by Joanne Rock
“I wanted to show you that I didn’t mean what I said at your grandfather’s house.” She peered up at him.
Jager kissed her nose. “You’re going to be the most beautiful Christmas bride.”
“Can we invite your family?” She straightened on the couch, so full of hope and happiness that he felt too.
“We’ll invite our family,” he assured her. “Every last one of them.”
She wrapped her slender arms around him, and he wondered if she’d ever know how much he loved her. Thankfully, he had a whole lifetime to show her. Starting right now.
Epilogue
One week later
“You may now kiss the bride.” The young, ruddy-faced justice of the peace closed his officiant’s book and grinned broadly at Delia and Jager.
They stood side by side for their New Year’s Eve wedding at The Plaza Hotel in the famed Palm Court, which Malcolm McNeill had bought out for a few hours to enjoy a private, late-afternoon ceremony. Delia wore a specially designed gown from an up-and-coming designer friend of Lydia’s, who had fully delivered on Delia’s request for a fairy-tale dress. Off-the-shoulder chiffon, fitted through the bodice and waist, the dress had a full skirt and short train worthy of any princess. Delia carried red roses and poinsettias, her heart-shaped ring firmly in place on her finger for a lifetime.
“My wife.” Jager’s quiet words, spoken as his lips hovered just above hers, gave the happy moment a power and meaning that she understood deeply. “My love.”
The kiss that sealed their promise made her lightheaded with joy. Or maybe it was the sentiment he expressed, since it was echoed in her own heart.
“Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. McNeill.” The justice of the peace’s words called her back to the reality of the wedding day, and reminded her that they weren’t just celebrating their marriage.
Turning toward their small group of assembled guests, Delia knew that promise she’d just made was also a celebration of family. A wonderful new chapter for all of the McNeills, who had taken the first slow steps toward making peace. Toward giving Malcolm McNeill the united kin he dearly craved.
She glanced his way now, and saw the happy tears in his eyes. He didn’t even bother to hide them. He was the exact opposite of her father, who of course chose that moment to put his fingers between his teeth and let out a wolf whistle. Cameron McNeill seemed to like this salute to the new couple, and he did the same thing, filling the air with their whistled approval.
“I think that means they want us to kiss again,” Jager suggested in her ear. He hadn’t let go of her hand since they’d exchanged rings.
Or maybe it was she who couldn’t let go of him.
“I think you’re right.” She kissed her husband again, for longer this time.
She kissed him until the room broke into applause and cheers. But soon decorum prevailed and her cheeks heated just a little.
Jager must have noticed, because he gave one warm cheek a kiss before he drew her over to the dance floor, where they had agreed to share a first dance as man and wife before a meal with the family.
“Shouldn’t we thank everyone for coming first? Mingle?” Biting her lip, she peered back at the group seated under an archway of palms outlined with white lights for the holidays.
They hadn’t spent a lot of time planning their wedding since they’d only invited family, but Delia was new to having so many siblings-in-law and she wanted to entertain them well. Do things right. Make sure they had fun.
“We’ll visit with them soon enough.” Jager’s blue gaze was for her alone.
And from the heated flame in their depths, she knew he wasn’t thinking about family.
“Then I guess I’ll follow your lead, husband.” She set her bouquet aside as the chamber orchestra began the opening strains of their wedding song.
“I wouldn’t steer you wrong,” he assured her, nibbling at her neck as they turned together on the small parquet floor. “I taught you to ice skate after all.”
It was such a happy memory. And they had so many more left to make together.
“I trust you.” She followed his steps, letting him guide her as they twirled past a waiter bringing in the wedding cake, which consisted of layers and layers of red velvet iced in white. She didn’t need to see the cake to know the bride-and-groom topper danced inside a snow globe. She’d adored the magical romance of the pretty decoration, so fitting for how she’d fallen in love.
“Should we make New York a yearly trip at Christmastime?” Jager asked, and she guessed his thoughts were following the same line as hers. “We’ll have to introduce our child to his or her great grandfather next year.”
She couldn’t wait for her second ultrasound appointment two days from now, before they flew back to Martinique. It was too soon to determine gender, of course, but she wanted to see their baby.
“I’ll be surprised if Malcolm waits that long for a meeting.” She’d had fun visiting with the older man in their two trips to the McNeill mansion since that dubious first meeting. He had been overjoyed at the news of the marriage, all the more so since he’d been afraid he’d driven a wedge between Delia and Jager.
“He is a family man, through and through,” Jager admitted. He and Damon had agreed that they would try salvaging a relationship with this branch of the family.
Gabe, with his own child to consider, had been game all along. He was already in discussions with his half brothers about taking over some of the Caribbean properties.
“How do you think your brothers will fare with the marriage maneuvers?” She was worried about Damon.
He had stayed in New York to attend the wedding, but there was a deep sadness in his eyes even at happy times.
“They’ll set the old man straight,” Jager said with certainty as the closing bars of their song filled the room. “Malcolm McNeill might be growing on me as a person, and as a grandfather. But that doesn’t mean he controls us.”
Delia glided to a stop, peering over at the patriarch surrounded by grandsons who obviously adored him. Even Damon sat close by, listening intently to something Malcolm had to say.
It warmed her heart. But then, everything about this day did.
“I love you so much, Jager.” Happy tears welled up, as they had all week, and she knew it didn’t have anything to do with pregnancy hormones.
Jager kissed her, giving her a moment to compose herself. A moment to savor how perfect and special this day was.
“I love you, Delia.” His words wrapped around her as surely as his arms. “More than I can ever say.”
* * * * *
If you liked this story of the McNeill family, pick up these other McNeill books from Joanne Rock!
THE MAGNATE’S MAIL-ORDER BRIDE
THE MAGNATE’S MARRIAGE MERGER
HIS ACCIDENTAL HEIR
As well as reader favorite
SECRET BABY SCANDAL
Available now from Harlequin Desire!
***
And don’t miss the next LITTLE SECRETS story
LITTLE SECRETS: UNEXPECTEDLY PREGNANT
by Joss Wood
Available January 2018!
***
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Keep reading for an excerpt from SNOWED IN WITH A BILLIONAIRE by Karen Booth.
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Snowed in with a Billionaire
by Karen Booth
One
Joy McKinley hated to lie to anyone, especially someone as sweet as her fellow bakery worker, Natalie. But she had no choice.
“This is me. On the right. Don’t bother pulling into the driveway. It’s tough to back out. Cars whiz around that turn so fast.” Snow was coming down like crazy now. By all accounts, they were in for one heck of a storm.
“Cute house.” Natalie peered through the window at the rustic cabin Joy had driven past every day on her way up the mountain. Her blond curls poked out from underneath her gray-and-white-striped knit hat. It had a giant pom-pom on top. “You make enough at the bakery to live here by yourself?”
If Natalie knew where Joy was really staying, her eyes would have popped out of her head. This house wasn’t nice enough to be the shed behind the one she was currently living in. “It’s really not that nice. It’s a total fixer-upper on the inside. And it’s just until I decide whether or not I’m staying in Vail long-term.”
Every fib out of Joy’s mouth, however small, ate at her. That was the reason she’d kept to herself since coming to Vail—it was easier to live covertly if you never had to speak to anyone about the details of your life. It made for a solitary existence though, one that was starting to chew a hole through Joy’s sanity and sense of self, especially now that Christmas was almost here. Unfortunately, lies and lone-wolfing were the best ways to keep her cover, and keep it she must.
Natalie’s car quaked and rumbled as it idled, but at least it was still spitting out heat. December in Colorado was no joke. Although Joy had grown up in Ohio and had lived through her fair share of bitter cold winters, she’d lost much of her immunity to chilly temperatures while living in LA and Santa Barbara over the last few years.
“Which way are you leaning? Staying or going?” Natalie asked.
“I’m not sure. I need to weigh my options, find a permanent place to live. Let me know if you hear of anyone who needs a roommate. I’d love to share the rent with someone.”
“I’ll definitely ask around. We’d hate to lose you at the bakery. I love working with you.”
“That’s so sweet of you to say. I love working with you, too.” Joy nodded eagerly. Those words were the truth. Still, her pulse was starting to thunder in her ears. What if the real owner of this house came outside, wondering what a strange car was doing idling out front? What if they suddenly came home? The thought put her too close to the edge, a place she’d spent the last several months. Someday she would get settled. Someday she wouldn’t have to be a nomad.
“Just so you know, I’m not trying to guilt you into staying. Seems like you’re pretty overqualified to work there.”
“I’m really not overqualified. Pastries and baking are just as much work as French or Italian cuisine.” Those were Joy’s specialties, but if she started talking about food, she’d never get out of the car, and she was already tempting fate by sitting there. Needing to force the issue, she pulled the handle and opened her car door. “I should go. I’m beat from today and you should really get home before the snow gets any worse.”
Natalie leaned across the seat and looked up at Joy. “Do you want me to talk to my brother about helping you with your car? He works cheap if I tell him it’s a favor to me.”
Even cheap is too expensive for me. “It’s nice of you to offer. I’ll let you know. Thanks so much for the ride. I’ll see you at work tomorrow.”
Of course, I have no clue how I’m going to get there, but I’ll worry about that later.
“If the bakery stays open in this storm. I’d check in with Bonnie later tonight before you go to bed. She’ll tell you what the contingency plan is based on the forecast.”
“Thanks. I’ll do that.” Joy dawdled on her way to the mailbox, pretending to fumble with her bag, then stood with her hand on the pull, waving at Natalie. As soon as she was out of view, Joy pulled back her hand. Knowing her luck, she’d get saddled with federal mail tampering charges.
Joy waited another moment, standing perfectly still as snow fell all around her, collecting on her shoulders and her nose. As soon as she was certain Natalie was long gone, she doubled back to the end of the street and started her long walk up the hill to the sprawling luxurious mountain estate of her former employers, Harrison and Mariella Marshall. Landing the job as head chef at the Marshalls’ estate in Santa Barbara, California, had been a dream come true. Now she was enduring a bizarre bad dream, one in which her surroundings were still luxe and of the Marshall variety, but the reality was decidedly less shiny.
Harrison Marshall, one of the world’s original celebrity chefs, owned a global culinary empire. Working for him was the ultimate foot in the door when it came to being a chef. Unfortunately, Harrison had been in a near-fatal car accident soon after Joy began working for him. In the aftermath, Harrison’s family unraveled, especially his wife, Mariella. She used Joy as a verbal punching bag, launching unprovoked tirades about things as minor as what type of table salt to use. One day, Mariella pushed too hard, and Joy quit. With little money and zero prospects, she walked away from the best job she’d ever had.
Only empathy from Mariella’s son Rafe had saved her, and it was a temporary fix. He’d given her the keys to the Vail house, saying she was okay to stay until mid-January, when his siblings would likely come to ski. It was such a beautiful home, her stay was a respite, of sorts, but she still needed to work, and the only employment she’d found was at the bakery downtown. It was money and that was all that mattered.
Normally, Joy would be driving her beat-up car home from the bakery at this time of day, rocking forward and back in the driver’s seat and praying it would make it all the way to the top. Not today. The cantankerous piece of junk had decided not to start that morning. This was after she’d just spent the only significant chunk of money she had, nearly six hundred dollars, on fixing it. She would’ve been better off abandoning the car and keeping that money for a deposit on an apartment. The clock was ticking on that front. Mid-January would be here before she knew it.
She’d considered borrowing one of the three cars in the Marshalls’ five-car garage, all of which had to cost more money than she could make in five years. As someone who was supposed to be laying low, driving around town in a showstopper of a vehicle was a recipe for attracting too much attention. She’d attempted to borrow one of the family’s bicycles, but she only made it partway down the icy driveway before nearly wiping out. At that point, out of options and on the verge of being late for a job she absolutely needed, she’d decided to spend her last available cash on a taxi. Hence the ride home from Natalie.
The storm seemed to be gaining momentum now. The fluffy fat flakes from earlier were turning to icy pellets. The wind was blowing like crazy, howling between the trees and rustl
ing snow from the branches in dramatic swirls. With a deluge of frozen precipitation pummeling her face, she had to squint in order to see. Joy tugged her scarf up around her ears and over her mouth. It was hard work to scale the hill, and she was breaking out into a sweat, even in the freezing temperatures. The high down in Vail that day had only been twenty-eight degrees. She got off work from the bakery at 3:00 p.m. each day, and it was nearly five now. The sun had set. The brittle night air grated against her cheeks; it worked its way into her bones. Colorado was beautiful, but Joy wasn’t sure she was cut out for being a snow bunny long-term. She would’ve done anything at that moment for a margarita and a beach.
She dug the toes of her boots into the compacted snow, trudging away, careful to stay as far to the side of the road as possible. So much snow had fallen over the last few weeks that waist-high banks lined both sides of the street. She zipped her jacket up around her face and focused on what was waiting for her when she reached the top. She visualized the unbelievable bed she’d been sleeping in every night, the fluffy king-sized pillow-top in Mariella’s daughter’s room. Climbing in and sinking into that luxurious mattress, swishing her bare feet against the fine sheets, was pure heaven. It was her reward for surviving every day. It was also her safe place, a place where she didn’t allow herself to become mired in negative thoughts or worries about where she would go next or what she was going to do in terms of building a future. Yes, she was living a borrowed life right now, and a clandestinely borrowed one at that, but she had to be thankful for what she had. A roof over her head and a warm place to sleep were at the top of the list of her blessings.
The incline was getting steeper. She hitched her bag up on her shoulder. Her breaths came faster, icy air slicing through her lungs. Everything was freezing—her feet, her thighs, her fingers, and especially her cheeks. She started to shake from the cold. Think of the bed. Think of the bed. Just then a soft glow came from around the bend. Light bounced off the snowbanks and the snow-covered branches of the dense stands of trees all around her. The light became brighter. It swept from side to side. But it was the strangest thing. There was no noise. She’d typically hear a car by now. And then came a recognizable sound—the crunch of tires over snow.