This time, his kiss was gentle and deep, wistful as a whisper. Could this really be happening? Was she dreaming? Or could she be totally drunk on half a glass of champagne?
Her heart filled with longing as his powerful body enveloped hers.
“Come home with me,” he murmured against her lips.
She sucked in her breath, looking up at his handsome, shadowed face. “It’s Christmas Eve...”
His dark gaze burned through her. “There’s no one else I’d rather have in my arms when I wake on Christmas morning.” His hand slowly traced down her cheek to the edge of her throat to her shoulder shivering beneath the oversize tuxedo jacket. “Unless you don’t want me...”
Her—not want him? Just the ridiculousness of that suggestion made her gasp. “You can’t think that...”
His shoulders relaxed, and his dark eyes met hers. “Then live like we’re alive.”
Live like we’re alive. What a strange thing to say.
He was right, she’d followed the good-girl playbook her whole life, Holly thought suddenly. What had being sensible and safe and good ever done for her, except to leave her working overtime for free for a manipulative boss and sacrificing all her dreams to spoil her little sister—only to feel used and taken for granted by both?
“Say yes,” Stavros urged huskily, stroking his hands slowly through her hair. “Come away with me. Be free.”
A Rolls-Royce pulled up to the curb. She looked at him, her heart pounding.
“Yes,” she breathed.
A trace of silvery moonlight caressed the edge of his sculpted, sensual lips as he drew back to make sure she meant it. “Yes?”
“Let’s live like we’re alive,” she whispered.
Glancing back at the waiting car, he held out his hand. “Are you ready?”
Holly nodded, her heart pounding. But as she took his hand, she didn’t feel ready. At all.
As she sat next to him in the back of the limo, she barely noticed the driver in front. She didn’t notice anything but Stavros beside her. The journey seemed like mere seconds before they pulled in front of a famous luxury hotel in Midtown.
“This is where you live?” Holly said, looking up at the skyscraper.
He smiled wryly. “You don’t like it?”
“Of course I do, but...you live in a hotel?”
“It’s convenient.”
“Oh.” Convenient? She supposed her shabby one-bedroom walk-up in Queens was convenient, too. She only had to change trains once to get to work. “But where is your home?”
He shrugged. “Everywhere. I travel a lot. I prefer not to keep permanent live-in staff.”
“Right.” She nodded sagely. “I prefer that, too.”
His lips quirked, then he turned back toward the glamorous hotel, all decorated and sparkling with Christmas lights.
“Mr. Minos!” a uniformed doorman called desperately, rushing to hold open the door. “Thank you again. My wife hasn’t stopped crying since she opened your Christmas card.”
“It was nothing.”
“Nothing!” The burly man swore under his breath. “Because of your Christmas gift, we can finally buy a house. Which means we can finally start trying to have a baby...” His voice choked off.
Stavros briefly put his hand on the burly man’s shoulder. “Merry Christmas, Rob.”
“Merry Christmas, Mr. Minos,” he replied, unchecked tears streaming down his face.