The job would be a lot easier if she didn’t miss him desperately on the nights he wasn’t here. All she’d wanted these past couple days was to see his smile over morning coffee.
Sometimes, when they were having breakfast, Stella would look across the table at him, and her chest would feel like it was about to explode with fullness. So much of her life had been spent working toward a goal, on chasing some form of better or more that she could never quite reach. In those moments, though, when she looked at Linus, she didn’t need to chase anything. The feeling was addictive and terrifying.
That’s why she said no to spending Christmas together. It was clear to her that she was getting a little too attached to Linus. To see him smiling at her from across a family dinner table... God knew what effect that would have on her.
In the other room, she could hear the video chat wrapping up. Not wanting to be rude, she pasted on a smile and went back to say merry Christmas.
“Well, this makes a very merry Christmas indeed,” her father said upon ending the call. “Always enjoy hearing the kids’ good news. I can’t wait to tell Donny. Maybe now he’ll stop yapping about Dougie’s pediatrics practice.”
“Janice will be beside herself,” Rose added. “Her daughter has always had a crush on Joe.”
“Joe’s always had a crush on Joe.”
“Did you say something, Stella?”
“No, Mom.”
“Those two are really making a mark in this world. I couldn’t be prouder. You know what it is? It’s because they’re focused. They know what they want, and they don’t stop until they’ve achieved it. They don’t let a little adversity slow them down.”
“No, they don’t,” Stella said. She added her father’s speech to the list of things she’d heard before. Best to simply agree. Anything less would sound defensive, and as her parents were quick to point out, praising her older siblings didn’t mean they were slighting her. Except they were.
“Are you expecting someone?” her mother asked when the doorbell rang.
“Not really.” Hoping, but not expecting. She could kick herself for the way her pulse quickened. Couldn’t she get through a week without needing to see the man?
She could give herself a double kick for the butterflies taking flight in her stomach when she looked through the peephole.
She flung open the door. “Merry Christmas,” he greeted.
“Mer—” Before she could finish, he had pulled her into the hall and was kissing her. He tasted like fresh air and peppermint. Needing more, she pressed herself against him, her leg hooking around his in a quest to get closer. They were putting on an indecent show, but she didn’t care.
“Merry Christmas yourself,” she whispered when they finally parted. “Do you greet everyone who answers their door like that?”
He brushed the hair from her cheek. “Only the really gorgeous ones,” he replied. “Can be a bit awkward if their spouse is home.”
“Or their parents,” she said, untangling herself. Her body protested at losing his warmth. “They’re going to wonder what I’m doing outside. This is a very nice surprise. I wasn’t expecting you to come by tonight.”
“I...” There was that shadow again. The concern she wanted more. “I wanted to wish you a happy Christmas. Doesn’t pack quite the same result on December 26.”
“No, it does not.” It was a struggle not to grab him by the lapels and start kissing again. Stella had no idea how badly she’d missed him—that is, she knew she’d missed him a lot, but she’d had no idea how much a lot really was. It was like a switch inside her had been turned off and his arrival turned it back on.
Not good. Not good at all. She was going to have to do something about her attachment.
“Did you want to come in?” she asked, before quickly adding, “You don’t have to stay long. I know it’s late, but my parents—well, my mother, really—will want to know who rang the doorbell, so it might help if you stuck your head in and said hello. Nothing big. I’m not expecting you to stay.” The last thing she wanted was for him to feel forced into a “meet the parents” scenario.
“Because it’s late,” he said.
“Exactly, and I’m sure you’re tired after chasing your niece around all day.”
“Not so tired that I can’t step inside for a moment.”
“Really?” Could she sound any more eager? “I mean, great.”
The two of them stepped inside to discover her parents standing in the center of the living room. Her mother was holding Toffee. Her father was frowning.
“Everything all right, Stella?” he asked.
When did time revert back to high school? Her parents were staring at her like she’d missed curfew, and her heart was racing like a girl on her first date.
Stella took a deep breath. “Everything is fine. This is my...” She stumbled for the right word. “Neighbor, Linus Collier. He stopped by to say merry Christmas. Linus, these are my parents, Kevin and Rose Russo.”
Linus had never met a woman’s parents before. Family introductions carried implications. They were a benchmark that implied you were no longer dating, but rather a couple. He and Stella were neither, and yet, he had to wipe his palm on his pants before shaking Stella’s father’s hand.
Kevin Russo was tall and barrel-chested, with a thick head of silver hair. He had the calloused handshake of a man who worked hard and the cashmere sweater of one who was reaping the benefits. His wife, Rose, looked like an older version of Stella, only with salt-and-pepper hair.
“Merry Christmas,” she greeted. “It’s nice to meet you. Stella didn’t tell us she was friendly with her neighbor.”
He didn’t even warrant a mention. Linus tried not to let his disappointment show. “Well, we are the only two people on the floor.”
“Linus and I are running partners,” Stella explained. “That’s how I know my way around London. He’s been running me all over the city.”
“Bit of a rabbit, she is. I’ve taken more than a few seconds off my time keeping up.”
“Liar,” Stella said. “I’m the one working to keep up with him.”
They took seats in the living room, Stella’s father taking the large chair by the tree. Linus drank in Stella’s appearance. She looked magnificent tonight in a black turtleneck and watch plaid skirt. The hem was short enough he could see a glimpse of thigh when she crossed her legs.
“My children are all athletes,” Kevin was saying. “Our eldest, Camilla, ran track in college. The four-forty.”
“Four hundred meters,” Stella supplied.
“Impressive. Good for her.” Stella had already told him, along with the fact that she—unlike her sister—didn’t run in college.
Meanwhile, Stella caught him checking out her thighs and winked. He wondered what her father would say if he knew that while he was singing his eldest daughter’s praises, Linus was thinking about running his hands along the inside of the man’s youngest daughter’s legs.
“Are you enjoying your trip to London?” he asked. “I’m guessing Stella has shown you all the highlights.”
“Couldn’t ask for a better tour guide,” Rose replied. No surprise there. Stella had spent the week before their arrival staying awake late into the night, searching for tourist tips. “Of course, Kevin and I have been to London several times, but we liked getting her perspective. It’s been nice seeing how she’s getting along after... I mean, over here.”
“From the looks of things, I’d say she’d doing quite well,” Linus said. “At least she seems put together when I see her getting the mail. Are you failing at anything we don’t know about?”
“If I am, my lips are sealed.” She grinned, and damned if his insides didn’t get turned around. He had to cross his legs to keep his arousal at bay.
“Has Stella told you about Dame Agnes’s vast collection of memorabi
lia? The woman was quite a character.”
“We guessed that when she left all the money to that one.” Rose tipped her head toward Toffee, who was sniffing the Christmas tree branches.
“Creative types. They don’t think like the rest of us, do they?” Kevin said. “I always told my kids, make sure you go into something practical like law or medicine.”
“Or business,” Linus interjected.
“Or business. I never met anyone who made money majoring in history or the arts.”
“What do you do for a living, Mr. Collier?” Rose asked.
Linus wanted to tell her a job that involved history or the arts, especially after the way Stella looked down at her hands at her father’s comment, but he didn’t want to cause an argument. “I’m a chemist.”
“See? Science. A good practical major. Camilla, that’s Stella’s sister, majored in biology. She’s a neurosurgeon now.”
He went on for several minutes about Stella’s siblings and their careers. Good, practical careers. Linus nodded and showed the appropriate appreciation, all the while waiting for the man to get to his youngest.
Across the way he could see Stella folding in on herself, the weight of her father’s obliviousness bearing down on her. Her mother was no better. Her attention to her daughter focused on Stella playing the proper hostess. Twice she interrupted to suggest Stella get him coffee or a cocktail.
He wasn’t sure he liked the Russos. He didn’t care how big the chip on Kevin Russo’s shoulder over dropping out of school was.
“Sounds as though you’ve raised three successful children,” he said.
“That’s always been my goal,” Kevin told him. “To make sure my kids had the chance to accomplish everything I never had the chance to do. Of course,” Kevin continued, “Stella’s real career is in New York. Corporate finance. She won’t be doing this job forever. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”
Stella’s smile looked strained as she nodded. At least he didn’t call her a pet sitter. He might have been tempted to consider Russo’s words a warning about getting serious with his daughter, but he doubted the man thought him a threat. He was too secure in his knowledge that Stella would be returning to New York. To “have the chance” to do everything he hadn’t accomplished.
And why shouldn’t he be confident? Stella bloody flew them here to impress them.
Meanwhile the man was busy bragging about everyone but her. The man had a beautiful, smart, amazing daughter sitting five feet away, and he couldn’t see her. Took all of Linus’s willpower not to strangle Kevin Russo’s thick neck. Or, at the very least, to tell him to take his aspirations and stuff them.
“Toffee, no!” Stella clapped her hands, startling everyone in the room. She was answered by an annoyed-sounding meow and the tinkling of glass.
“Sorry,” she said. “Toffee’s obsessed with one of the bird ornaments on the tree. I caught her trying to climb the branches the other day.”
It was the break in the conversation he needed. Linus stood up. “On that note, I think I’ll say good-night.”
“Do you have to go?” Stella asked.
He both loved and hated the disappointment in her voice. “I’m afraid so. Maddie ran me ragged. My niece,” he added for her parents’ benefit. “It was a pleasure meeting you both.”
Stella walked him to the door. When they were far enough from the living room, she slipped in between him and the door. “Are you too tired for a visitor later?” she asked. “I was hoping to bring by a little Christmas present.”
God, but he loved when her voice turned husky. He dropped his gaze to her lips. “I could be persuaded to stay awake for a bit.”
“Good. I’ll be by as soon as I can.”
As she spoke, she ran her finger down his stomach to his belt and crooked a finger into his waistband. Linus sucked in his breath, his head suddenly filled with what he might do under his Christmas tree.
“I’ll leave the door unlocked,” he whispered.
Tiny Tim could bless everyone if he wanted; Stella blessed jet lag. It meant she only received a short inquest following Linus’s departure. Her mother wanted to know why she hadn’t mentioned Linus before while her father treated her to another lecture on focus. Finally, they declared themselves exhausted and, after thanking her for a wonderful Christmas dinner, headed to bed.
Stella waited until the light underneath their door disappeared before tiptoeing to the living room in her bare feet. Sneaking out of the apartment made her feel like a teenager, the illicitness adding an extra layer of excitement. She paused long enough to grab a small box from beneath the tree and then slipped out the door.
Just as Linus had promised, the door was unlocked. Linus’s apartment was a mirror image of hers, only decorated with a more masculine taste. She stepped inside to find the apartment dark, except for the Christmas tree. The evergreen bathed the grays and blacks in red light. A fire crackled in the gas fireplace.
“Linus?”
“Merry Christmas, love.”
His voice wrapped around her like a warm caress. Turning around, she saw him in the easy chair by the fire, his clothes shed in favor of his paisley robe. His bare chest looked pink by the light. Her fingers itched to comb through the exposed hair.
“Brought you something to unwrap,” she said, holding up the package in her hand.
“Lucky me. I love unwrapping things.”
“What a coincidence. So do I.” Smiling, she swayed toward him, and climbed on the chair, one knee at a time. Reaching down, she gave the belt of the robe a tug. The silk half knot fell loose easily. “See?”
“I thought I was supposed to be doing the unwrapping?” Linus’s voice was thick and heavy with promise. Stella melted a little more. Her breathing quickened as Linus slipped his hands beneath her skirt and brushed her skin. Slowly, lightly, his fingers skimmed upward. When he reached the apex, his eyes widened.
“Silly me,” Stella said, leaning forward. “Looks like I forgot the wrapping paper.”
They didn’t talk after that.
CHAPTER TEN
LATER, THEY LAY beneath the Christmas tree, Stella resting on top of him, Linus’s robe draped over her back like a blanket. She kissed the hollow of his throat, the taste of salt coming away on her lips. When she was in his arms, her parents, their expectations, the shadow of her insecurity, all faded away. In these moments she felt competent.
No, she felt special. Lucky.
Was this how his other lovers felt? Did he make the world disappear for them as well? The power he possessed frightened and amazed her.
“Penny for your thoughts?” Linus’s voice vibrated in his chest.
“I’m thinking every Christmas should end this way.”
“Naked and under a tree?”
“Mmm...” With limbs too boneless to move.
“I’ll make a note for the future.”
Only Stella wouldn’t be here. She’d be in New York while he lay with someone else. She pushed the thought away. Thoughts of the future made her chest squeeze.
“I should go back soon,” she said instead. “My parents will expect me in the apartment when they wake up.”
“We still have time. There’s no rush.”
“If I stay here too long, I’ll fall asleep.”
“So?”
“So...” She lifted her head. “Your floor isn’t as comfortable as a bed.”
“Then we’ll switch to my bed.”
“Then I’ll never leave.”
“Damn, you’ve discovered my evil plan.”
Stella yelped as he suddenly flipped their positions. Their bodies aligned naturally, her legs parting as he settled between them.
“I guess a few more minutes won’t hurt,” she managed to say, just before his mouth claimed hers. As always happened, she lost herself in the kiss.
>
Linus was in the process of kissing his way down her sternum when a flash of red caught her eye. Largely because her back was arched. It was enough, however, to bring her back to the present. “Your present. I forgot all about it.”
“I thought I already opened my present. In fact, I was thinking of opening it again.” He tried to resume his kissing.
Stella gave him a playful shove. “Your real present, silly. I dropped the box by the chair when we were otherwise occupied. I want you to open it before I leave.”
Ignoring his exaggerated sigh, she scrambled out of his arms to retrieve the package. As she turned around, she caught him staring at her. “What?”
“You’re beautiful,” he said.
“I’m a mess.” Her hair was tussled. Her makeup had to be smudged. And, she was kneeling bare-ass naked, her skin bathed in red Christmas lights.
“I happen to love messes,” he said.
She looked at the box in her hands. A figure of speech. He didn’t actually mean the words. They weren’t... Well, they just weren’t.
“Here.” She held the box. “I know we didn’t discuss getting presents, but...”
“Wouldn’t feel right not to exchange gifts on Christmas,” he finished.
“Precisely. Go ahead. Open it.” She held her breath as he peeled off the paper. It had taken hours of web surfing and inner debate before she found what she hoped was an appropriate gift. Something of substance. Not too personal. Not too impersonal.
“A Swiss watch.”
“A scientist’s watch. At least that’s what the ad said. It’s antimagnetic. Durable, too. We’ll have to see, since I dropped the box on the carpet.”
Linus took the watch from the box and ran his fingers across the face. The shadows made his face unreadable.
“Do you like it?” she asked.
“It’s...lovely.”
“I’m glad.” Her shoulders relaxed. “There’s a note, too. At the bottom of the box.”
A Year With the Millionaire Next Door Page 12