My Christmas Billionaire (The Billionaire Kings Book 7)

by Serenity Woods

  “Stop it,” I scold. “You’re giving me tingles.”

  He doesn’t apologize, he just smirks, but at that moment the waitress arrives with our food, so I can’t reply.

  She puts the pizza and fries between us, gives us both a plate and cutlery, and leaves us to it. We help ourselves to a couple of slices and a handful of fries, and dig in.

  I think about what he asked me earlier, and I have to ask the same question back. “Do you regret it? What we did?”

  He eats a few fries, studying my face, then swallows and has a swig of beer. “No.”

  I feel a swell of relief. “I’m glad.”

  “Difficult to regret something so amazing,” he says.

  I laugh and have a bite of pizza. “Difficult to call something amazing when you’d have missed it if you’d blinked.”

  He leans back and runs a hand through his hair. “Ah, yeah, it was a bit quick, I know.”

  “Jeez, Stef, it wasn’t a complaint. I was hardly lagging behind, in case you didn’t notice. I just didn’t want you to think I’d used all my techniques. I have a lot more up my sleeve.”

  His eyes are full of amusement. “Techniques?”

  “Oh yeah. Hard and fast is cool. I’m just disappointed I didn’t get a chance to try out some of my moves.”

  He picks up a couple of fries, but doesn’t eat them. His gaze is hot, curious. “You’re teasing me,” he states.

  I have another bite of pizza. “Not at all. There’s more where that came from, that’s all.”

  He eats the fries, then shrugs. “Well, yes of course. Neither of us got a chance to use all our talents.”

  Now it’s my turn to give him a wry, curious glance. “Talents?”

  “I wouldn’t want you to think one orgasm was the norm.”

  That makes me laugh. “I was happy with the one I got.”

  “And that’s very good to know, but the more the merrier, don’t you think?” He tips his head to the side. “I didn’t get a chance to taste you.”

  Heat rushes through me, and I know my face has flamed again. It feels like eons since a man has gone down on me, and the thought of Stefan doing that, kissing up my thighs, sliding his tongue into me… Oh my.

  We both have a bite of pizza, our gazes fixed on each other.

  When we left the suite, I was convinced it had been a one-off. That he wasn’t going to be interested in a replay.

  Now, I’m not so sure.

  I can sense his wariness. As much as he enjoyed it, and as much as he wants me, he’s reluctant to let it happen again. He’ll need some careful handling. But Operation Polar Fling is definitely well underway.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Stefan

  I mustn’t. I shouldn’t. I can’t. For the umpteenth time this vacation, those words go through my head.

  Once could be put down to the heat of the moment, and I don’t regret it. Making love to Jules was the one bright thing that has featured in my life lately, and it was sweet, hot, and everything I hoped it would be.

  But if we were to do it again, it would mean there’s something between us, and I can’t allow that to happen.

  “Relax,” Jules says, lowering her gaze to the pizza plate as she helps herself. “You don’t have to give me the speech. I know it was a one-off and it didn’t mean anything.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far,” I say gently.

  She waves a hand. “You know what I mean. Let’s not get all deep and meaningful. We’re both grown-ups. There’s nothing wrong with some consolatory sex, and I’m not about to try to make it into something more.” She has a bite of pizza, her gaze coming back to mine.

  I lean back and have a swig of beer. Does she really mean that? Maybe she does. It’s not only men who enjoy meaningless sex, after all; I’d never be foolish enough to think that.

  “So… it’s the big day tomorrow,” she says, changing the subject.

  “Of course, the wedding!” I eat the last bite of my pizza and then wipe my hands on the napkin. “What time does it all kick off?”

  “Well the ceremony itself isn’t until three p.m. Abby’s staying at Summer’s suite tonight, and then in the morning she can have a bath and slowly get ready. I think Eva has organized a hairdresser for midday. The gals are heading over around two to help her get dressed.” She offers me the final couple of fries and, when I shake my head, finishes them off. “Are you still going out with the guys tonight?”

  I’d completely forgotten—I’m supposed to be meeting Noah and the others for his stag night at eight. We’re not doing anything mad, just going for a drink together while the girls go around to Summer’s for a glass of wine with Abby, but I can’t get out of it now. Not that I want to. I want to play a part in Noah’s big day.

  “Of course,” I say. At least it makes the decision for us. I don’t have to worry about whether she’ll expect me to invite her in when we get back if we’re both going out.

  “Should be fun,” she says. “I’m kinda looking forward to it.”

  I smile at her. She’s a lighthearted spirit, and she deserves some fun.

  She checks her phone. “It’s nearly seven-thirty. We should probably head back.”

  “Yeah, okay.”

  We go out into the wintry night. It’s bitterly cold, but beautiful. The falling snowflakes look like glitter in the fairy lights. Some children who are obviously close to bedtime, but who are eking out their last few minutes, play in the snow, or drink warmed milk and eat cinnamon rolls while they listen to the carol singers in the square. They’re singing “Silent Night”, their haunting voices ringing out through the village, and lots of the people watching are joining in. The song brings me out in goose bumps and sends a shiver running down my spine.

  “What gorgeous voices,” Jules says as we pause at the edge of the crowd. She joins in with the second verse, which I didn’t know… “Shepherds quake at the sight, Glories stream from heaven afar…” Her voice is high and beautiful. I look at her, surprised.

  She looks up, catching me staring at her, and laughs, grabbing my hand and leading me away. “Sorry. Was I too loud?”

  “No, your voice is amazing. I’ve heard you sing over the years, the way we all do, to pop music at parties, but I’ve never heard you sing like that.”

  “I love carols,” she says. “And it’s great to hear them sung in this sort of setting.”

  “It’s Christmas Eve tomorrow,” I reply, “as well as the wedding. It’s going to be very different celebrating it here.”

  “Are you finally getting in the festive mood?” she teases.

  “Maybe,” I admit. “And it sounds as if you are, too.”

  She scuffs at the snow with her boots as we make our way up the hill. “I’m trying to think of today, and not dwell on Christmas past. It doesn’t do any good mulling over what used to be, and what’s gone wrong. We have to look forward, don’t we? Regret doesn’t get us anywhere.”

  I nod, hoping she’s not talking about what happened earlier. I hope she isn’t regretting it.

  But there’s no time to talk about it more, because as we round the central building, we see everyone coming together outside Summer and Zach’s suite.

  “Have a great evening,” I tell Jules. “And thanks for the support.”

  “I’m glad Fred’s okay,” she replies. “Maybe call or text me later if you hear any updates?”

  “I will.”

  She smiles and walks off to the suite, grinning as everyone cheers as she walks up.

  “Stef!” Noah comes up to me and puts a gloved hand on my shoulder. “Man, I’m so sorry to hear about Fred. Is there any news?”

  “Not since the email.” I know Hal will have told everyone what was in that. “I expect Rawiri will call or email toward the end of his day. If Fred can get through the first twenty-four hours after the op, he’s probably through the worst.”

  “How awful.” Noah shakes his head. “I feel bad insisting you come here. I know you wanted to stay.�
��

  “Not at all. I’m really glad I came,” I say, thinking of Jules’s soft lips and curvy body. “I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.”

  He smiles, and something in his eyes tells me he knows I’m not really talking about the wedding, but he turns away and starts counting to make sure the party’s complete, and once he’s happy, we wave goodbye to the girls and start walking down the hill to the village.

  All the guys are coming—the Three Wise Men, Brock, Charlie, and Matt; their kids—Hal, Ryan, Albie, Leon, and Noah himself; Fitz; Summer’s husband, Zach, and his two boys, Robbie and Simon; and me makes thirteen.

  “Where are we going?” I ask Hal.

  “A strip club,” he says. Noah snorts, and Hal grins.

  “To the Reindeer’s Nose,” Leon states. “As we’ve got the boys with us. Rudi’s put a room aside for us.”

  I chuckle. The Reindeer’s Nose is a family bar, and it’s undoubtedly going to be noisy, but if we have our own room it shouldn’t be too bad.

  “Looking forward to seeing your first stripper?” Hal says as he puts his arm around Robbie.

  “Not my first,” Robbie says, and we all laugh.

  “Don’t listen to him,” Charlie tells his grandson. “It’s going to be very sedate. Lemonade all round and possibly a game of bowls.”

  “I’m so glad I came.” Robbie rolls his eyes.

  “He’s been spending too much time with you,” I scold Hal. “Zach, this guy’s dangerous; you shouldn’t let him anywhere near your children.”

  “If you could not say that quite so loudly, I’d appreciate it,” Hal states as a couple walking past us look at us with alarm.

  “I can see how this evening is going to go,” Brock says wryly as we cross the main road to the bar.

  Laughing, we go inside. Sure enough, it’s bustling and noisy, full of families having a final drink, the kids hyper, dashing about to and from the large play area in the corner that has slides and ball pits.

  “You two can go and play there if you want,” Zach says to his boys, but they both declare they want to stay with us, and he meets my eyes and smiles.

  “I can remember being that age,” I tell him as we cross the bar toward Rudi, who waves to us from the other side of the room. “About to cross that line into manhood, and torn between wanting to play and wanting to be one of the guys.”

  Zach nods. “Robbie’s eleven now, and he’ll be going to high school next year. He’s desperate to go to ‘big’ school. And of course Simon just wants to do everything his big brother does.”

  Our conversation is interrupted as we go into the room and stare about us with delight. It’s a true boys’ room—there’s a pool table in the center, a dartboard on the other side, sofas and chairs, and the bar that runs the length of the main room ends here so we can order drinks without having to leave.

  “I’ve taken the liberty of ordering a range of food,” Rudi says. “I’ll take your first drinks order, and I’ll be around if you need anything.”

  “What a great idea,” Zach says as his boys run over to the pool table. Albie and Hal take charge of them and start directing the play. Leon takes Noah over to the dartboard and begins a game while some of the others look on and cheer.

  Zach and I give Rudi our drinks orders, then sit on one of the sofas.

  “I’ve just had pizza.” I pat my stomach. “That was a mistake.”

  “Did you forget we were coming here?” he says, amused.

  “Kinda.”

  His smile fades. “Oh shit, yeah, sorry, Hal told me about Fred. He’s had the op though, right?”

  “Yeah, so hopefully he’s through the worst.”

  “Man, that’s so awful, especially while you’re away. You must have been worried sick.”

  “It’s nothing that you haven’t gone through tenfold,” I say softly, conscious of how he must have felt back in June when Summer was in hospital.

  One corner of his mouth curves up. “Yeah, I guess.”

  “How is she now?” The two of us take our beers from Rudi as he returns, and then settle back.

  “She’s cool.” Zach has a swig. “All things considered. She’s still on quite a high dose of antibiotics, but this new gene therapy Charlie’s trying seems to be doing some good. At this stage, it feels that every extra month, extra day or hour, is a win. Obviously, I’d rather her not have the condition, but there is something about it that makes you appreciate every minute, you know?”

  I nod, but feel a touch of shame at his words. This thing with Jules, whatever it is; I’ve spent so much time wrangling with myself over what’s right and wrong, what could happen. I’m sure Zach and Summer’s life has been far from plain sailing, but to some extent they must have decided to grasp life by the horns and just go for it.

  “I think that’s a wonderful attitude,” I say, my voice a little husky with emotion. “She’s very lucky to have you.”

  “Oh, jeez, I’m the lucky one, not her.” He smiles as he sees me frown. “You don’t think so?”

  “I know what you mean,” I say. “She’s lovely. But…”

  I look away for a moment, out of the window into the cold night. I don’t want to insult him or hurt his feelings.

  “You can say it,” he tells me. “You won’t be the first person to think it.”

  I bring my gaze back to him. “Do you ever think that your life would have been easier if you hadn’t met her?”

  His patient smile says he knows I have no understanding of how he feels about his wife. “I told her when I met her that I was interested in her, not her illness, and it’s still true. Sixteen years of a happy marriage, and two wonderful boys. I try not to plan too far ahead. If something’s worth doing, I figure we might as well do it right now. But I am thinking about doing something special for our twentieth wedding anniversary. We’ve never been away without the boys, and… if everything, you know, goes according to plan, I thought about taking her to Paris. She’s always wanted to go, and we’ve never gotten around to it.”

  He means if she’s still here. Jesus. I can’t imagine having to think like that about the woman I love. But then he’s right; it must make you live for the moment, mustn’t it? What ifs and maybes suddenly fade into insignificance when you really think about how fragile, how tenuous life is.

  “Zach,” Hal states, “come on, dude, the boys are beating me and Albie here. We need an expert.”

  Zach grins and rises to help them out. I feel an odd stirring deep inside as I look around at this family I’ve known for so long now. The Three Wise Men are laughing as they cheer Noah on against Leon at darts; Ryan’s showing Simon how to hold the pool cue; Hal’s checking to make sure everyone has a drink, because that’s what he does—he’s the eternal host, wanting to ensure everyone has a good time.

  I love these guys, every one of them. And all the girls in the family, too. And I don’t want to lose them.

  Treat her like a princess. Do your best and all will be fine, Hal said.

  Is it really as easy as that? Is it time I stopped worrying about what might be, and concentrate on living life to the full?

  Chapter Nineteen

  Jules

  “I’ve expressed plenty of milk,” Abby says. “So I can have a couple of glasses of wine tonight.”

  “Excellent.” Her mother-in-law, Georgia, pushes the first glass of Chardonnay across to her. “Better get started, then.”

  Abby giggles, and the rest of us laugh. I reach across and give her a hug. “It’s so lovely to see you so happy,” I tell her. She doesn’t talk about her ex much, but I know she had a hard time leading up to meeting Noah.

  “I am happy,” she says, hugging me back before releasing me. “I mean, I’m in Finland, in Santa’s Secret Village in the Arctic Circle, and I’m getting married to the most wonderful man in the world.” She gives a laugh of pure happiness and has a large mouthful from her glass. “And I’m drinking wine! Life couldn’t be any better!”

  I meet C
lio’s eyes and we both smile. All of us here are thrilled for her, and we’re especially thrilled for Noah. After so long alone, he now has a ready-made family. It’s no less than he deserves, the way he looks after all of us.

  “So come on,” Izzy says, uncovering the plates of food that Eva had delivered for the evening, “tell us the truth. Is Ethan going to have a baby brother or sister at some point?”

  “Izzy,” Summer scolds. “Pressure, much?”

  “I don’t mind,” Abby says. “I feel I can talk to you all about anything. Noah and I have discussed it. And… don’t tell anyone…” Her eyes twinkle because practically everyone she knows is either in this room or with Noah in the bar, “but we’ve actually started trying!”

  We all stare at her, and then a cheer breaks out. “Oh my God,” Summer says, “Abby, that’s amazing news. You managed to talk him into it?”

  “More like the other way around,” she admits, helping me to unwrap the final plate of tiny meat pies. “I think being there for Ethan’s birth helped him over the hurdle of worrying about what might happen. I mean, he’ll always be worried, of course, but having Ethan has shown him that things can—and do—go well.”

  “I still can’t believe he helped you give birth,” Izzy says. “God help me if I go into labor and Hal has to deliver it.”

  “He’d be fine,” I scoff. “He’s helped lots of animals give birth.”

  “True, but I don’t want him putting his arm in up to the elbow and then pulling the baby out by his feet.”

  We all laugh and start helping ourselves to food. Eva’s arranged an amazing spread—all kinds of hot nibbles with various dips, and several plates of pastries and tiny cakes to follow. Izzy and Poppy aren’t drinking because of their pregnancies, but the rest of us are determined to sample the interesting Finnish wines that Eva’s sent us.

  “Apparently these wines are made from lingonberries, blueberries, and cloudberries,” Clio says, reading the box they came in. “What the hell are lingonberries?”

  “They’re a bit like cranberries,” Nix says. “And cloudberries are orange but they’re a bit like tiny blackberries.”