Flowers lined the route to the main reception, where a band was playing and every table was decorated with more flowers and candles in hurricane globes that sparkled and shone in the twilight.
She sipped her champagne and avoided the growing crowd in the room by stepping out onto the deck. Here in Florida, the weather was warm, even on a January evening, but the ocean breeze sighed past her in a cool embrace.
“This is good,” she whispered to herself. “I’ll have to see Sam, but maybe that will help me get over him.” It didn’t make sense even to her, but Mia hoped it was true.
“Don’t get over me.”
She took a deep, quick breath and steadied herself by laying one hand on the railing in front of her. Sam. Right there. Behind her.
“Mia—”
“God, Sam,” she said, not turning to look at him. “Don’t do this to me. Please. Just let me enjoy Michael and Alice’s wedding and go home again.”
“I can’t do that,” Sam said softly, then laid his hands on her shoulders and slowly turned her until she was facing him.
He was so handsome he took her breath away. And he wasn’t hers. Even the heat slipping into her body from his hands at her shoulders was only temporary. Not hers to keep.
“I’m sorry,” he said and simply stunned Mia speechless.
She took a sip of champagne and let the icy bubbles wipe away her suddenly dry throat.
“You’re sorry? For what?”
He released her, swept both hands through his hair and then shrugged. “For everything, Mia. I’m sorry I didn’t show up for our marriage. Sorry I made you feel as if you weren’t important to me when the truth is, you’re the most important person in my life.”
Cautiously, Mia watched him, tried to read his eyes, but too many emotions were dazzling them for her to identify them all. So she waited. To see where he was going with this.
He laughed shortly. “Before I say everything I need you to know, I have to tell you that you’re so beautiful, it makes my chest tight.”
She laughed too. Mia wasn’t a fool. She knew she looked good. She’d made a point of it, since she’d known she’d be seeing Sam. She had wanted him to see her and to be filled with regret for letting her go.
She’d bought a dark red, off-the-shoulder dress with a sweetheart neckline, a cinched waist and a short skirt that stopped mid-thigh. Her black, three-inch heels brought her nearly eye to eye with him, so she could see that he meant what he was saying.
“Thanks. I bought this dress on purpose. To make you suffer.”
He laughed again and some of the shadows left his eyes. “Well, mission accomplished.”
“What is it you want, Sam?” she asked, bringing them back to the reason he was standing there in front of her.
“You, Mia. I want you.”
Her heart clutched. “Sam...we’ve been over this.”
“No, no we haven’t. Not like we’re about to.”
She bit her lip and took a breath. “What’s that mean?”
“It means,” he said, with a rueful shake of his head, “that I finally understand that I’m not just my father’s son, but my mother’s as well. Mom got past her time with my father. She found love with her second husband and I saw it. They were happy. Hell, Michael grew up in Disneyland comparatively speaking.”
“I know your dad was hard, Sam, and I’m sorry about it.”
“This isn’t about him anymore, Mia.” He cupped her face with his hands and stroked his thumbs over her cheekbones. “I’ve let him go. At last. I finally get that it’s my choices that will define my life. Not who my father was.”
She stared up into his eyes and read only love shining back at her. Her heart started racing again and that silly balloon of hope was back.
“I want to believe, Sam. I really do.”
But how could she? He’d chosen his work over her so many times, she didn’t know if he even could change.
“Do it, Mia. Believe me. Take one more chance on me. I won’t let you down this time. I’m tired of emptiness, Mia. I want the magic and the magic lives inside you. I want real Christmases. I want laughter. Joy. Passion. And that’s all with you.” His cell phone rang and grumbling, he took it out of his pocket and never checked the screen before he wound up and pitched it over the rail and into the ocean.
“What?” Shocked, she turned to look at the sea then back to him. “What did you just do? That could have been work calling.”
“I hope it was,” he said firmly and held her again, looking into her eyes, willing her to believe him. “I hate that you’re surprised by me choosing you over a business call. You shouldn’t have to be. You should have been able to expect that your husband—because we are still married—would choose you over business or anything else.
“I’m so sorry for that, Mia. Sorry for not realizing what I had while I had it.”
“Oh Sam.” Her heart was full and her hands were shaking so badly, champagne sloshed out of her glass onto her hand.
Sam took it and tossed it, too.
“Stop doing that!” Shaking her head, she said, “I never expected you to ignore your work. I love my job at the bakery. I only ever wanted to know that I was important to you, too.”
Sam threaded his fingers into her hair and let his gaze move over her face. “You are more important than anything else in my life.”
It was so hard to breathe with her heart pounding and the hope balloon swelling until it filled her chest.
“What does that mean for us, Sam?”
“It means I want to stay married. We can have the lawyers pull the divorce papers before they go through.”
“Sam...”
“Stay with me, Mia.” He kissed her fast. “Make babies with me.”
“Really?” She blinked up at him and her eyes filled with tears. She had to blink faster just to clear them.
“I want a family with you. Maybe I always did but I was too scared to even consider it.” He bent down and kissed her again, harder, faster. “But I’m more scared of losing you than I am of trying to be a good father.”
“You will be a good one,” she said. “A great one.”
He gave her a half-smile. “I can promise to do my absolute best. I love you, Mia. I will love our kids and we’ll have as many as you want. A family with you—a future with you—is all I really want. Mia, you’re all I can see of the future. Without you, I don’t have one.”
“Sam, you’re making me cry.”
“That’s a good sign,” he said with a grin. “I like it.”
“Of course you do,” she said on a laugh.
The first stars appeared overhead and the sounds of the party drifted to them as they stood alone on the deck.
“We’ll buy a house anywhere you want,” he said quickly as if trying to convince her before her tears dried. “Hell, we can live next door to Maya and Joe.”
Now she laughed harder. “Next door might be a little too close.”
“Okay. That’s fine, too. Anything, Mia. Anything to make you happy. I swear I’m a different man.”
“Not too different I hope. I always liked—loved—who you were, Sam. I just wanted more of you.”
“You’ll have it,” he swore. “And if I ever do screw up again, you have to call me on it and I’ll fix it. I never want to lose you again.”
Smiling through her tears, Mia said, “I can’t lose you again either, Sam.”
“You won’t. I swear it.” He let her go long enough to dip into his pocket and come out with a ring. He took her right hand in his and slipped the emerald-and-diamond band onto her finger.
When he looked into her eyes this time, he said, “We’re already married, so I expect you to put your rings back on when we get home.”
She laughed and nodded, looking from the ring to his eyes.
“But this one,” he said softly, “I want you to have to mark my promise to you.
“I will love you forever, Mia Harper Buchanan. And I will love the children we make together and I will give you all everything I have.”
Mia looked down at the glittering ring on her finger, then up into the most beautiful blue eyes she’d ever seen. “I love you, Sam. Always have. Always will. And I’m so glad you came home.”
“You’re my home, Mia. My home. My heart. My everything.”
And when he kissed her, Mia felt her whole world come right again and she knew that the future stretching out in front of them was filled with all the love she’d ever dreamed of.
* * *
Look for these other holiday romances from
USA TODAY bestselling author Maureen Child:
Maid Under the Mistletoe
Tempting the Texan
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by Karen Booth
One
Clay Morgan was too much—a skyscraper of a man with stormy blue-gray eyes and a mop of nearly black hair that begged for Astrid Sterling’s touch. She watched him from across the room at the bustling cocktail party as he stood apart from the crowd, observing. Taking it all in. An architect, he possessed a brilliant mind, a brain that could create something out of nothing. It was a marvel to see in action, a luxury Astrid had every workday. But Clay also had a stern heart, possibly chiseled out of ice. Or at least that was all Astrid could surmise, judging by the disposition he saved for her.
She’d done nothing to deserve it. Not a thing. And it was slowly driving her mad.
Grant Singleton was hosting this evening, at his showpiece of a home in La Jolla, California. Grant was CEO of the company Astrid worked for, Sterling Enterprises, a real estate development firm started by Astrid’s now-deceased ex-husband. Astrid also owned seventeen percent of the company, so she wasn’t your average employee. Although Clay, who worked with her on the Seaport Promenade team, treated her as though she was.
She plucked a glass of champagne from a tray when one of the party’s servers offered. “Thank you,” she said to the young man.
“Beautiful night,” he answered, by way of small talk.
Astrid looked over her shoulder. Outside the wall of windows rimming Grant’s modern home, tall palms bent in the swift ocean breeze. The fronds chaotically ruffled in the wind, set against an inky, moonlit sky. The scene was like Clay—shadowy and mysterious—but calling to her all the same. She wished she could be out there with him right now, so they could be alone, away from the office, and she could try to shake free some of what was pent up in his head. She was desperate for answers. Why was he so cold and closed off? Why did he treat her with such utter disdain?
“Absolutely gorgeous.” The server’s voice got her attention.
Astrid turned back, catching him as he stole an eyeful of her. She smiled and ignored the way it made her feel like an object. She was more than used to it by now, and had learned not to acknowledge it or question it or even care. It happened dozens of times a day. Funnily enough, when she’d been a gangly and awkward teen, she would have done anything for that sort of male attention. When she finally grew into her frame and her sharp edges began to round out, her whole world changed—a modeling career, a one-way ticket out of her home country of Norway, and ultimately, a boulder of a diamond from Johnathon Sterling. The marriage didn’t last, but she’d had a few years of his love. She was grateful for what it had given her. She certainly wouldn’t be standing in this room right now if it hadn’t been for him.
“Thank you again,” she said to the server, impatient to return her focus to Clay. This was one of the rare times she got to see him away from work, and she wanted to study his interactions with others, particularly his sister, Miranda, who had just arrived. Astrid’s connection to Miranda was improbable—Miranda had been married to Astrid’s ex-husband, Johnathon, when he died two months ago. Astrid also, quite unfortunately, had learned a terrible secret about the start of Miranda’s marriage to Johnathon. Astrid was desperate to keep it buried forever, but it was eating at her nonetheless. Astrid liked Miranda quite a bit. Plus, she knew what it was like to have once been wed to a man who took whatever he wanted.
“Let me know if you need anything,” the server said before departing.
What I really need is a map of Clay Morgan, or at the very least, a set of instructions.
On the other side of the room, Grant gently tapped a spoon against his champagne glass, begging for everyone’s attention. Tara, the first of Johnathon Sterling’s wives, joined him. Together, Tara, Miranda, and Astrid had controlling interest of Sterling Enterprises. The announcement Grant was about to make likely impacted them all, greatly.
“I first want to thank you all for coming this evening. I have several exciting announcements to make.” Grant’s warm brown eyes lit up with anticipation. He loved his job and was an able company leader.
Clay, for his part, stuffed his hands into his pants pockets and leaned against a nearby column. Astrid couldn’t help but admire the long plane of his body—the defined chest currently wrapped up in a well-made black dress shirt, the dip of his trim waist, and the legs that seemed to stretch on for eternity. She marveled at his ability to convey power and brilliance in the most casual of ways, all while he remained oblivious to the effect he had on her and quite possibly, other women.
“As many of you know,” Grant continued, “About two weeks ago, on September 7, Sterling Enterprises passed the first round for the Seaport Promenade project with the city. We couldn’t have done it without the dedication of the entire team, including Clay Morgan, Astrid Sterling, and of course, Tara.” Grant reached for Tara’s hand, and Astrid saw the moment when their fingers hooked and their connection became palpable. They’d fallen in love, despite the fact that Tara had sworn there was nothing going on between them. “Which leads me to my next announcement. Tara and I are not only planning to operate the company as co-CEOs from this day forward, we’re engaged to be married.”
There was a gasp from the throng of guests, followed quickly by a roar of applause and guests hurrying to offer their congratulations. Astrid hung back, and she couldn’t ignore the fact that Clay was doing the same. Astrid had her own reasons for being reticent about the purported happy news. She, Tara, and Miranda had a deal. They were supposed to be a coalition within Sterling, and the whole thing had been Tara’s idea, a plan hatched after Johnathon divided his majority interest in the company between his three wives. Tara’s engagement to the current CEO would at best divide her loyalties, and at worst, tear them away for Miranda and Astrid.
Astrid wound her way through the crowd until she reached Miranda, who was standing not far from Tara and Grant, apparently waiting for the moment when she could congratulate them.
“Did you know about this?” Astrid asked.
Miranda shook her head. “I had my suspicions. It makes perfect sense, doesn’t it? They’ve known each other for years, and the few times I’ve been around them both, I definitely sensed a spark.”
“But co-CEOs?” Astrid asked the question as quietly as possible. “Between that and the engagement, it seems that Tara has fully aligned herself with Grant, when she was supposed to be doing that with us.”
Miranda nodded, focusing on Astrid. She was one of the few people who took Astrid seriously. “Let’s talk to her, then. See where we stand.”
They approached Tara, who seemed totally swe
pt up by the moment. “Can we talk with you?” Astrid was already leading them into a corner of the room for privacy.
“Yes. Of course. What’s up?” Tara asked.
“First off, congratulations,” Miranda said.
Astrid was more than a little annoyed that she had to be the one solely focused on business right now. “Yes, congratulations. I’m very happy for you both.” She scanned Tara’s face, which was relaxed and confident. “But I also have a question.”
“Let me guess,” Tara said. “You’re concerned that I’m in too deep with Grant.”
“You’re getting married and you’re co-CEOs. I don’t think it’s possible for you to be in any deeper,” Astrid answered.
“Don’t you have to consult with us before you assume the position of co-CEO?” Miranda asked.
“Technically, yes. And of course, you two are able to register your objections, if you have any. But this is good for the three of us. I’m no longer merely floating around the company with an ambiguous role. I have the title and all of the power that affords me. That’s good for us. If anything, it protects our interest in the company.”
Astrid wished she could be so sure. “As long as you’re still dedicated to the Seaport Promenade project.” As far as Astrid was concerned, this was the perfect time for her to be selfish and push her own agenda. That project, a large undertaking for the city that involved what would eventually be a vast public space, kept her working with Clay. She very much wanted the chance. If he truly didn’t like her, she at least had to figure out why.
“Yes. I need some assurances that it will happen,” Miranda added. She had her own reasons for caring deeply about the Seaport. It had been Johnathon’s pet project before his untimely death more than two months ago. “Any progress on naming the park after Johnathon?”
“I’m still working on that,” Tara said.
Just then, Grant waved Tara over. Clay had joined him, and the two were quickly deep in discussion.
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