“Parents are people, babe, and people have their shit to deal with. Having children doesn’t change that. But you’re a smart woman. I’m sure you know that already.”
I cracked a tiny smile. I loved how he made me feel so astute, as if I could recite the Webster’s Dictionary by heart. I wanted to convince him that I was more of a survivor than an intellectual, and the difference was marked, but I didn’t want to kill that glimmer of appreciation in his eyes.
I continued to tell him about my life. “When we moved to Pittsburgh, I ended up in an amazing high school. The school counselor is now a world-renowned cognitive behavioral therapist. I used to have sessions with her twice a week. That’s when I learned what you just said.”
“I wish I could’ve seen you back then.”
We smiled lovingly at each other. Goodness, he was a beautiful man. It took every ounce of control in my body to not jump his bones yet again.
“What about you? I bet growing up a Christmas was quite interesting.”
“It was miserable,” he said without pause, which I found surprising. His eyes weren’t guarded either.
I wasn’t going to ask him to elaborate, even though I wanted him to. I pictured a pretty little boy with sandy-blond hair and blue-green eyes standing next to his perpetually scowling father, both wearing three-piece suits.
“I was taught to live by Randolph’s rules and never my own ever since I could remember,” he said.
“Is that what rich men like your father are all about? Control?”
He swallowed what must’ve been a lump in his throat. “Yes,” he barely said.
There were memories playing behind his eyes, I could tell. I wondered what he had endured under the harsh palm of Randolph Christmas. During my stay in the Christmas mansion, I’d noticed whenever the subject of their father’s declining health arose, Bryn, Asher, and Spencer had the luxury of being more distant about the impact of what that meant for the future of their family. Jasper, on the other hand, seemed to carry the weight of the changes that were before them. At first, it had just been an inclination of mine, but then on Christmas Eve, on the day of their father’s death, I’d noticed something about them all. They’d glowed. They had been anxious. They couldn’t escape the confines of that mansion fast enough.
Jasper smiled lightly—I assumed to assure me he was okay. “Once, when I was about nine or ten, I had a teacher. I can’t remember his name, but he gave us a lesson on space and NASA needing brave boys and girls like us to choose a career in discovering uncharted territory. I liked the idea of going where no man’s ever gone. I came home from school and told my father I wanted to be an astronaut and told him all about my lesson.” His eyes dimmed. “Randolph grabbed me by the neck and pinned me to the wall. I was homeschooled after that.”
I reached out and ran my fingers across his succulent bottom lip. He quickly captured my hand and kissed the back of it before drawing me against him. The way he held me and how I felt in his embrace signaled a change in our relationship. The moment satiated me just the same as if we were making beautiful love. Perhaps that was exactly what I was feeling in the moment. Jasper’s engulfing presence was beginning to erase the parts of me that never let a man close enough to love me. I had never felt safer than I did in that moment, and soon I fell asleep.
At some point, I saw Jasper at the Christmas party at the Christmases. He was walking the floor, his arm linked with Julia Valentine’s. They greeted their guests. Even Asher took Julia’s hand and kissed the back of it like an adoring fan. I watched from a distance as they made their approach. I wondered if Jasper would acknowledge me. They shook more hands and laughed with more of their guests. I waited.
Bryn sidled up next to me. “I told you not to fuck him. Well, that’s why.”
When I turned to look at her, half of her head was missing, and she was bleeding profusely.
I gasped. My eyes popped open, and I woke up to a lit room. “It was only a dream,” I whispered in an effort to comfort myself. It took a moment to remember that I wasn’t alone. However, the space beside me was empty.
I sat up swiftly. “Jasper?” I called, casting my voice toward the bathroom. My gaze fell on the pillow Jasper had slept on. There was a small square sheet of paper ripped from the hotel notepad.
Oddly, the first thing I noticed was Jasper’s handwriting. It was the first time I had seen his elegant penmanship. Then I read the words.
* * *
Dear Holly,
I apologize for leaving so soon.
Know that I care deeply for you.
Always,
Ace
* * *
“Ace,” I whispered as a knot formed in my chest and my sinuses swelled.
Why didn’t he sign his rude goodbye note as Jasper?
I couldn’t help being equally intrigued and angry. But I wouldn’t let myself cry. I was lucky. My heart was not aching, at least not yet. All the hesitation I’d had about falling into bed with Jasper Christmas again had aptly protected me against this inevitable ending.
Chapter Five
Jasper Christmas
Jasper stared out the window of Christmas Industries Incorporated’s headquarters in Lower Manhattan. The view was a sliver of the Hudson River and another tall glass skyscraper of equal size. It wasn’t remarkable, and that was the point. The old man considered taking a moment to admire a view a waste of an emotion. Instead, he’d wanted his executives imprisoned by the drive to line their pockets with the cash he’d given so freely, but only if they did whatever he ordered without question. A building blocking a skyline seemed a small sacrifice for bending to Randolph’s desires.
A small smirk flashed across Jasper’s lips as he recalled something. There was no way in hell he would’ve continued slaving for his father. Before Randolph had become ill, he was in the midst of planning a hostile takeover. Jasper didn’t have to do that anymore. The entire Christmas family fortune was smartly left to one living descendent in efforts to preserve the family’s wealth. Now it was all his.
Jasper suddenly kicked himself in the ass for not leaving that in the note on Holly’s pillow yesterday morning. He couldn’t find the words to explain to her that it was not the time to flaunt their relationship in the open. Of course she knew that. Holly was a smart girl, a fucking realist. But he simply hadn’t wanted the last words he said to her to be goodbye.
Arthur Valentine had to be dealt with and swiftly. When Valentine had shown up at the mansion on Christmas Day, with his daughter in tow, Jasper had known one thing for sure. Valentine was a desperate man. Jasper had let Holly escape for her own safety, but every molecule that comprised his being had wanted to chase her and convince her to stay. A man ultimately knew when he’d found the one.
On the afternoon Holly had stopped her car at the front of the mansion, Jasper had hurried outside to tell her to leave. He’d just been informed by William, the guests’ butler, that they would be hosting someone for five days. When he’d said her name, Jasper knew exactly who she was. They were in no way prepared to accommodate an award-winning investigative journalist. Randolph was on his deathbed, and it was incumbent on the entire household to keep that quiet. Important business deals were in the works. By then, Randolph was merely a figurehead who the world thought called the shots. Jasper needed everyone to keep believing just that. He feared a reporter the caliber of Holly Henderson would be able to see through their façade in less than twenty-four hours.
Also, Asher had brought Gina, his high-class hooker, to the mansion simply to get under Spencer’s skin. They for sure wouldn’t be on their best behavior. Gina had been privy to a lot of the family’s darkness. But Jasper had her managed.
When Jasper bolted outside and knocked on the window of Holly’s car, he had intended on directing her to a nearby hotel. Of course he would’ve paid for her accommodations. But when the glass rolled down, the smell of cold fast food and her natural body scent, which he found appealing, hit him. Then she looked at
him with an openness that made it hard to breathe. He had known then that not only did she have to stay but that he had to have her.
Jasper closed and opened his eyes to clear his head of memories of Holly Henderson. It was not the appropriate moment to remember how much he missed her. In the distance, he could hear the office secretary scrambling to prepare for the two o’clock board meeting, which started in a few minutes. His stomach turned. What the fuck is wrong with me? He wished he could say to hell with it, run away from all of his obligations, and be free like his siblings. Bryn, although careless, was braver than he was. She had bowed out of society in her customary dramatic style. He had tried to do the same. It would’ve been the day after Christmas when he and Holly would’ve traveled together as lovers. He pictured nights of making love to her on a cold, damp beach with the only heat generated from their desire. He would kiss her often and make love to her every moment he could. He always got a hard-on when she talked about anything—her past, her present, and her desires for their future together. Holly Henderson added pure pleasure to his life. Randolph would’ve used every trick in his book to keep them away from each other.
Was his father the devil? The answer to that question was the reason he’d chosen not to halt Holly’s investigation into their family. He trusted her to answer the questions he’d always been too afraid to prove.
Randolph Christmas had a darkness. Whenever Jasper had looked into his father’s eyes, he could see it staring back at him. And that darkness had rubbed off on Spencer and Asher as well. Miraculously, Jasper had been able to keep the Christmases’ image intact despite his family’s insistence on destroying it. He did that by staying in the shadows and being a consummate and consistent watcher and fixer. That was why he hadn’t stepped foot in the Lower Manhattan office in three years, two months, and eight fucking days.
The office had been his father’s playland. The men who worked there were the worst of the worst and not the best and the brightest. They were misogynistic, greedy, and soulless fuckers who would do whatever it took to win. Jasper had so much shit to clean up to keep his father’s toy from imploding. He massaged his temples. The thought gave him a migraine.
“Mr. Christmas,” Jacqueline, the office secretary, called.
He quickly turned to see the curvy, wide-eyed brunette, who was the star of most men’s sexual fantasies, standing in the doorway. She was the general prototype of women who worked in their offices.
“Yes?” he asked.
Jacqueline made herself stand taller. His tone was curt, sharp enough to cut anyone down an inch or two. Jasper didn’t know Jacqueline very well, but from the handful of times he’d dealt with her, the professionalism she demonstrated had always been robotic. She was probably in her late twenties and had just realized that to get through a day in their offices, she had to not feel, see, or complain.
However, he wanted Jacqueline to be comfortable around him. He wanted her to know for certain that he wasn’t like the other assholes she worked for.
Jasper tried being more genial. “I meant how may I help you?”
She maintained her steadfast composure. “Sir, Brett keeps asking for an agenda. I could whip up one quickly, an impromptu one.”
Jasper studied the stress on her face. He’d been working in the office for the past week. The guys there were into ordering the assistants around, all of whom were female, as if they were indentured servants.
“Didn’t I say there will be no agenda?” Shit. He could feel his face frowning, and his tone could freeze fire.
Again, she pulled her shoulders back to stand taller. “Yes, sir.”
He pressed his hands together and watched her with laser focus. “How long have you been working for this company?”
Her brows ruffled then lifted. “Six years, sir.”
“In my book, that gives you seniority over a weasel like Brett, who’s barely hanging onto his job.”
Jacqueline’s lips parted as though she had no idea how to respond to that.
“I’m telling him there’s no agenda. What you tell him is on you. Just know that you can tell him to go eat shit and keep your job.” He winked at her. Plus, Brett wasn’t going to be around after the meeting anyway, nor was anyone else who would be in the room.
Jacqueline cleared her throat. “Yes, and um…”
“No agenda,” Jasper finally barked, figuring she was having a problem saying no to the fuckers who worked in the office, which was one reason why all of them had to go.
She nodded swiftly. “I understand, sir. But, um, also, some of the assistants wanted to know if Christmas bonuses were going to be distributed this year.”
Jasper turned his head slightly. “You haven’t gotten them yet?”
“No, sir.”
He raised a hand, showing her his palm. “Don’t call me that. Refer to me as Jasper or Mr. Christmas, but not sir.”
He’d always hated the rule that all the assistants, who were female, were required to call their bosses, all male, “sir.” Jasper tried to convince Randolph of the legal ramifications of such a decree, but his father had been dogmatic about keeping it. Each time Jasper had tried to convince his father to change the way they operated around the office, his father’s darkness had glared at him, warning him to not fuck with his plaything or else. So he had left the Lower Manhattan office completely in his father’s hands. For Jasper, it was out of sight, out of mind. But now he was in charge, and that meant the fucking madhouse was about to turn into what he’d personally termed a “sane asylum.”
“Yes, I will call you Jasper,” Jacqueline said timidly.
“That’s fine. And let the assistants know they’ll have their bonuses with interest. I would also like to meet with all of you after I wrap up with the executives and board.” He twisted his wrist to check the time on his watch. “Set the assistants’ meeting for two p.m.”
“Yes, Jasper. Is that all?”
He liked how she said his name as though she were trying out her new freedom. He cracked a smile. “Yes, that will be all.”
Jacqueline briskly nodded once then rushed back to her desk.
Jasper put on his suit jacket, walked out of his office, and stopped to observe the area. Jacqueline was typing feverishly on her keyboard. He could hear her excitement in the tapping of keys. She had a delicate grin on her face, and he knew it was because he’d given her the power to tell Brett to go to hell.
“Jasper, is there anything I can help you with?” Jacqueline asked.
He smiled at her. “No, I’m fine,” he said and started briskly toward the conference room.
The meeting would be another battle before winning the war. Step one of fighting back against Arthur Valentine was Jasper convincing the old man that Jasper was a coldhearted bastard who could never love or be faithful to any woman, including Arthur’s daughter. Of course that wouldn’t put Valentine off. He couldn’t give a damn about Julia. The man didn’t hope for true love and good will for his daughter’s future. She was a pawn to him, just as Jasper had been for Randolph. Jasper’s manipulation seemed to work, but he now knew Valentine had kept eyes on Holly to make sure Jasper had told him the truth. In turn, Jasper had watchers watching Valentine’s men.
Regardless, Jasper had been able to persuade Valentine that the best course of action was to postpone the wedding. He initially tried to convince Valentine that it wasn’t smart to get married so soon after his father died. Valentine disagreed.
“It’s the best time,” he said, spinning a story about how Jasper’s tortured soul had to marry Julia right away after losing his father, his hero.
It took all he had not to laugh in Valentine’s face, but he quickly took another approach and convinced Valentine that he and Julia needed to create some buzz around their relationship. The public had to see them together for an appropriate period of time. A future president and first lady couldn’t be viewed as impulsive and undisciplined. Valentine was anxious about making the wrong moves on his quest to g
et Jasper elected as president of the United States. So he’d agreed to Jasper’s plan but reminded him that he held a secret that would make the Christmases penniless. If Jasper crossed him, Valentine would take their family down.
Jasper stopped in front of the door to the conference room. The rumble of male voices vibrated against the wood. He grabbed the door handle. It was time to begin step two, which would ultimately be part of his plan to take Valentine down before the old man could see his demise coming.
Chapter Six
Nine hours after the front-desk clerk assured me the roads were clear, I arrived at another hotel in downtown Knoxville, Tennessee. The valet parked my car, and I stepped on the elevator after booking a suite with a jetted tub for the night. I needed a long bath. I could’ve forced myself to drive all the way to Chattanooga, but my eyes and brain had taken me as far as I could go on a snowy day of road closures and slowdowns due to traffic accidents. Plus, I didn’t want to arrive in the city too exhausted to do more research and planning. I also had my regular work to dive into. On the way there, I’d let a number of calls go to voice mail, never checking to see who was trying to contact me. Deep down, I hoped one of the callers was Jasper, apologizing and expressing his devoted love.
I stared at the lit numbers on the elevator panel and counted up to the eleventh floor. I was still trying to make myself cry over Jasper leaving without a kiss and an appropriate goodbye. Maybe if I cried, I could promptly make a decision to never think about him again. Even during the long drive, I had tried to make myself weep. Instead, as one mile had given way to the next, I found myself struggling to stay awake.
The elevator doors slid open, and I fought the urge to picture Jasper standing in the hallway, waiting to kiss me. But no one was there, and not a peep could be heard as I dragged myself up the carpeted corridor.
Desire: The Dark Christmases Page 4