A Fool's Gold Christmas (Fool's Gold #9.5)(11)

Knowing her, she would accept the price she’d had to pay to get him on the right road. Something he could never accept or forgive in himself. He supposed that made her the better person. Hardly a surprise.

“It’s Christmas,” he said. “Think of this as me getting in the spirit.”

“You don’t like Christmas spirit.”

“Maybe helping you will change my mind.” He shrugged. “You know you can’t do it alone. Accept the inevitable and say thank you.”

She drew in a breath. “I know I can’t do it alone, and for what it’s worth, I trust you.”

“I think there’s a compliment buried in there.”

“There is. Thank you.”

He smiled. “Was that so hard?”

“You have no idea.”

“Then while you’re still wrestling with your personal growth, let me add, your brother invited me to Thanksgiving dinner.” He braced himself for her rant.

“Good. I was hoping for a big crowd.”

Unexpected, he thought. “Should I ask why?”

“No. You should assume I’m just one of those friendly types who loves humanity.”

“Your recent resistance to me helping aside.” He leaned against her desk.

“Yes.”

“And your feelings on humanity?”

“Okay in small groups.” She held up a piece of paper. “I was visited earlier by one of the moms. Patience. She swears there really can be a work party to restore my sets.”

“Good. We’ll make the list of what needs fixing and get it organized.”

He studied her. From what he could tell, she wore her hair up for her lessons—two braids wrapped around her head. But now, with her work done for the day, she’d left it loose. Wavy strands of honey-blond hair fell past her shoulders and halfway down her back.

He would bet she had soft hair, he thought, imagining her bending over him. He could practically feel the cool silk in his fingers. She would be all muscle, he thought absently. Long legs. Incredibly flexible.

“Dante?”

He blinked himself back into the room. “Sorry.”

She tilted her head, her mouth curving into a smile. “Want to tell me where you went?”

“Nope.”

“Are you going to help me?” She paused. “Go with me to look at the sets?”

Was that what they’d been talking about? “Sure. When do you want to do that?”

“You weren’t listening at all, were you?”

“Not even a little.”

“At least you’re honest about it.” She folded her arms across her chest. “Now. I suggested we go now.”

“Works for me.” He studied her, wondering how much trouble he would get in for kissing her, and knowing it would be worth it. “Here’s the thing.”

She raised her eyebrows. “You’re putting conditions on helping me? You’re the one who insisted.”

“No. I’m telling you that when I said I was a player, I wasn’t kidding. I never get serious. I don’t do relationships and I’m not the guy you take home to meet the parents.”

“You’re already having dinner with my mother on Thanksgiving.”

“That’s different. It’s not a date.”

She tilted her head. “You’re warning me off.”

“Yes.”

“I haven’t expressed any interest in you. Is this your ego talking? Are you assuming that a woman can’t be in the same room with you without begging for your attention?”

“I wish, but, no.”

Her gaze was steady. “You’re going to make a move.”

“Most likely.”

One corner of her mouth turned up. “Announcing it up front isn’t exactly smooth.”

“You’re difficult to resist.”

She laughed. “Oh, please. I’m very resistible. Trust me.”

He moved a little closer. He liked the sound of her laughter and how she wasn’t aware of her appeal.

She put her hand on his chest. “Let me see if I have this straight. You’re warning me that you’re not someone I want to be involved with, and at the same time, you’re convinced you have enough going for you that I’ll give in anyway.”

“Absolutely.”

He put his hand on hers, liking the feel of her fingers against his chest. Skin on skin would be better, but a man had to take what he could get.

She pulled free and dropped her arm to her side, then shook her head. “You’re a weird guy, you know that?”

“I’ve been called worse.”

“I’m sure you have. Let me get my coat, and while we head to the warehouse, you can share all the details. Knowing the depth of your awfulness will help me resist you.”

“Now you’re mocking me.”

“Hey, you think you can seduce me against my will. I think a little mocking is called for.”

Chapter Four

Evie wasn’t sure about brunch at a bar, but she showed up right on time anyway. She was a little bleary-eyed from spending every free moment over the past few days watching the videos of The Dance of the Winter King. She’d broken down the choreography of over half of the production. With luck, by the end of the holiday weekend, she would have the whole dance down on paper and then be able to put it all together for the girls.