The Perfect Gift: A Christmas Billionaire Sexy Romance (Three Wise Men Book 1)

by Serenity Woods

  Her lips curved up a little. “I press your buttons?”

  He sighed. “You do, Miss Bloom. I hope it’s acceptable to say that.”

  “You’re being very generous,” she said. “I must sound terribly rude to you.”

  “Not at all. Matt’s already given me a lecture about the appropriateness of asking a woman I barely know to go away with me. I know I’ve made a faux pas and I’m sorry—if I had my time again I would have just asked you to dinner. Rest assured I meant well, and I just want you to have a nice break and a good time. The thing is, if you’ve changed your mind, I’d rather you say now. I won’t be upset. I can’t say I won’t be disappointed because I was looking forward to having dinner with you tonight, but I’ll understand. But if you decide to come with me, then maybe we can put this behind us, move on, and just have a nice evening.” He heard a hint of steel creep into his voice and he stopped talking. He didn’t want to spend the rest of the day apologizing for having money or for wanting to treat her on her birthday. Equally, he wanted her to feel comfortable, or what was the point?

  He wondered whether she’d be angry at his tone, but to his surprise a small smile played on her lips. “I know you meant well,” she murmured. “I’m just a bit nervous.”

  That surprised him. “Nervous?”

  She gave the little sexy shrug he was beginning to adore. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been on a date. I’ve forgotten the… protocol.” She wrinkled her nose.

  He smiled. She wore jeans and a white shirt, and she was as fresh and summery as the warm breeze blowing through the open window. “There’s no protocol,” he told her. “Not with me anyway. I just want you to be yourself. To have a good time.” He decided honesty was the best policy. “Look, there’s no doubt it’s strange for both of us. I haven’t dated anyone since Fleur died, and I have to admit I feel odd about it.”

  Erin’s expression softened. “Of course, I’m sorry, I didn’t think of that.”

  “Why would you? I know most people think it’s weird to have waited so long before getting back into the dating game. Charlie and Matt have been trying to get me to go out with girls for ages, but I just wasn’t ready, I guess.”

  “Are you ready now?” she asked softly. Her eyes were the color of the ocean behind her, a deep blue. The breeze lifted the strands of hair that had fallen out of her clip, and they fluttered around her face. Outside, the soothing wash of waves and the singing of cicadas were the only sounds to be heard. He felt as if time had paused, and even the birds were listening with bated breath to their conversation.

  “Part of me feels disloyal,” he admitted. “That people will think I don’t love her anymore, and that breaks my heart. But equally, I need something else in my life other than work. I can’t tell you how happy I’ve been over the last few days, waiting for my phone to buzz in my pocket to say you’ve texted. I’ve felt like a schoolkid, and it’s been good. I’ve felt alive again, and I want to keep on feeling alive.”

  “Okay,” she whispered. “We’ll take it slowly.”

  “Step by step,” he said. “Today, dinner in a nice restaurant to celebrate your birthday. And we’ll see how it goes.” He meant in the future—whether she’d want to see him again, but the mischievous light in her eyes told him she thought he was talking about what happened after dinner. “Erin,” he scolded.

  She pressed her lips together, trying not to laugh, but she wasn’t able to stop a giggle breaking out. “Your face is a picture,” she said.

  He shook his head. “You’re not the only one who doesn’t know the protocol.” He hadn’t even kissed a girl for over two years, let alone done anything more intimate than that.

  Her expression softened again as if she’d read his mind. “It must have been difficult for you, losing your wife. It’s bad enough when you’re seventy, but when you’re only… How old are you?”

  “Thirty-one.”

  “...thirty-one, I can only imagine how hard it must be. Brock, what you said about not expecting anything, it goes both ways. Whatever happens between us, if at any point you feel as if you want to slow down, I want you to say. I don’t want to make you feel bad.”

  He smiled at the sheer lunacy of that statement. “You don’t make me feel bad. Quite the opposite.”

  “I’m glad.”

  “In fact,” he said softly, his gaze dropping to her mouth, “I know it’s inappropriate this early on a date, and Matt would kill me if he could hear me, but all I can think about is how much I want to kiss you. Is that terrible?”

  Erin moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. “Well, maybe we should test the water, so to speak. Try it and see how we feel afterward.”

  “Maybe we should.” His heart thundered, but he told himself, Take it slow. He waited for a moment as she unclipped her seatbelt, and he inhaled the sweet summer breeze that filtered into the car, bringing with it the smell of the sea and the scent of sun lotion from Erin’s skin.

  She turned and moved forward a little in her seat, leaning an elbow on the rest between them, and tipped her head to the side as she met his gaze.

  Brock moved to meet her, resting one arm on the seat behind her, and lifted the other hand to cup her face. He brushed his thumb across her cheekbone, across the freckles that peppered her lightly-tanned skin, and lowered his mouth, stopping when his lips were a fraction of an inch from hers.

  Her breath whispered across his lips as she exhaled. So close, and yet he hadn’t kissed her yet. There was still time to stop, to put off this last, final betrayal. If he moved back now, he’d be able to tell himself he’d remained faithful to Fleur. He would have fought his weakness and stayed strong in his grief, encased in the shadows in which he’d hidden for the last two years.

  But the day was too beautiful, full of light and life. A couple of huge Red Admiral butterflies fluttered past the window, and a flash of color behind Erin told him a rosella had swooped over the grass. In the distance, the children of the family having lunch at the picnic table laughed as they threw a Frisbee to one another, and someone called out from the boat further down on the water. It was summer, and it was almost Christmas, a time to celebrate the birth of things, not the end.

  Erin was waiting patiently, maybe sensing his internal struggle, her gaze gently caressing his face. Her hand came up and she trailed a finger along his eyebrow, removing a strand of hair that the breeze had blown into his eye, and her touch—even though it was innocent and innocuous—was enough to flick a switch inside him.

  He let out the breath he’d been holding, a long slow sigh of acceptance.

  Erin’s lips curved up a little, and then she moved the last fraction of an inch to touch her lips to his.

  They were as soft and light as if one of the butterflies had brushed against him, the briefest of kisses, tentative and shy enough to make him melt.

  She moved back a little and met his gaze again as if to say, Okay?

  Brock felt as if he’d been kissed by summer itself. How could anything as beautiful as that be wrong?

  After giving a short, exultant laugh, he slid his hand into her hair, and lowered his lips again.

  This time he kissed her, moving his mouth across hers slowly but firmly, closing his eyes and enjoying the sensation of being near to someone again, being intimate. Her hair felt silky in his fingers, her cheeks warming beneath his palm as he continued to kiss her. She murmured low in her throat, a purr of approval, sliding her hand into his hair, and he shivered when she clenched her fingers in the short strands.

  It was a brief kiss, hardly a steamy smooch, and yet it was the most erotic thing that had happened to him in years. His blood raced around his body, and his jeans tightened as his erection miraculously sprang to life. He wanted to plunge his tongue into her mouth and deepen the kiss, pull her toward him and slide his hands under her white shirt, but this was only supposed to be a trial, a peck, a testing of the water.

  Startled at the speed of his arousal, he lifted his head
. His breaths came quickly and, to his surprise, she was breathing fast too. Her eyes fluttered open, and she swallowed, moistened her lips, and said, “Wow.”

  Chapter Nine

  Erin’s heart thundered like a set of tracks with the approach of a train. To her relief, Brock appeared to be similarly affected, his pupils dilated and his chest heaving with fast, deep breaths.

  “Yeah,” he said at her outburst. “Wow.”

  They both moved back, studying each other cautiously. Erin felt an urge to giggle, but held it in, afraid he was about to tell her he felt too disloyal and he was going to have to take her home.

  He didn’t though. Instead, he gave a mischievous smile. “That was nice.”

  “Mmm.” Understatement of the year, she thought. “It didn’t make you feel bad?”

  He laughed and looked out of the window, scratching the back of his neck. “No, Erin, it didn’t make me feel bad.” He turned back to face the wheel, started the engine, then gave her an exasperated, slightly apologetic look as he shifted in the seat and adjusted his jeans. “Sorry.”

  This time the laughter wouldn’t be stopped. She clapped her hand over her mouth, but it burst from her in infectious giggles.

  “Yeah, you can laugh,” Brock said wryly as he pulled away. “It’s unfair that men can’t hide their… feelings like women can. And put your seatbelt on.”

  She clipped it in, still chuckling, feeling a burst of happiness brighter than she’d felt for years. “Thank you so much for this. Even if we were to turn around and go home now, I’ve had a wonderful time.”

  He laughed and reached out to take her hand. “Well that’s a good start. Let’s try to carry that feeling through to tomorrow, eh?”

  She smiled and squeezed his fingers, and he squeezed them back before releasing her hand to hold the wheel.

  Looking out of the window again, she pressed the button to lower it right down so she could feel the warm summer breeze across her face, and closed her eyes.

  “I can put the air con on if you want,” he reminded her.

  “I prefer having the window open,” she said without opening her eyes. “Like a dog. I’d hang my tongue out if I could.” She heard him laugh and smiled, breathing in the fresh Kiwi air.

  She hadn’t expected the kiss. And what a kiss it had been… It had felt as sensual and erotic as if they’d been naked in bed together. Erin shivered at the thought. For the first time, she felt that if the evening ended that way, maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad thing after all…

  “There it is.”

  Erin opened her eyes to see a slope leading down to the exclusive Paua Cliffs hotel overlooking the glistening Pacific Ocean. She’d seen a TV feature on it once. They’d said movie stars often had their honeymoons there. She’d never been anywhere like it.

  Brock was right though—if she was going through with this, she had to deal with the fact that he was loaded. Even rich guys had to date, and it wasn’t his fault that she wasn’t used to having money. He could have picked some diamond-studded bimbo to take out, but he hadn’t, he’d picked her, and he didn’t deserve to have her getting on her high horse every five minutes, acting noble and refusing to accept his generous gift. She had to move on. She’d been given a fantastic opportunity and a wonderful birthday present, and it would be rude to keep bringing up how much he’d spent.

  “It’s beautiful,” she said, meaning it. The white buildings had terracotta-colored roofs that glowed warmly in the sunlight. A huge golf course lay spread out to the west, while to the east the Pacific sparkled like tinsel.

  “It’s a nice place by all accounts.” Brock signaled and took the turnoff, heading down the long drive to the buildings.

  “You haven’t been here before?”

  “No. Never got around to it.”

  For some reason that pleased her. She had no issues with him having been married before, and she was touched to be the first woman he’d come close to dating. But it was nice to know he hadn’t brought his wife here.

  The road snaked alongside the golf course and up to the complex of buildings. “What a beautiful day.” Erin lowered her sunglasses against the glare of the bright December sun.

  “Warmest December for five years apparently.” Brock headed the car around the looping drive to the building marked Reception, parked, and turned off the engine. “Let’s check in, and then we can head up to our rooms for a look around. Maybe after you’ve settled in, you’d like to go for a walk down to the beach?”

  “That sounds lovely.” Erin got out with him, shut the door, and hesitated. “Should I get my bag now?”

  “Someone will bring them up to the rooms shortly,” he advised with a smile.

  Erin had never had someone carry her bags up for her before. Her cheeks warmed. “Oh.”

  Brock grinned and held out a hand. “You’ll soon get used to it. Come on.”

  She walked forward and took his hand, a tingle descending her spine at the feel of his warm skin on hers. “I should have dressed up a bit, sorry. I didn’t think.” Not that she looked skanky, but her white shirt and faded jeans had seen better days.

  “You look gorgeous,” he said as they walked into the foyer. “But it wouldn’t matter what you wore. This is New Zealand, remember? There will be guys eating dinner tonight wearing shorts and a T-shirt, I’m telling you.”

  “Oh, I have a nice dress for dinner,” she said as they crossed the elegant tiled floor to the main desk.

  Brock raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

  “Mmm.” She felt a surge of naughtiness at his sudden interest. “Quite low and revealing. I hope it doesn’t put you off your meal.”

  They stopped at the desk, and for a brief moment she could see she’d completely thrown his concentration. He stared at her, then stared at the receptionist as he struggled to remember what he was doing there. “Um… Ms. Erin Bloom and Dr. Brock King checking in, please.”

  “Of course sir.” The receptionist tapped in their names. “Two luxury rooms with sea views?”

  “That’s right.” Brock slid his credit card across to her and took the paper to sign.

  Erin tried not to let her jaw drop. Not only were they staying at Paua Cliffs but they were in luxury rooms. What did that mean? Was everything plated gold? Were there slaves waiting inside to fan her with giant palm leaves?

  It wasn’t quite that luxurious, but it wasn’t far off. A young man dressed in a dark gray uniform collected their bags and took them out of the foyer and across a courtyard to a row of long, low buildings. He stopped outside one and opened it with a key, then stood back to let Erin pass.

  She walked into the room, and this time couldn’t stop her jaw dropping. It was all open plan, one enormous room, easily as big as her house. The whole front wall was made from glass panels with a magnificent view of the bay. Outside the large glass sliding doors in the center, a generous deck housed a table and chairs and, in the corner, a large hot tub that would easily fit two people.

  Trying not to think about climbing into bubbling water with a tall, muscular billionaire, she looked past it to the private, fenced grassy bank leading down to the hotel’s sandy beach. The Pacific Ocean beckoned invitingly, the same color as the baby-blue summer sky.

  She was half aware of Brock standing in the doorway, leaning against the wall and watching her with a smile while she turned and investigated the room. To the left was a living room area with a cream suite, a TV that must have been at least fifty inches from corner to corner, and a chrome-and-glass table and chairs. The whole floor was made from rich red rimu wood, polished to a high shine. Large green ferns and simple paintings of seascapes on the walls provided an elegant touch of color. There was also a small kitchen far to the left near the table and chairs with all the modern conveniences a woman could need, should she be mad enough to want to cook her own meal and not eat out like most normal people.

  To the right, a huge bed faced the view, with white and red pillows and a luxurious white duvet, and sur
rounded by four posts from which hung gorgeous shimmering drapes to provide privacy—not that it was needed, as nobody would be able to see in from the beach.

  She’d have to take loads of photos or Caitlin would never believe her!

  The porter disappeared to take Brock’s case into the room next door. Brock pushed himself off the doorjamb and walked toward her.

  “Do you like it?” His smile told her he’d guessed her answer.

  “It’s beautiful.” Laughter burst from her. What an understatement! Nothing in this place would be missing, chipped, or dirty like in some of the cheap motels she’d stayed in. Everything would be clean, polished, and in perfect working order. “I don’t know what to say. It’s amazing. It’s like somewhere the Queen of England would stay.”

  He grinned and glanced around. “Yeah, it’s pretty fancy.” His gaze came back to her, and he tipped his head. “Too fancy?”

  Erin took a deep breath. She wasn’t going to bring up the subject of money again. “It’s wonderful. I’m absolutely thrilled, Brock. Thank you.”

  Pleasure lit his face. “Okay then.” A hint of relief crossed his features—he really had expected her to say she couldn’t accept it and leave. “Well, I’ll leave you to settle in for a while.” He checked his watch. “It’s just gone four. Is thirty minutes long enough for a rest? We could go for a walk for an hour or so, then come back and have a little while to get ready for dinner at seven.”

  “That sounds lovely.”

  “Right, see you in a bit.” He winked at her. “Don’t forget, this is your birthday treat. Help yourself to the mini bar or order room service—whatever you want. Make the most of it. But it’s a five star restaurant and seafood is their specialty so you want to make sure you’re hungry.”