The Perfect Gift: A Christmas Billionaire Sexy Romance (Three Wise Men Book 1) Read Online Free Page B

children if we’re exhausted. We all need time off to regenerate. You should take your mum up on it if she’s generous enough to offer to help.”
    “I’ll think about it.” She knew she’d probably say no, though. As appealing as a night on her own in a hotel sounded, she’d only end up lying awake worrying about Ryan, and drinking on her own was rarely fun.
    She yawned, and Brock laughed. “I’d better let you go to sleep. I’m sure you’re shattered.”
    A surge of disappointment nearly made her complain like a toddler having to leave a party, but she bit her lip and just said, “Well, it was lovely to talk to you.”
    “Likewise. I’m glad Ryan’s on the mend.”
    “I’m sorry about your wife, Brock.”
    “Thanks.”
    “Don’t drink too much, eh?”
    He chuckled. “Nah, I won’t. I was planning to sit up and play some moody guitar, but you’ve lifted some of my melancholy. I think I’ll go to bed soon, too.”
    “I’m glad I could help,” she said sincerely. “It’s the least I could do after all the times you’ve helped me.”
    “That’s what I’m here for.” His voice was filled with smiles. “Sleep well.”
    “You too.”
    “Night.” He ended the call.
    Erin slipped the phone back into the pocket of her jeans. She stood and leaned over Ryan, bent and kissed him on the cheek, then climbed back onto her bed.
    Her eyelids drooped, and she turned onto her side, studying the Christmas lights through her lashes.
    A smile remained on her lips until she’d drifted off to sleep.
     

Chapter Three
    Brock had forgotten how hot the dog suit was.
    That morning, the clouds that had covered the country for weeks had finally cleared, and summer had hit New Zealand with a vengeance. The children’s ward of Whangarei hospital had air conditioning, but the late afternoon sun streaming through the windows felt like a blowtorch on the fur that covered him from head to toe.
    Luckily, he’d been sensible enough to wear shorts but, beneath the suit, sweat ran down his back and his T-shirt stuck to his skin. Christ knew what his hair would look like when he eventually removed Dixon’s head.
    “Stop moaning,” said the woman standing by his side. Georgia ran the Far North branch of We Three Kings, coordinating fundraising opportunities and the wishes for sick kids, and organizing the guys’ visits to the hospitals. “Matt never moans like this.”
    “Matt absolutely moans as much as me,” Brock grumbled. “It’s a family trait. All the King males are renowned for it. You only think he doesn’t because you’re soft on him.”
    Even through the tiny eyeholes of the suit, he saw the way Georgia’s cheeks reddened. He was right—she was soft on his brother.
    But she just said, “Rubbish,” turned on her heel, and walked off to the next ward.
    Chuckling, Brock picked up the large sack of presents and followed her. He and Georgia had already delivered some free medical equipment to the hospital, and now it was time to help the kids. Compared to the families in the hospital, his troubles were inconsequential, and he pushed his discomfort away, ready to concentrate on the two children in the room who were sitting up in their beds, eyes wide at the sight of the real Dixon the Dog coming to visit them.
    When his gaze fell on the woman standing at the side of the bed on his right, Brock stopped in his tracks. It was Erin—he knew it instinctively. How he knew, he wouldn’t have been able to say. He’d had no idea what she looked like. She could have been four feet tall, weighed two hundred pounds, and had hair like a scarecrow for all he knew. Not that it would have made any difference if she had, he reminded himself. This wasn’t a romantic visit—he was here because it was Ryan’s birthday and he felt sorry for the boy.
    Even as he thought the words, he knew he was fooling himself. He couldn’t deny he was here for Erin too.
    The woman whose jaw had dropped when he’d entered the room