He shook his head. “I don’t need a bunch of clutter. I like things simple, orderly.”

She placed her hand on the side of his face, urging him to look at her. “I’d like to have one. And imagine how excited Nick will be to see it.” She could see the internal debate flit across his eyes. “And as for clutter, you better get over that right now, Chase, because I have carte blanche when it comes to decorating.”

He lifted a brow. “Carte blanche?”

“Well, for the next few weeks, at least.”

“On whose approval?” he asked, unable to hide his grin.

“Mine. Didn’t you get that memo?” she teased.

“No, I must have missed that one among the hundred or so others.” He brushed his lips across hers. “You’re quite remarkable, do you know that?”

Allie leaned back to look at him. “Does this mean we’re getting one?”

“Hmm. Seems I’m incapable of denying you anything. Pick your favorite.”

“Oh no,” she said. “You’re the resident pyramid expert. You choose.” She smacked a swift kiss against his lips. “Meet me at the wrapping paper tent when you’re done.”

Hudson groaned, but as she walked away she stole a glance over her shoulder. He looked relaxed and happy as he chatted with the woman boxing up the pyramid he’d selected. Allie wondered idly if it was similar to the one he’d had as a child. Not that it mattered. The important thing was he’d faced a memory from his past. And more than that, he’d been willing to share it with her.

She smiled to herself as she wandered over to a table covered with every type of wrapping paper and ribbon imaginable. For several minutes she sifted through the rolls of brightly colored foils and prints, debating which ones would be best suited for the gifts they’d selected earlier for Harper and Nick.

“You didn’t tell me they sold beer,” Hudson said, strolling up beside her. He was holding a stein of beer in one hand and what appeared to be a tiny boot in the other. “Genius, really. Makes the Christmas shopping experience all the more tolerable.” He held out the boot for her to take.

“What’s this?” she asked.

“Something called gluehwein, which according to the man dressed in lederhosen, is a hot spiced wine. Complete with a souvenir cup,” he added with a smirk. “That I somehow suspect is going to end up on display in my game room.”

Allie smiled. “What a wonderful idea. It will look great behind the bar. You can put it on one of the glass shelves right next to the Baccarat.”

“Keep teasing me and I won’t buy you that fried dough you’ve had your eye on since we arrived.”

Allie’s mouth popped open. How in the world did he always seem to know exactly what she was thinking?

Hudson’s mouth twisted into a wry grin. “Like I said, Alessandra, I’ve become quite adept at reading your body.” He dropped his lips to her ear. “Especially what it hungers for.” His words were like an incendiary device, setting her every nerve aflame. “Drink your wine.”

She took a sip of wine from the small boot, letting the spiced liquid warm her insides. Something on the display in front of them caught Hudson’s eye. He lifted a wide spool of red satin ribbon from the table.

“This looks promising,” he murmured, adding it to the pile of wrapping paper Allie had already selected. He dug his wallet out of his back pocket and handed his credit card over to a woman in a green elf hat.

“Planning to wrap a few presents, Mr. Chase?”

“One in particular.” A wicked gleam flashed in his eyes. “And I plan to unwrap it as well.”

Allie smiled over the rim of her cup, loving his playful, happy mood.

Hudson gathered their bags. “Now tell me, what’s left on your list of Christmas torture?”

“Why can’t you just admit you’ve enjoyed this?”

“While I’ll admit I have enjoyed spending time with you, I’m ready to get you home.” He lowered his voice to a rough whisper. “And naked.”

Allie looked around and was relieved to find no one within earshot.

“I let you convince me the ride to State Street was too quick for a limo reenactment, and I was even on my best behavior at Macy’s, despite some very fond memories making me inconveniently hard while you debated two shades of blue I’m quite certain were exactly the same. But if I’m out here much longer I won’t be held accountable for my actions. There’s bound to be an empty tent somewhere in this village, and if you don’t let me take you home soon, I’m going to fuck you in one of them and I don’t care who hears us.”

Allie nearly choked on her wine. “You wouldn’t dare.” The words left her mouth without much forethought and she regretted it the moment they did. The look on Hudson’s face told her not only would he absolutely follow through on that dark promise, but that he was seriously considering acting on it at that very moment. He opened his mouth to reply and she pressed her fingers to his lips. “Don’t answer that.”

He lifted an impatient brow.

“I need to get a gift for my new assistant and I really should get something for Ben Weiss. But other than that, just the tree.”

Hudson groaned against her fingertips.

“Two hours, tops.” She lifted her fingers from his lips and replaced them with a soft kiss. “Then I’m all yours for the rest of the night.”

“You’re all mine for a hell of a lot longer than that,” he murmured against her lips before pulling back and making his counter offer. “I’ll agree to ninety minutes and not a second more.”

She was about to lodge a protest but he cut her off.

“Relax. They’re selling trees at the far corner of the plaza and I’m fairly sure even your Olympic caliber debating skills can decide on a tree and two gifts in an hour and a half.”

“Hudson, I can’t possibly do all that in ninety minutes.”

He looked at his watch. “Eighty-nine. Do you really want to stand here discussing this?” he asked with a smirk.

Oh, he was impossible. And aggravating. And . . . and what the hell was wrong with her? The man standing in front of her, looking unbelievably sexy in dark jeans, a black leather jacket, and perfectly mussed hair, wanted to take her home and fuck her senseless and she was negotiating shopping time?

Seriously, Sinclair, pick your battles.

Hudson wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her tight against him as he led her to the far side of the plaza where she selected an evergreen tree in record time. She checked her phone while Hudson paid the salesman and arranged for the delivery. There were a few e-mails from work, a list of messages from Colin, all of which could wait until Monday, and a text from Harper.

Assuming lack of call = hot night of unbridled passion?

Allie laughed as she replied: You read too many romance novels.

Little dots appeared almost immediately to indicate Harper was typing. Allie shook her head. Sometimes it seemed like that phone was surgically attached to her.

1.You can NEVER read too many romance novels.

2.How are you texting me with your hands cuffed to a headboard?

Allie felt her face blush a deep red. She’d never divulged the kinkier details of her time with Hudson. Actually, come to think of it, she’d never really divulged any details at all. But Harper had a vivid imagination and no qualms about sharing it. Only problem was, this time she was right.

We’re shopping for a tree.

Her phone lit up with: Assuming shopping for tree = hot afternoon of unbridled passion? Which was followed almost immediately by: Have I asked you if the Buff Billionaire has a brother?

Call you Monday.

Monday?! Wow, this is gonna be good. I better hear the whole . . .

Harper was still typing as Allie tucked her phone back into the pocket of her jeans. Hudson was suddenly behind her, his arm wrapped around her waist and his lips at her ear. “You disappoint me, Miss Sinclair.”

Allie turned to find his other hand holding a sprig of mistletoe high above their heads.