’ll wait for your call.” She gathered her gloves and scarf and buttoned her coat. Once she was bundled, Holly saw her to the door, where she paused and looked back at Holly once again. “There are other buildings with leased space available. I want this space, this building, as I know all of its quirks. And I know you. But don’t keep me waiting. I’m not getting any younger. And I’ve waited long enough to pursue my passion.” With that, she stepped through the door and walked off down the street.

Holly stood there, partly dumbstruck, partly amused…mostly stunned. Could the solution be so simple? She stepped back into the store, her mind already swimming with all the things that could unsimplify it. Did she want to be a landlord? Would living in London make that impossible? How long would it take to sell off the unwanted inventory…and how in the hell would she come up with the appropriate lease agreement?

She was just closing the door when she heard someone shout her name. She looked up to see Sean trotting across the street, a broad smile on his handsome face…and a Gallagher’s take-out box in his hand.

Her heart did that slow, melting slippy-slidey thing and her pulse rate tripled.

“Hey,” he said, all big and room-swallowing as he slipped inside the door. She closed it behind him, blocking out the winter chill…and blocking in something that was definitely providing a lot of heat.

“Hey, yourself,” she said, trying to make the mental switch from business to…well, there was no denying the surprise was a pleasurable one.

“I brought lunch, but that was mostly an excuse.”

“Excuse?” She locked the door, then turned and looked up at him just as he set the box on the closest shelf and took a step closer to her.

“I’ve been thinking about this all day. Night, too, if I’m being honest.”

“Thinking about what?”

“This.” He slid a warm palm along her cheek, sunk his fingers into her hair, and tipped her face up to his. “I know your future plans aren’t certain,” he said, his voice a deep rumble that sent a series of the most tantalizing shivers down her spine. “But I already lived with the regret of not pursuing you once. I don’t want to make that mistake again.” And then he kissed her.

And her knees buckled, and she grabbed hold of him.

And kissed him back.

Oh, wonderful. More things that weren’t going to be simple.

6

This was either the best idea he’d ever had, or one of his worst mistakes in the making. At the moment, with her fingertips sliding up the back of his neck and her sweet body pressing fully against his, it was feeling like his most brilliant decision ever.

He scooped her up, lifting her off her feet and bringing her face up more evenly with his own so he could take the kiss even deeper. He moved them farther into the store, backwalking her until they reached the front counter by the register. He slid her onto the smooth glass surface, then pulled her back toward him, hands on her hips as he moved between her legs, urging her to open to him as he slid his hands up her spine, then lost them again in that silky waterfall of hair. Why on earth had he waited so long to do this?

She was making these tiny little guttural noises in the back of her throat that were doing insane things to his body. Namely making him so rock hard it was almost painful to stand, but then she was tucking her feet around the back of his thighs, pulling him closer. And now he was the one groaning as she snuggled herself perfectly around him. It was sensation overload, on every level.

Their kissing was escalating as rapidly as his pulse rate and he knew it was only a matter of time—seconds at the rate they were going—before clothes were going to get yanked off and things were going to