The Billionaire's Holiday Bride Page 3

  * * *

  Iain would’ve gone ahead and cleaned up, but Jane got that look in her eyes and wagged a finger at him. She was so damn protective of her copper pots and pans. He didn’t know why she babied them. If anything got damaged, he could just buy her a replacement. As a matter of fact, he’d just bought her an entire copper mine so she could have as much of the metal as she wanted. It was going to be a wedding present.

  Since he had nothing better to do, he went to the master suite, shut the door and dialed his mother. She picked up, her voice as smooth and cultured as usual.

  “Iain. What a pleasure. Congratulations on setting the date.” Her tone was warm, but not entirely without the distance that had been there for so long. Still, the gap was much narrower now. She’d accepted his apology last Christmas, and he knew he’d been able to muster the courage to give it because of Jane.

  But he needed to put his foot down before he lost control of the situation. “Yeah…about that.”

  “Yes?”

  “Why did you tell Jane her father should pay for the wedding? You know it’s going to bankrupt him to have the kind of ceremony that would be acceptable, right?”

  “Is it?”

  “Mom!” Damn it, too loud. He didn’t want Jane to hear what he had to say. He shut his mouth so fast he almost bit his tongue. At the rate the conversation was going, he would have to meditate to regain his calm. Or maybe he would seduce his fiancée. That worked, too. “You know what I’m talking about,” he hissed.

  “Actually I don’t.”

  Iain closed his eyes. His extended family could be snobs when they wanted to be. They never said anything, of course—oh no, that would be vulgar. But they would judge with silent stares, the kind that made people feel so small, so unworthy that they’d want to be sucked into the dark vortex of hell. Tension crept into the back of his neck, and he rubbed the muscles there.

  Ceinlys continued, “If you want to increase the budget, we can move the date to next Christmas Eve.

  His eyes snapped open. “Not a chance.”

  “I thought so.” She paused. “Iain. Jane only cares about marrying you, not about having a particular sort of ceremony. Besides, you have to consider her father’s position. He’s letting his baby girl marry a man he doesn’t know or understand very well, and she’s going to live on the opposite end of the continent. He will want to do this for her.”

  If her father had been that worried about her, he could’ve shown more support for her when she’d been back home. On the other hand…if he had, Jane might’ve never left West Virginia, so Iain probably owed him one for being unsupportive and insensitive.

  Which was precisely why Iain should pay for the wedding.

  Ceinlys laughed softly, as though she sensed his inner turmoil. “It’s going to be fine. I’ll make sure to stay within the budget. I also suggested that perhaps you should be allowed to foot the bill for the reception. So we can have a simple but beautiful ceremony and have a grand reception afterward. She said she would talk to her father, but I don’t intend to budge on this issue. I told her I would speak to her father myself to wrap up the money issue.”

  Iain exhaled slowly. This was more like it. “Okay. And Mom…thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “By the way, when are you moving?”

  “My, news does travel fast these days.”

  “A lot of people are curious about what you plan to do now that…you know. It’s come up a few times.”

  “I see.”

  “France is, like, far. And cold in the winter. Maybe going in spring would be a better idea.”

  A moment of pause, and when she spoke, her voice was warm and mellow. “France isn’t that far. Not even half a day by plane. In any case, I won’t be moving until next year, now that I’m helping out with the wedding.”

  “You sure? About helping with the wedding, I mean.”

  “Jane seemed to want me to.” She cleared her throat. “Unless you object?”

  “Of course not,” Iain said quickly.

  His mother would be just the person to guide Jane. Ceinlys was an excellent hostess and knew the etiquette and best practices for all sorts of events. In addition, having his mother’s advice and assistance would relieve Jane’s anxiety. Iain could tell his fiancée was silently fretting about making sure that the ceremony would be an event that people in his social circle would find acceptable. Iain personally didn’t care that much about what other people thought, but ever since they’d attended Mark and Hilary’s gorgeous outdoor wedding, Jane had been poring over bridal magazines and websites, biting her nails all the while.

  “Thanks again,” he added.

  “My pleasure, Iain.”

  Chapter Four

  It was well past six by the time Sophia came home.

  Home. The word still felt surreal as she took in Dane’s spacious penthouse. She hadn’t had a place she could call home for so long. When she’d been competing, she’d often traveled and gone to wherever her coaches were. When injuries had derailed her career, she’d gone to where the best physical therapists were. When she’d finally accepted that she would never skate in a competition again, she’d gone off to college.

  And her parents’ house? That had never been a home—just a place where she lived.

  The city glittered on the other side of the wraparound floor-to-ceiling glass panes. The penthouse was mostly frosty white, with a bit of pale blue and some dark wood trim. A huge TV took up most of one wall; facing it were a couple of white leather couches. A set of glass sculptures in various vivid colors occupied niches.

  Dane had told her she could change anything she liked, but she’d left the color-scheme alone. She felt drawn to its stark austerity, the minimalist beauty that reminded her of his personality. But she’d placed lots of framed photos on the mantle above the gas fireplace. They were a series, showcasing their lives together. A candid shot of them at Mark’s wedding—she hadn’t realized the photographer captured it. A few with them in the beach house in Mexico, the place where she and Dane had first met. Several selfies together as they spent time together. Sophia wanted to capture every precious moment and immortalize it, so she and Dane would never forget how things were, even if…

  She inhaled sharply and shook herself. She shouldn’t think about that. It wasn’t going to do her any good.

  Trying to liven things up, she put some soft music on the stereo. Before the first piece finished, the door opened, and Dane walked in. Her breath caught at how gorgeous he was—all that dark hair, the arresting blue eyes and chiseled face that belonged to a fallen angel. A custom-tailored suit hugged his lean, powerful body, and she licked her lips. She’d never found suits sexy until she’d met him.

  His eyes warmed as they zeroed in on her. “I’m home.”

  “Welcome back,” she said, going on her toes to kiss him. She was short, and old injuries made it hard for her to wear heels for long.

  He pulled her in close, his arm wrapping around her, fitting her tightly against his hard body. His lips pressed against hers, then he licked her mouth. “I never wanted to come home so badly until you.”

  “Mmm.” She smiled. “Good. Because I always look forward to having you here with me.” She sniffed. “Is that Chinese?”

  “Yup. Wonton soup and sweet and sour pork, just like you said.”

  She let out an appreciative sigh. “Perfect. Thank you.” She wrapped an arm around him as they went to the dining room together. “How was your day?”

  “Productive,” he said succinctly.

  “Did you make people cry?”

  “No more than they deserved.”

  She would’ve been worried if she hadn’t known he was a hard but fair boss. She rolled her eyes, then chuckled at his exaggerated evil look. “You are impossible.”

  “But you love me anyway.”

  “That I do.”

  “Sit down and let’s eat.”

  He pulled out a chair for her, th
en spread the takeout on the table. In addition to what she’d asked for, he’d also grabbed two orders of spring rolls—her favorite—and Szechuan beef.

  They shared the food. She couldn’t possibly eat all of her pork, and she also liked the spicy beef dish.

  “How was your day?” Dane asked.

  “Good! I got to see Salazar and Jane.”

  “What did you see him for?” He scowled. “Or would it be more precise to ask, why he is harassing you?”

  “He’s not bothering me. I wanted to check up on him. He’s living alone for the first time in…well, a while.”

  “Doesn’t he have a new girlfriend?” Dane’s lip curled at “girlfriend.” He’d never approved of his father’s womanizing ways and still didn’t, even though Salazar was single now.

  Sophia supposed it would be awkward if he married somebody younger than Dane. But she had hoped… Well, a small part of her wished Salazar and Ceinlys had managed to reconcile. It seemed so sad to throw everything away. Surely there had to have been some kind of bond for them to stay together so long.

  “He’s your father,” she said quietly. “You could be a little kinder.”

  “I’m trying. For you.”

  She linked her fingers with his. “I know.” Salazar and Dane didn’t have the best relationship. She didn’t think the man ever had a good relationship with anybody in his family, which was sad. Salazar wasn’t a jerk, exactly, but he had his share of issues, mainly his pride. “By the way, we don’t have to host the Christmas party after all.”

  Dane cocked an eyebrow. “We don’t? I thought you wanted to. You were quite…persuasive.”

  Her face heated. She’d been creatively merciless in bed to get him to say yes. Not that she’d minded. It’d been fun and hot as hell to torment him until he’d relented. “Well. Jane and Iain are getting married on Christmas Eve.”

  Dane’s eyes widened slightly. “This Christmas Eve?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Damn.” He sat back and sipped his red wine. “And all this time I thought all he was good at was kicking people’s asses.” A slight shake of his head. “That’s brilliant.”

  “How?”

  “Don’t you see? Now he has the perfect excuse to skip future family Christmas parties.”

  She bumped her fist against his hard shoulder. “Now you’re being Grinchy.”

  “Not at all.” He caught her hand and kissed the knuckles, his mouth open and lingering.

  Heat spread through her, and she parted her lips. It didn’t matter how often he made love to her or how much time they spent together. She would never become immune to what he could do to her body.

  “Let’s get married,” he murmured against her skin. “This Thanksgiving. Then we’ll have an excuse to skip that holiday.”

  “Dane…” She sighed. “I…I’m not sure.”

  He pressed her hand against his cheek. “But I am. I already told you nothing else matters but you.”

  She wanted to say yes. Nothing meant more to her than being with him, but at the same time she had to be realistic.

  “Do you have any idea how much I hate introducing you as my ‘girlfriend’?” he asked, rubbing his cheek against her hand. The stubble scratched her sensitive skin, sending needle-sharp prickling sensations up her arm.

  “I like it, though. I’ve never been anyone’s girlfriend.”

  His gaze softened. “I know, but ‘girlfriend’ is such a tedious word. It’s like weak, lukewarm tea. It’s what people use to describe a girl a schoolboy briefly fancies when he’s too young to know any better. It’s what men use when they want to talk about women they’re with temporarily, without any thought about forever. ‘Fiancée’ is much more satisfying…‘wife’ even better.”

  His words flowed over her like warm honey. How could anybody think ice water coursed in his veins? “It doesn’t matter what label you use,” she whispered as her hand tightened around his. “I’m going to be with you forever.”

  * * *

  Forever.

  Dane looked into Sophia’s guileless eyes. She meant every word.

  Still, a cold fear gnawed at him. He liked it better when he knew exactly where things lay in crystal clear terms. Intellectually, he knew the statistics on divorce. Marriage didn’t guarantee anything. Hell, he didn’t even need to look at the studies. His parents supplied all the example he needed—a lifetime of marriage with a glossy, socially acceptable veneer that covered the rotting foundation underneath.

  But Dane wanted to put a ring on Sophia’s finger, so people would know she was his. She’d said she didn’t want to commit to anything because of the possibility that she had Huntington’s disease, but how could she not see that it didn’t change the way he felt about her? He’d rather have a single day by her side than an eternity alone.

  “Dance with me,” she said suddenly.

  An eyebrow raised, he put down his wine and stood. He extended a hand, and she placed hers in his large palm.

  She fit perfectly against his taller, broader frame. Even though she was eating well now, she was still slight. It was the price she’d paid for her dream, a dream she never got to fulfill because of his youthful carelessness. The thought weighed on him, especially now.

  She rested her head on his chest, right above the heart, as they swayed to the music. Her sweet scent and softness seeped into his senses until all he could feel was her—the love of his life.

  Her lips curved slowly into a smile. “I love it when we’re like this together,” she murmured. “I can hear your heart beat, and mine seems to match your tempo.”

  On their own volition, his hands tightened around her. “Don’t commit to anything for New Year’s Day.”

  “What are you planning?”

  “Something better than a family dinner…or even a Christmas wedding.”

  She waited expectantly.

  “Spending New Year’s in Bora Bora. I just bought an over-the-water bungalow. Thought it could be our happy place.”

  She gasped. “Oh my goodness, Dane. That’s too extravagant.”

  “For you, nothing is too extravagant.”

  “You’re spoiling me.”

  “Which is what I look forward to all the time. All this”—he swept a hand across the penthouse—“would mean nothing if I didn’t have you to spoil.”

  “Thank you.” She tightened her arms around him and rested her head on his chest.

  His heart squeezed. She had no idea how far he would go for her. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a slim ring box. The Kiyoko Hamada boutique had had just the perfect item.

  Subtle tension tightened Sophia, but he wasn’t relenting on this.

  “Dane, I thought—”

  He put a finger over her lips. “No thinking. You’re going to accept this ring.”

  “But—”

  He increased the pressure on her lips. “Shh. I’m not asking you to marry me.” He already had the ring he was going to propose with. This was different. “I’m asking you to at least wear my ring until we’re officially engaged.” He opened the lid.

  Diamonds and sapphires encrusted a gorgeous, slim platinum band. The center diamond was pink and in the shape of a heart. The lights reflected off the precisely cut stones.

  “It’s gorgeous,” she whispered.

  “It’s to let everyone know you’re mine…and to let you know you have my heart. Forever.”

  “Dane…”

  “I know why you want to wait, but bend a little. Let me know there’s a chance you’re going to say yes.”

  She closed her eyes. “You know it’s me, not you.”

  “Nothing’s going to make me change my mind. It’s you or no one.”

  “I know.” She looked into his gaze. “That’s what scares me. You really deserve everything and the best.”

  “I already have everything and the best. You should’ve run when I gave you the chance. Now it’s too late. I’m not letting you go.” He slid the ring onto her unresi
sting finger. The tightness in his chest eased somewhat as he lifted her hand to see how it looked. Of course it was gorgeous. Dane had good taste.

  “Thank you.” She smiled.

  His eyes on hers, he brushed his lips over her knuckles and the ring, then turned her hand to press a kiss in the center of her palm and shifted so it rested against his cheek. “Thank you for never giving up on me.” If he’d been her, he would’ve given up on himself a long time ago. He’d been a total jerk—a professional asshole, as his siblings liked to say.

  Cradling her beloved face in his hands, he slanted his mouth over hers. She kissed him back, her lips eager. In moments like this, he could believe she was his forever.

  Chapter Five

  The next morning, Ceinlys sat with her phone pressed to her ear. Two fingers of the other hand were pressed against the opposite temple, where there was a pulsing knot. She finally understood why her sons drank so much.

  Jane’s father, Wes, was sweet, although he’d been bombarding Ceinlys with more information than necessary about the budget, what he was considering doing, and what he wanted for his baby girl.

  If he wanted the ceremony he was thinking about, he should’ve let Iain pay for the entire thing. Still. He was an in-law, and therefore important to Iain. She managed to relax her jaw enough to say, “It would be prudent to note that everything in L.A. is going to cost approximately three times as much as it would in Paris.”

  “Three times!” the man roared.

  She pulled the phone away with a wince. “Yes. Still, Los Angeles would be the ideal location.”

  A destination wedding was out of the question, not when there was only two months left. They could theoretically do one of numerous overseas vacation homes the family owned, but flying everyone over would be a nightmare. As far as Ceinlys knew, none of Jane’s friends and family in Paris, West Virginia owned a jet, and she wasn’t certain if she could book enough first and business class seats without an overly complex routing. Then there would be coordination with the local staff… No. That wouldn’t do at all.

  “But the money would stretch farther in Paris.”