The On-Screen Marquess & I (The Holyoake Christmas Series, Book 1)

Just Ask

Beep.

"It's her son who's calling and texting me!" he barked, and Anastasia froze with her hand on the seat of her chair. "Antonia is my ex." Amaratunga exhaled sharply. "I still keep in touch with Dan. He's eight, he's known me since he was a baby. They're in LA, and he hates it there. He's not allowed a camera on his phone, so I assume Antonia took that picture and shared it with him, and he sent it to me."

You know, what's the most alarming thing here? It's the fact that you're so bloody chuffed to hear this that it takes all your willpower not to smile right now, Anastasia. Do you - by any chance - fancy the bloke?!

"Like I said, it's none of my business," she said and jerked her chin up. "You don't have to explain anything to me."

He titled his head, looked her over, and then pressed his hands into the sofa and sat up a tad higher on his cushion. Is he trying to gain a better vantage?

"But I thought there's all this sexual tension, and we're both single, and it's the season, and–" he started listing, going as far as uncurling his fingers. Puffed up prick!

"I have emails to write," Anastasia grumbled.

"You could," he murmured and crossed his arms on his chest. His left eyebrow rose under the very angle that pissed her off so much. "Or you can stay and address the fact that you just threw a benny because you didn't want to share my attention."

What?! What?! How dare he! Bloody peacock!

"If it were your beloved anime, I'd punch you in the face and call you 'baka' right now," Anastasia growled and jabbed her finger in front of his face.

"If it were my beloved anime, I'd have grabbed and kissed you," he quipped back, his face suddenly just a few inches away from hers.

Ahhhhhhhh!!!

He fell back onto his cushion. "But you know, consent has to be 'verbal, informed, sober, enthusiastic, and ongoing,' after all," he added and smirked.

Oh.

Oh...

Oh.

And he's just sitting here like at a civilised dinner party! What a tosser! An arrogant, self-assured, conceited tosser! Who does he think he is?!

She suddenly realised he could see right through her. And probably hear her internal screaming. The wise thing to do right now would be to get in her chair and go to her room. Cool her head. Return to Earth. Get away from the warmth of his body and the intoxicating smell of his skin and his fresh, elegant cologne.

Except, there was a challenge in his eyes.

She pushed away from her chair and shifted back onto her spot on the sofa.

You're moving in the wrong direction, Anastasia. It's not too late to leave this charged situation and–

She turned and studied him, frowning and gritting her teeth. He withstood her glare, his face relaxed and amicable. Anastasia carefully put her hand down on the velvet between them, leaned forward and down to him, and closed her eyes. Three, two, one...

"You still have to ask," he murmured.

She was so close that she thought she'd felt his lips brush at hers when he'd spoken. Wait– what?!

Her eyes flew open, and she stared at him.

"That was the deal, wasn't it?" he said. "You can have whatever you want any time, but you have to ask."