"You shouldn’t take everyone around you for granted."
"Now you’re doing that NLP shit…" he points out.
I half laugh, "You going to explain exactly what this is about?"
"This?" He looks perplexed.
I point to the space between us, "This."
"Ah." He steeples his fingers together. "It’s simple. I am willing to let you stay here for the holiday season."
I frown.
"But?"
"Did I say a ‘but’?"
"There’s always a ‘but’ with people like you."
"People like me?"
"Overindulgent, spoilt, rich pricks who think they own the world.”
"That’s because I do."
I snort; I can’t help it. "Why am I not surprised that you said that?"
He raises his shoulders, "It’s a fact."
"Whatever," I mutter.
"What was that?"
“I said, ‘What-fucking-ever,’" I say, with more aggression that I am feeling.
"Hmm, you have spirit. That’s good."
"Oh, stop talking in riddles."
"That’s Saint," he chuckles.
"What?"
"Doesn’t matter." He draws in a breath, then straightens his shoulders, "Enough beating around the bush. It’s six days to Christmas. We spend it together. You do everything I ask of you in that time."
"What does that mean?" I stare.
"Exactly what it sounds like. Nothing hidden."
"Does it mean…uh…?"
"What?"
"You know."
"No, I don’t." He smirks.
Oh, spit it out already, why the hell am I being coy? "Sexual favors," I burst out.
"Only if you want it to," he replies.
I blink. "You mean…"
He nods.
"So, if I decided I didn’t want to blow you again..."
"You’d be missing out," he rolls his shoulders, "but your call."
"You sure?"
"Would I lie?"
"Wouldn’t you?"
He grins. "I love this little sparring thing we have going on..."
I purse my lips together, "It’s not ‘little’ anything."
"That’s true," he chuckles.
“Oh, my God!” I throw up my hands. "We get on each other’s nerves. That’s all it is."
"Hmm," he scratches his jaw, "you may be right there. We’ll have to tone it down though, when we’re seen in public."
"Public?"
He nods, "I have to go to visit my family sometime before Christmas and you’ll come along, of course."
I stare at him. Has he gone mad? Why is he jumping around topics like that? "Wh...what do you mean?"
"You’ll come with me, as my date, to visit with my family in the lead up to Christmas." He speaks slower this time, as if I didn’t understand him the first time around. I still don’t.
"No, I won’t."
"Yes, you will."
I blink. He’s so bloody confident, it borders on delusional. I hadn’t mistakenly agreed to this earlier, had I? No, of course not. "Why the hell would I do that?" I scoff.
"Because you wanted a place to spend the holiday season, and this is the only space available."
"No, it isn’t." I shuffle my feet.
"Ever tried finding a place to stay over the holiday season? It’s either sold out, or so expensive, it would be out of your price range.
"How do you know what my price range is?"
"Whatever it is, I can afford it." He smirks.
My jaw drops. Again. Shit, I’ve been doing a lot of that since I got here… But this…this…wanker… He’s got his head up his arse. No doubt, he thinks the sun shines out of it too. I snicker.
He frowns. "Also, you can’t do that while you are here," he drawls.
"What?"
"Think impertinent thoughts."
I blink, then laugh, "Man, you’re something else, you know?"
"As you are going to find out."
I open and shut my mouth, I mean… Why am I standing here arguing with him? I should just march out of here, figure out alternate arrangements across the new year.
"Giving up so soon?" he drawls.
"What do you mean?"
"Guess you know that you can’t last the next six days without falling for my charms."
"What charms?" I look him and down, "You’re a douchebag, is all."
"Exactly what you find so attractive, hmm?"
"You have no idea what I like, or not."
"Oh, trust me," He sits forward in the chair, "I have a very good idea what you…want.… Question is," he lowers his voice to that hushed tone that sinks into my skin. My blood heats; moisture laces my core. How the hell does he draw that reaction from me without trying too hard?
"Do you, Buttercup?"
I swallow, "I have no idea what you’re talking about."
"We’ll have to work on that too."
"What?"
"This entire self-denial thing you have going on… It’s cute…" he tilts his head, "but it can get wearying after a while, for both of us."
I stare, trying to keep pace with his thoughts.
"It is?"
He nods, "And we don’t want that."
My head spins; my skin heats further. Why the hell is it so warm inside?
"I… I think I need to go."
I turn to leave, reach the door, when he calls out.
"A million pounds.”
I pause, then turn, "Excuse me?"
He’s standing in front of the chair. "You heard me." He props his palms on his hips. "I know how much in debt you are."
"My business is doing well." My heart begins to race; sweat dampens my palms. Dammit, why the hell does this guy make me nervous? "In fact, that’s why I am here, to recuperate from the stress —"
"No doubt, caused by the college loans you carry. Not to mention, the ones you took out to finance your fledgling little business."
Argh, did he just call my thriving enterprise 'little,' which it is, but what the hell gives him the right to come across all condescending like that? "And you know all this...how?"
"Do you deny it?" he asks.
Do it. Don’t give him the satisfaction of finding out how right he is. I open my mouth, shut it again. Damn it, but I can’t tell a white lie. Not even to save my arse. Which might be more literal than I realize. A giggle bubbles up.
He frowns. "If you did make a success of your business—"
I open my mouth to protest.
He holds up his hand to stop me, "—which is dependent on your business acumen as much as on your ability to be a cook—"
"I’m a pastry chef, you knob."
"Cook." He closes the distance between us, "Even then, you’ll be paying off your loans for the next twenty years."
My pulse rate ratchets up. Shit, those numbers… Not that I wasn’t aware of them. I prefer not to think about it, that’s all. I mean, sure, I could look on the negative and the fact that I’ll be paying off the loans forever… But I’ve been confident I could turn the corner at some point. What’s the other option? Not take risks, work a nine-to-five… Nothing wrong with that. It’s not for me, that’s all.