A Beaumont Christmas Wedding Read Online Free PDF Page B

she would. Otherwise, she was in. She collected her thoughts and opened the door a crack. “Yes, fine. Thanks.”
    Then she made the mistake of looking at him. God, it wasn’t fair. It just
wasn’t
.
    Matthew Beaumont was, physically, the perfect man to have a Christmas romance with. He had to be about six foot one, broad chested, and that chin? Those eyes? Even his deep red hair made him look distinctive. Striking.
    Gorgeous.
    Too darned bad he was an ass.
    “Can I help you?” she asked, determined to be polite if it killed her. She would not throw a diva fit and prove him right. Even if there would be a certain amount of satisfaction in slamming the door in his face.
    He gave her a grin that walked the fine line between awkward and cute. He might be even better-looking than his brother, but he appeared to possess none of the charm. “Look, Ms. Maddox—”
    “Whitney.”
    “Oh. Okay. Whitney. We got off on the wrong foot and—”
    She winced.
    He paused. “
I
got off on the wrong foot. And I want to apologize to you.” His voice was strong, exuding confidence. It made everything about him that much sexier.
    She blinked at him. “What?”
    “I jumped to conclusions when I realized who you were and I apologize for that.” He waited for her to say something but she had nothing.
    Was he serious? He looked serious. He wasn’t biting back laughter or— She glanced down at his hands. They were tucked into the pockets of his gray wool trousers. No, he wasn’t about to snap an awful photo of her to post online, either.
    He pulled his hands from his pockets and held them at waist level, open palms up, as if he knew what she was thinking. “It’s just that this wedding is incredibly important for rebuilding the public image of the Beaumont family and it’s my job to make sure everyone stays on message.”
    “The...public image?” She leaned against the door, staring up at him. Maybe he wasn’t a real man—far too handsome to be one. And he was certainly talking like a space alien. “I thought this was about Jo and Phillip getting married.”
    “That, too,” he hurried to agree. This time, his smile was a little more charming, like something a politician might pull out when he needed to win an argument. “I just— Look. I just want to make sure that we don’t make headlines for the wrong reason.”
    Embarrassment flamed down the back of her neck. She looked away. He was trying to be nice by saying
we
but they both knew that he meant
her
.
    “I know you don’t believe this, but I have absolutely no desire to make headlines. At all. Ever. If no one else recognized me for the rest of my life, that’d be super.”
    There was a moment of silence that was in danger of becoming painful. “Whitney...”
    The way he said her name—soft and tender and almost reverent—dragged her eyes up to his. The look in his eyes hit her like a bolt out of, well, the blue. He had the most amazing eyes...
    For that sparkling moment, it almost felt as if...as if he was going to say something that could be construed as romantic. Something that didn’t make her feel as though the weight of this entire event were being carried on her shoulders.
    She wanted to hear something that made her feel like Whitney Maddox—that being Whitney Maddox was a good thing. A great thing. And she wanted to hear that something come out of Matthew’s mouth, in that voice that could melt away the chilly winter air. Desire seemed to fill the space between them.
    She leaned toward him. She couldn’t help it. At the same time, his mouth opened as one of his hands moved. Then, just as soon as the motion had started, it stopped. His mouth closed and he appeared to shake himself. “I’ll meet you at the dress fitting tomorrow. To make sure everything’s—”
    “On message?”
    He notched up an eyebrow. She couldn’t tell if she’d offended him or amused him. Or both. “Perfect,” he corrected. “I just want it to be perfect.”
    “Right.”