STUCK WITH MR. BILLIONAIRE FOR CHRISTMAS novel Chapter 15

Chapter 15

CINNAMON:

m M

96%L

55 vouchers

“You dragged me here,” I said, keeping my voice low. “I could’ve stayed at my mom’s place. Been warm. Comfortable.”

“You’re here to work, not vacation.”

“And part of working together means you don’t treat me like your servant.”

“I’m not-”

“You just handed me your credit card and gestured like I’m supposed to fetch.”

His eyes narrowed. “You’re being dramatic.”

“You’re being an asshole.”

The receptionist’s gaze flicked between us, eyes widening slightly

Dante must’ve noticed too, because his expression shifted. Still annoyed, but more controlled.

I smiled. Tightly. Then turned to him, batting my eyelashes with exaggerated sweetness.

“Honey.” My voice dripped sugar. “The receptionist is waiting. You can finish telling me how much you love me once we get to our room.” I leaned closer, dropping my voice to a whisper only he could hear. “I promise I’ll make the night spicy.”

The tendons along his jaw stood out like ropes, straining with the effort to stay composed.

I pulled back, still smiling, and whispered again. “Comply. Unless you want her spreading rumors that something’s wrong.

between us.”

For a moment, I thought he’d refuse, waiting for him to turn around and walk out, leaving me stranded here with no way back to town.

Then he growled an actual, honest-to-God growl, stepping up to the desk.

“We need a cabin,” he said, voice clipped. “Two bedrooms. Best you have available.”

The girl straightened, setting down her phone. “Sure thing. We’ve got a few options.”

She rattled off prices and amenities, pointing to a laminated sheet listing different packages.

Dante didn’t even look at the lower-priced options. The executive cabin. That one.”

“Good choice.” She grabbed a clipboard, scribbling down details. How long are you staying?”

“Three weeks.”

Her eyebrows rose. “Okay. I’ll need names and a contact number

Dante provided the information mechanically, each word sounding like it physically pained him to be here.

The girl rang a bell on the desk. A moment later, a door behind er opened.

A man that seemed like he came from actual physical labor instead of a gym membership stepped out.

He smiled, warm and genuine. “I’m Isaiah. I’ll take your bags and show you to your cabin.”

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09:53 Sat, Feb 28

Chapter 15

m M

55 vouchers

“Thank you,” I said, returning the smile. “I’m Cinnamon. Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.” He grabbed our suitcases effortlessly, hoisting them like they weighed nothing.

Dante,stood rigid beside me, glaring at both of us.

I studied Isaiah as we walked. I knew most people in Meadowbrook, grew up here, went to school here, knew the families and their histories. But Isaiah’s face was unfamiliar.

Must be new.

We followed a winding path through the trees. Six other cabins dotted the property, spread out enough that you couldn’t see your neighbors but close enough that you didn’t feel completely isolated.

Our cabin sat at the far end, tucked against the tree line.

The exterior was charming in a rustic way. Logs stacked and sealed, a stone chimney rising from the roof, a small porch with two rocking chairs. Warm light glowed from the windows, making it look almost inviting.

A wave of pine and faint smoke brushed over me, the kind of scent that settles into sweaters and lingers for days. Soft lamplight pooled across the floorboards, catching the grain of the wood and throwing honey-colored shadows along the walls. It felt like stepping into someone else’s memory-quiet, lied-in, a little too intimate for two people who could barely share a sidewalk.

Isaiah unlocked the door, setting our suitcases inside. “You folks need anything, just ring the front desk. I’ll be the one handling your cabin during your stay.”

“Thank you, Isaiah.” I gave him another smile. “Have a good night”

“You too, Miss Cinnamon.” He tipped an imaginary hat and headed back down the path, completely ignoring Dante.

The door hadn’t even fully closed before Dante spoke.

“Is that your boyfriend?”

I whipped around. “What?”

“You’ve been grinning at him since he walked into the reception

“Are you serious right now?”

“You tell me.” He crossed his arms. “Should I be concerned?”

Oh. Oh.

A laugh bubbled up. “Are you jealous?”

His jaw eased, but only barely, like he was forcing each muscle into obedience.

“The world would end before I cared about something as frivolous as that,” he said, voice too smooth to be natural.

I arched a brow. “Good.”

His gaze quickly and unintentionally dipped to my mouth, betraying him before he could look away.

I walked deeper into the cabin, taking in the space.

The interior was beautiful. Warm. Wooden beams across the ceiling, exposed. A stone fireplace dominated one wall, already stacked with wood and kindling. The furniture was simple but well-made. A plush couch in burnt orange, a coffee table

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09:53 Sat, Feb 28

Chapter 15

m M

96%

55 vouchers

made from reclaimed wood, soft lighting that cast everything in a golden glow.

I peeked around the corner. Kitchenette. Small but functional.

Then I found the bedroom.

One bedroom.

One bed.

I walked back to the living room. “There’s only one bedroom.”

Dante looked up from where he’d been examining the thermostat. “What?”

“One bedroom. One bed.”

He frowned. “I specifically asked for two.”

“Well, you got one.”

He checked his watch, then grabbed his suitcase. “It’s late. We’ll sort it out tomorrow.” He gestured toward the couch. “You can sleep there.”

I stared at him. “Excuse me?”

“You’re small. The couch should fit you fine. I’m bigger. I need the bed.”

My mouth fell open. “You’re joking.”

“Do I look like I’m joking?” He started rolling his suitcase toward the bedroom. “And while we’re establishing boundaries, let me be clear. While I’m away from my assistant and my normal staff, your second job is to handle logistics. Book things. Make arrangements. Don’t try to use me or stress me out like you did today.”

“I didn’t-”

“We have our first meeting tomorrow at 3 PM. We’ll go over the project plan before then. Keep your distance. Keep that pretty mouth of yours closed unless I ask you a direct question.” He paused. “And tell your sister not to threaten me again.”

I blinked. “Khole threatened you?”

“Yes. But that’s beside the point.” He turned back toward the bedroom. “Remember all those lies you told today. You’re good at it. When situations like that come up, I’ll let you do the talking

The words hit like a slap.

‘You’re good at it.’

Air stalled halfway up, trapped behind the lump climbing my throat.

He didn’t even wait for a response. Just rolled his suitcase into the bedroom and closed the door.

The lock clicked.

I stood there, frozen, staring at the closed door.

Then the anger hit.

Hot. Burning. All-consuming.

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