Christmas with a Billionaire: Billionaire under the Mistletoe / Snowed in with Her Boss / A Diamond for Christmas. Maisey Yates

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СКАЧАТЬ himself turning left and heading in the direction of the kitchen. And Sophie.

      Max stood unobserved in the doorway, watching her as she concentrated on stirring something in a saucepan on top of the hob. She was listening to Christmas carols playing softly on the radio while she worked. The wildness of her fiery red hair was once again gathered up into a brown band at her crown, and the Santa pinafore was also secured about the slimness of her waist and looped over the back of her neck.

      A neck that looked very slender and vulnerable as she bent over her task.

      A vulnerability that Max was totally unable to resist as he crossed the kitchen on silent feet until he came to a halt, standing just inches behind her. He was instantly aware of the lightness of her perfume—a mixture of spring flowers and a headier spice. Just as he was also aware of the warmth of her body.

      A combination that drew him in like a magnet.

      The first Sophie knew of Max’s presence in the kitchen was when she gave a start of surprise and then stiffened as she felt his arms move about her waist and link together over her abdomen as he pulled her gently back to rest against his chest. ‘What …?’

      ‘I want to apologise for my boorish behaviour to you a few minutes ago, Sophie.’

      ‘What’s so different about a few minutes ago?’ she challenged as she attempted to separate his hands and release herself. ‘I had just assumed it was par for the course where you’re concerned,’ she added ruefully. The warm feel of Max’s breath against her ear indicated that his head was lowered to her level, as proof that he was standing far too close for comfort. If Sophie needed any further evidence of that, when the length of his chest and thighs was pressed so intimately against her back.

      His chest rumbled against her spine as he gave a husky chuckle. ‘You really are very bad for my ego.’

      ‘It’s been my experience so far that your ego is already more than big enough for one man. Now would you kindly release me?’ Sophie added firmly. ‘Or do I have to hurt you?’

      Max couldn’t stop his burst of laughter at her threat. Sophie was at least a foot shorter than him, and must weigh a good hundred pounds less too; the idea of her being able to physically ‘hurt’ him was ludicrous.

      Besides which, holding her had filled his head with a calm he hadn’t felt in almost twenty-four hours.

      ‘Max?’ Sophie prompted warningly as he made no move to do as she asked and release her.

      Max turned her round to face him; his lids were lowered to hide the expression in his eyes. ‘I like holding you.’

      ‘That wasn’t the impression you gave last night.’

      ‘You had just told me you’re living with another man,’ he reminded her sharply.

      Sophie’s eyes widened. ‘Another man’ seemed to imply that Max somehow thought of himself as a man in her life. Which was laughable. Yes, he had kissed her, and those kisses had got a little … well, a lot … out of control, but once Christmas was over she was never going to see him again. Despite the fact that she could clearly feel the length of Max’s arousal pressing against the softness of her abdomen.

      ‘And that situation hasn’t changed since last night.’ She put both her hands against his chest and pushed. To absolutely no effect. ‘I should warn you, Max, I’m a first dan in ju-jitsu and I’m not afraid to use it.’ She tilted her back to look up at him challengingly.

      ‘That’s admirable.’ He smiled mockingly. ‘Unfortunately for you, I’m a fourth dan, so what do you think your chances are in a fight between the two of us?’

      Not very high, Sophie acknowledged with an inner wince, knowing how wide the gulf was between a first and fourth dan; no wonder Max had such a fit and lithe body for a man who supposedly spent all of his time sitting behind a desk adding to his billions. He obviously didn’t spend all of his time doing that!

      ‘Maybe we could have a practise together in the gym here some time over the next couple of days?’ He quirked one dark brow.

      Sophie had no intention of becoming hot and sweaty with Max, in the gym here or anywhere else, ever!

      She gave him a sweetly insincere smile. ‘I’ll pass, if you don’t mind.’

      He gave what she easily interpreted as a smug smile. ‘Thought you might.’

      Maybe, if he hadn’t given that self-satisfied smile, she might just have repeated her request that he release her and then backed off.

      Unfortunately, he did smile smugly. After that, Sophie had no intention of backing off.

       CHAPTER EIGHT

      ‘WHAT ARE YOU DO—?’ Max barely had time to gasp his surprise before the fingers on both of his hands were bent back painfully and he suddenly found himself flat on his back on the kitchen floor, with Sophie looming menacingly above him as she lay across his chest and twisted his wrists to hold his hands above his head. ‘Are you insane?’ He stared up at her incredulously.

      ‘Getting there, I think,’ she acknowledged as she spoke between gritted teeth, at the same time implying that he was the one driving her there.

      Now that he was over the initial shock, this situation had tipped over into the realms of hilarious, if Max thought about it. And, at this precise moment, it seemed that he had all the time in the world to do exactly that.

      Not that he couldn’t have released himself if he had wanted to, dislodging Sophie from on top of him. Because he certainly could have. As a fourth dan to Sophie’s first, he could have done that quite easily. He just chose not to do so for the moment.

      There was something extremely arousing about having Sophie throw him to the floor before lying on top of him like this. In a position of dominance, her face only inches from his and flushed from her exertions, her eyes glittered down at him darkly in warning. So much so that the blood was pounding hotly through Max’s veins, making him uncomfortably aware of the increasing heat of his desire for the woman positioned above him.

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