He didn’t know when that thought had settled within him, but he knew it now. He wanted her in his life, and he was beginning to think it might be a permanent thing.
The idea to take her to New York had been a godsend. He didn’t believe he could buy Abby’s affections, or that he should even try to, but he thought that showing her what he could give her, what her life could be like with him, would be enough to secure a commitment from her.
They had never talked about becoming exclusive. In fact, he had never had that conversation with anyone in his life, but he would now.
She wouldn’t be seeing anyone but him.
Abby was his, whether she knew it or not.
Distracted with thoughts of how to persuade her, he didn’t bother to look who was at his door before answering.
“Hello, Dylan.”
The sly tone left him sour. “Charisse. What are you doing here?”
“Can I not even stop by now?” She huffed, gliding past him into the house.
He closed the door, not wanting this conversation to carry. “No. You can’t.”
“We didn’t break up, Dylan.”
“It seemed like it to me.”
“I just needed some time away to think.” Her white silk blouse parted, showing ample cleavage as she sauntered toward him, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I’ve missed you.”
He reached up to her hands, pulling them away from him. “What do you want?”
“You. I’ve thought a lot about our last conversation, Dylan. I was wrong to push. I realize that you might never be the type to make a commitment, but that doesn’t bother me anymore. I just want to be with you.”
“It’s over, Charisse.” He put her hands down, holding them so she wouldn’t cling to him.
“No it isn’t. I know you still want me.”
He leveled his eyes on her. “There’s someone else.”
“You mean that nobody you brought to the benefit?” Her laugh was brittle as she swirled around, stalking the room, before turning back to him. “You can’t be serious.”
“I am.”
“She can’t give you what I can.” Anger laced her voice. “She can’t give you the connections or status that dating me will.”
“Charisse, you and I both know there isn’t anything you can give me that I don’t already have.”
She screeched. “She’ll only embarrass you. Do you think she’ll survive any other party? She doesn’t have what it takes to be on your arm. To help you in your career.” She laughed cruelly. “She’s more suited to serve at one of those parties than to attend.”
“Watch yourself.” His voice was deadly.
Realizing she overstepped, she backpedaled, smiling sweetly at him. “I can see you care about her. She seemed nice enough. But you also have to think about her, how awkward and shunned she’d feel in our world. She doesn’t have the manners or grace to make friends. You wouldn’t want her to go through that, would you?”
“Have you forgotten that I’m not from ‘your world’ as you call it?”
“But you are now. There aren’t many who can make the jump.”
“She will.”
“And if she doesn’t? If she is ridiculed?”
“Then I won’t give a damn. She means more to me than any of that superficial crap.” His anger simmered, but he yanked it back. “We are over, Charisse. Get whatever you’ve left here and leave.”
“You can’t do this to me! I helped make you.” Her eyes narrowed as her nails curled in like claws. “And I swear if you dump me now, I’ll ruin you. I’ll make sure no one ever hires your company again.”
Dylan looked down at the woman he had once thought beautiful, only seeing how ugly she really was. What had he ever seen in her? “I’ll survive.” He turned on his heel, heading for the door. “I’ll be back in an hour. Make sure you’re gone by then.”
He closed the door on her scream.
Charisse shrieked, seeing red when Dylan turned his back on her. “You think you can dump me?” Picking up an empty vase, she hurled it across the room, her eyes gleaming at the resounding shatter. “No one dumps me.”
He needed to pay. She wasn’t about to be left for some backwater girl. Moving through the house, she broke an expensive statue, another vase, smiling when she thought of the anger Dylan would feel when he saw what she had done.
She didn’t care. He could go to hell.
Moving to his office, determined to throw every single paper onto the floor, she marched to his desk. The first stack of papers went flying, sailing through the air in a frenzy before settling down in chaos.
Reaching for another stack, her hand paused when she noticed a bottle with a note tucked inside. Unscrewing it, she pulled out the piece of paper.
Unable to grasp what this letter meant, she read through it again, ending with the signature: Abby Carter.
This was how Dylan had found her? He’d found her little note to Santa asking for someone to love?
She laughed harshly. How pathetic. He probably felt sorry for her. Probably thought of her as some type of charity case.
Did she know that he had found it? She tapped the paper on her mouth. Dylan hadn’t said how they’d met, but if the letter was still here, she guessed that his sweet Abby didn’t know about it.
A devilish smile quirked her lips. Perhaps she should let Abby know what type of guy Dylan really was. Let her know that he was playing her.
It would be her parting gift to Dylan. One that would be so much more satisfying than breaking a few knickknacks.
Slipping the letter and bottle into her purse, she walked away from the mess she had created, pleased with her plan.
She knew what she’d be giving Abby for Christmas. And it wasn’t love.
Wobbling on her skates, Abby laughed, clutching Dylan’s hand as he led her around the rink in Central Park.
It was their last day in New York, and she could scarcely remember all they had done.
With the Empire State Building and the Statue of Liberty under her belt, Dylan had made sure to cram in a Broadway show, a visit to the Met, New York City’s best pizza joint, and now ice skating.With their days filled with laughter and their nights fueled with longing, she could no longer deny her love for him.
It had happened quickly, the feeling rushing into her heart, taking her captive, but she didn’t fight it. There was always risk in love, and even more so with a man like Dylan. But he made her feel safe.
There was a bond between them, something lasting, whether or not any words had been spoken. In the past several weeks, she had come to know him like no other, able to read his moods before even he realized what he was feeling.
The only thing she couldn’t read was how he felt about her. He cared about her, she was sure.
Wrapping his arm tightly around her waist, he led her around the rink again. “I’m awful at this,” Abby said, gasping for breath between giggles.
“I won’t lie to you. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone fall as often as you have.”
She poked him in the ribs. “Watch it, or I might fall again, taking you down with me.”
He eyed her slowly. “You know I wouldn’t object to getting you flat on your back.”
“You devil!” She laughed, glancing to see if anyone was listening. “Someone might hear you.”
“You think I care?”
“I might. I’m not used to making an exhibition of myself.”
“Ah, but this is New York. No one pays attention to anyone but themselves.” Leaning forward, he kissed her hotly, deeply, making her forget the surrounding skaters. When he finished, his eyes twinkled. “See? No one even batted an eyelash.”
Glancing around, she realized he was right. She shook her head in disbelief. “I’ll never get used to that.” He laughed, guiding her through the crowds, her skates crunching over the ice. “When do we need to leave for the airport?”
He looked at his watch. “Two hours. We should probably head out soon
.”
When they jumped into a cab awhile later, Abby pressed her hand to the window. “I’m sad to see it end.”
She snuggled against him as the driver wove through traffic, jockeying for the quickest route to the airport. “We could always come back, or perhaps go somewhere else. What about for New Year’s?”
Her brows raised in surprise. “New Year’s? You mean in less than two weeks?” He nodded. “I mean, we could. But that isn’t necessary. All I want is to be with you, it doesn’t matter where we are.”
“Abby,” he took her hand, searching her eyes, “I want you to know that these last few days have been amazing. They’ve meant more to me than anything before. I want—” The driver announced their arrival, cutting off what Dylan wanted to say. He cursed softly. “Bad timing I guess.”
Her smile wobbled. She could tell that something weighed heavily on him. “What is it?”
He shook his head. “Later.”
“All right,” she said, but a notch of worry remained.
They made it on their plane, cruising through the sky with no problems. As time on the flight slowly ticked by, Abby wondered what Dylan had wanted to say, but he hadn’t brought it up again.
After unloading her suitcase from his car, Dylan walked her to her apartment. “I had a really great time.”
“Me too.”
They came together like old lovers, confident in their embrace, in their kiss.
“I’ll miss you tonight,” he said, his forehead leaning against her. “I’ve gotten used to having you close by.”
“You’ll see me tomorrow at the party.” She chuckled. “I think we could both use the rest.”
“Probably.” He grinned, kissing her once more before leaving.
It wasn’t until he walked into his house, turning the lights on in the darkened building, that he felt the loss of her presence. Always at ease before, Dylan couldn’t stand the piercing quiet, the stillness that encased his house. And that’s all it was. A house.
Not a home.
But he wanted one. More than he had ever wanted one in his life.
Walking through the empty halls, he wanted to fill them with laughter, with Abby, with their kids.
He leaned heavily against the wall, scrubbing his face with his hands. It was too soon to think of such a large commitment.
Marriage.
But it didn’t feel too soon. It felt… right. He loved her.
He loved Abby.
The thought and feelings moved through him swiftly. Their time in New York had been magical. With her at his side, he had enjoyed everything so much more, had experienced it all more potently, because she had. She made everything worthwhile.
And he wanted that. For the rest of his life.
Would she think he was insane? Regardless of the speed in which he had fallen for her, he knew that she felt something for him. Felt something much stronger than what time would have normally allowed.
But was it enough?
He didn’t want to push her. But it would be hard holding himself back from steering her toward what he wanted.
Whenever he had a goal, he worked toward it, pursued it with a single mindedness that was often ruthless. But he wouldn’t force her into this.
But that didn’t mean he couldn’t help her along in her feelings. He could only encourage her, hoping that she would love him as deeply as he did her.
“So, who is he, Abby?”
Sitting in her old room in her parents’ house, Abby smiled warmly at her mother. “Just a guy.”
“Just a guy?” He mother looked doubtful as she walked into the room.
“All right. He might be just a bit more than that.” Abby laughed softly. “I’m in love with him.”
“Oh, darling, that’s wonderful.” Her mother sat next to her on the bed, wrapping her soft arms around Abby. It was a feeling she had enjoyed all her life. Her mother’s comfort. Taking in her mother’s scent, she marveled that it never changed. “I’m even more excited to meet him tonight. I’m sure your father will be as well.”
“Mom, it isn’t serious yet. I don’t want you to make a big deal out of it. He doesn’t know how I feel.”
“You haven’t told him? Why not?”
“It’s too soon. We’ve only been together a month.”
“Sometimes time doesn’t matter. I know it didn’t with your father and me. Sometimes you just know.” Her mother’s lips quirked, and Abby couldn’t help but notice some of the attributes they shared. Her mother’s blonde hair was a lighter shade, now mixed with gray, but Abby knew it had once been identical to her own. Their noses were the same, along with their Cupid-bow mouth. But there were plenty of differences as well. And seeing them, she didn’t think she had ever seen anyone more beautiful or content.
“I know. I just don’t want to scare him off.”
“Why do you think you would?”
Abby shrugged, moving to stand in front of her mirror, buying herself time. She had already dressed for the party though it wouldn’t start for another couple hours. The midnight blue fabric of her dress was iridescent and would shine like blue fire in the twinkle lights. It was simple, with thin straps at her shoulders, draping the fabric to mid-thigh. The black velvet ribbon under her bust was the only embellishment, drawing the eye to the plunging neckline. She hoped Dylan would like it.
“You look beautiful tonight. That color suits you,” her mother said, drawing Abby’s attention. “Now, why would you think that?”
“He doesn’t seem like the commitment type. I went into this relationship determined to keep it light, to keep it fun.”
“And commitments aren’t fun?”
“No. Well, yes. But I can imagine they aren’t for everyone.”
“And you don’t think Dylan would think so?”
“He hasn’t said anything about it.” Abby sat next to her mother again, the four poster bed sinking under her weight. “I don’t want to push it.”
“I understand.” She patted Abby’s cheek. “Don’t worry too much about it. Everything will work out in the end.”
She took a deep breath, releasing it slowly. “I hope so.”
“I know so.” Her mother rose, walking to the door before swinging around again. “I almost forgot. I came up here to tell you that a package arrived for you.”
“Who’s it from?”
“I don’t know. There’s no return address.”
“All right. I’ll be right down,” Abby said, giving her mother a reassuring nod before she left.
Flicking her blond curls back, she found her black strappy heels, sliding them on before heading down.
The package was sitting on the entry table. No larger than a shoebox, she puzzled over it before opening the top.
A note was lying on tissue paper, but as she removed it, the paper parted, revealing a glass bottle.
Reaching inside, her breath caught as her fingers gripped the cool glass. Her heart thundered in her ears.
Was it… her?
The thought was too far-fetched. But pulling it out, she saw paper rolled carefully inside and knew. It was the same letter that she had thrown into the ocean at Thanksgiving.
Grasping the card, she ripped the envelope, almost tearing the letter in her haste.
Abby,
I found this letter at Dylan Thane’s home. I thought it only right that you know that he found it some time ago. If our roles were reversed, I would want to know that Dylan was playing me, making a fool out of me because of this letter. He tracked you down after finding this, hoping to amuse himself at your expense. I hope you don’t let him hurt you any more than he already has. Don’t ever be anyone’s reason for laughing. Merry Christmas.
Your Secret Santa
Air wheezed out of her lungs. The burning in her chest made her gasp, pulling in ragged breaths.
Grabbing the box and letter, she raced to her room, only allowing herself to collapse to the floor once the door was closed.
Despair g
ripped her, wracking through her in waves.
She hadn’t thought it was possible for her heart to shatter, but she now knew that it was. She could feel the pieces break apart, scattering in a way that could never be reassembled.
In grief, she sobbed, her hand racing to her mouth to hold the sound in before another one escaped. Then another. There was no holding back surges of pain as she gulped air.
Was it possible? Had Dylan found this letter and then used her for his own entertainment? The thought lanced her aching heart, drawing a fresh slash of pain.
She didn’t want to believe it, to think he was capable of such a thing. But holding the bottle in her hand, her letter wrapped inside, she couldn’t dismiss it.
If it were true, if he had found the bottle, why hadn’t he told her? Why hadn’t he mentioned it any of the times they had been together?
There had to be another explanation. But as she combed her brain for one, she couldn’t come up with an alternative.
He had used her, played her cruelly.
She was in love with him. And she meant nothing to him.
Weeping softly, she mourned the loss of the love she had for him, knowing that it would never be the same.
He was running late, but he didn’t think Abby would hold it against him.
As he drove down the road to Abby’s parents’ house, he was surprised to see the amount of parked cars in the neighborhood. Abby had said the party was huge, but he had thought it an exaggeration.
Confident that the business that had delayed him was finished, allowing him to enjoy the rest of the evening, focusing solely on Abby, he made his way to the house.
He had already decided that he would tell her how he felt when he saw her, reserving the rest of their evening for the party and getting to know her family.
Before he could ring the doorbell, a woman opened the door, surprising him by how much she resembled Abby. He could only smile, thinking how Abby would look as the years went by. He knew she would only become more beautiful.
“You must be Dylan.” The woman eyed him before stepping back.
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