Let’s make this a new start, his father had said to him. And it was exactly that. A new start for him and his dad, a new start for the store, and most importantly a new beginning for him. For the first time in his life, he could see himself settling down, he could see himself putting family first—a wife, kids, anything seemed possible. Everything seemed possible.
“What are you thinking?” Merry asked, looking up at him with those amazing green eyes.
“I’m thinking that I’m the luckiest guy in the world,” he said, gently stroking her face with his fingers.
“And I’m the luckiest girl in the world,” she said.
“Which makes us perfect for one another,” he replied.
He leant down and kissed her, then pulled her close again. They really were perfect for one another, he knew.
“I really hope this is the first of many Christmases together,” she said.
“It will be,” he replied with a contended sigh. “It will be.”
And they sat there, in the silence of the city. They sat there, in the warmth of winter, as the snow fell all around them. They sat there, truly and deeply and madly in love.
Epilogue
Christmas Eve
Merry wasn’t sure what had woken her.
She sat up, yawning into the dark. It took her a moment to remember where she was—the huge bed and the Egyptian cotton sheets still unfamiliar. She leant over and switched on the bedside lamp, blinking as the room came into focus.
It was huge, the décor elegant and expensive. And other than her, it was empty. Christian had invited her to spend Christmas with him at their family home, and had graciously given her the nicest guest room in the entire mansion. The place was enormous, a palace, really, in the middle of New York—easily big enough for her, and Christian, and Lewis, plus their family butler.
It was big enough for her folks, too. Christian had flown them in from Nebraska that morning, as a surprise, and Merry had wept with joy when they’d arrived. Her mom had gone to bed early, exhausted from the flight, but she and her dad had spent hours catching up. Of all the gifts Christian had given her, the chance to spend Christmas with her parents was the best of all.
Well, almost the best.
She cocked her head, listening for the noise that had woken her. She could hear Christian snoring gently in the next room. Since the night of the party, they had barely spent an hour apart—even when they were working in the store. He’d stayed on as janitor, because they were so understaffed. He seemed to enjoy the work, and that was something Merry loved about him. He was worth billions, she had discovered, but the money didn’t change anything. He was so down to earth, he was so kind, there wasn’t the slightest thing about him that seemed elite or remote.
When they weren’t working, they spent their time in the conservatory on the roof—which, they discovered, was tended lovingly by Mrs. Cradley. Christian had bought her several new plants, and he and Merry delighted in watering them and pruning them together while the city busied itself below. Mrs. Cradley was no longer the dragon lady, she was just Catherine, and she was a celebrity in the store ever since security footage of her chasing Adrian out the door with a clipboard went viral. Needless to say, Merry hadn’t heard from her ex since that night, which was one Christmas tradition she was delighted to say goodbye to.
Another thumping noise echoed up the stairs, and Merry slipped out of bed. It wasn’t quite three in the morning, and other than the occasional honking horn or siren, the city was silent. She pulled a bathrobe over her pajamas and opened the door, peering out onto the enormous landing. Sure enough, there were more noises from below. Part of her wondered if she needed to call the cops, but there was such a warm feeling in the house, such a sense of love and belonging, that she decided not to.
Trying to be as quiet as she could, she skipped down the stairs, walking down the long, wide corridor. The rustling noises were coming from the living room, and when she peeked around the door she couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing.
Santa stood there, placing a present by the giant Christmas tree that she and Christian had chosen and decorated. It wasn’t the real Santa, of course. It was the store Santa, and as he stood up, rubbing his back, he began to laugh.
“So, Merry,” he said in his booming, friendly voice. “Do you believe in Christmas magic now?”
He adjusted his wire-rimmed spectacles and gave her the biggest, friendliest smile.
“Uh,” said Merry, not quite sure what to say. She thought back to the night she’d walked into the grotto and made her wish. “I do,” she said, smiling. “It came true.”
“They always do,” said Santa. “If you believe.”
“Thank you,” said Merry.
Santa smiled at her.
“I should be going,” he said. “It’s a busy night.”
“Of course,” said Merry, laughing. “But what are you doing here?”
Santa tapped his nose.
“It’s a secret,” he said. “Merry Christmas, my dear. Keep believing.”
“I will,” said Merry. “I promise.”
She heard the creak of a stair behind her, and turned to see Lewis Carroll shuffling down them, wiping the sleep from his eyes. He seemed to have grown younger in the last couple of weeks, and his terrible cough had eased. She wondered if having Christian home had healed him in some way—not permanently, but maybe just enough. It had been his Christmas wish, she guessed, and just like hers, it had come true. She looked back into the living room, but Santa was nowhere to be seen. Flecks of snow and soot drifted from the fireplace, dancing around each other.
“Can’t sleep?” said Lewis as he walked up to her, smiling.
“Oh,” said Merry, mystified. “I… I heard something. There was somebody here.”
Lewis laughed.
“Dressed in red?” he asked, and Merry nodded.
“He drops by from time to time,” said Lewis. “We’re old friends. To be honest, he hasn’t stopped by for a few years. It’s nice to know he’s back.”
Merry opened her mouth to ask what on earth was going on, then snapped it closed again. She’d made a promise to keep believing, and it wasn’t a difficult one to keep.
“Go back to bed, Merry,” Lewis said. “And thank you. I haven’t said it yet, but I’m eternally grateful.”
“For what?” she asked.
“For giving Christian something to stay for,” he said. “None of this would have happened without you. I stopped making wishes a long time ago. You make me want to start again. Sleep well.” He gave her a tired smile. “Give my boy a cuddle from me. I really do love him, you know.”
“Me too,” she replied.
Lewis nodded, disappearing into the kitchen. Merry skipped back upstairs, her heart ringing like a Christmas bell from her encounter in the living room. She walked to the door of her guest room, then stopped. Taking a deep breath, she made her way instead to Christian’s room. His door was open, and she crept through, climbing beneath the covers. He murmured in his sleep, wrapping his strong arm around her, and she had to put a hand over her mouth to stop the giggles of happiness escaping.
“Merry Christmas, Christian,” she whispered.
“Merry Christmas, Merry, my love,” he replied, half asleep.
She nestled into him, yawning. And as she drifted off to sleep she knew in her heart that this would be the merriest Christmas of all.
About the Author
Katie Evergreen loves writing romance novels, and drinking tea. Quite often she is doing both at the same time. She currently lives in England, where she dreams of bumping into her own billionaire. The MY BILLIONAIRE A-Z is her first series of novels, and she’d love to know what you think! Feel free to get in touch on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, or at her website, katieevergreen.com. Thanks for reading! :-)
Also by Katie Evergreen
My Antisocial Billionaire
My Bereaved Billionaire
My Dashing Billionaire
… for an exclusive extract from the next book in the My Billionaire A-Z series, MY DASHING BILLIONAIRE.
Naïve young painter Everly Simpson has won the chance of a lifetime—an opportunity to study at the most prestigious art college in London. Traveling alone, all the way from her home town in Kansas, Everly has to battle not only homesickness and loneliness, but also a fellow artist determined to sabotage her work. It’s almost enough to send her packing, until she comes face to face with the dashing patron of the college—a man who admires her as much as her talent.
Thirty-first in line to the British throne, Edward Harrington has a problem. Every year, his charity finances an art scholarship to find an undiscovered new talent, but this year he has fallen for one of the artists. Can he remain impartial and distant? And can he convince the royal household that a poor American girl is worthy of his love?
A painter thrown into a world she doesn’t know, who finds love in the most unlikely of subjects. A man whose family has already lined him up with a suitable woman, who yearns for freedom. A secret romance that could rock the very fabric of the royal household. With everything to play for, and everything to lose, what kind of future will they paint for themselves?
The fourth in the acclaimed My Billionaire A-Z, a clean billionaire romance series, My Dashing Billionaire takes you to the heart of Britain—tea, scones, and plenty of romance.
1
Everly Simpson ducked her head against the driving rain as she ran toward the gallery. Even after being here for two weeks, Everly still hadn’t worked out the maps for the underground, and she was battling against the time as well as the weather. She reached the tall, red-brick steps and jogged up them as best she could in sparkly silver heels, pushing through the revolving door at the top. Everly shook the rain from her jacket and took a moment to get her breath back. The other people wandering around the gallery looked like they were used to dealing with the rain, she thought they seemed prepared for every eventuality.
And so they should, Everly thought as she smiled to herself. This is London, after all.
It was mid-winter, the beginning of January, and in the last two weeks alone Everly had witnessed rain that made her normally dark, silken hair turn as bristly as a paint brush, hail hard enough to knock her sideways, strong winds that had almost whipped her portfolio out from her hands, and sun strong enough to burn her already golden skin.
It’s no wonder the Brits always go on about their weather, Everly chuckled to herself as she tucked her jacket over her arm and headed for the stairs.
“Evening, Arthur!” Everly waved at the security guard who was perched on a high stool beside the door to the stairwell.
“Evenin’, Miss,” Arthur replied with a smile. He lifted his security cap from his head, revealing a mass of white hair. “Did you get lost again?”
“What can I say?” she replied, throwing the door open and talking over her shoulder as she went. “Your roads make no sense, let alone your underground system.”
She heard Arthur laugh a throaty wheeze as the door closed behind her. Goodness knows how he would cope if he had to actually do some security work, when he got so out of breath just laughing at his own jokes. A soft vanilla scent had followed her through the door from where it enveloped him around his work stool. Everly had only realized it was the scent of tobacco when she’d caught him sneaking out the fire exit and lighting up his pipe a few days ago. He had been standing right underneath a no smoking sign, too. But Everly let it slide. Arthur had been a godsend since she had arrived here from Colby, Kentucky—a town whose weather system was as predictable as its road system.
At the top of the stairs, Everly pushed through the door and slid into the back of a large room full of people. They were all dressed for the occasion in suits and gowns, and the smell of perfume mingled with aftershave hung heavy in the air. Luckily, they were all facing in the other direction and didn’t notice her late arrival. There was a general muttering of voices, people talking to each other quietly, the anticipation of what was to come buzzing around the room. The occasional sweet ting of crystal sang out as the champagne glasses were topped up by the waiting staff. Everly welcomed the gentle noise as she took in the surroundings.
The walls of the room were decorated with the most astonishing paintings—oils on canvas showing beautiful scenic views, elegant watercolors portraying still life, detailed portraits of all ages and races, thought-provoking abstract designs and sculptures. Everly could see her own artwork over the heads of the crowd, hanging just off-center behind the microphone stand at the head of the room. She felt the nerves sloshing around in her stomach knowing that such a large group of people were studying her work. A quick check around and Everly thought there must be at least two hundred people here.
Grateful to be hidden at the back, Everly ran her fingers through her long hair and tried to rescue it from the frizz that was threatening to claim it. She blotted the rain from her cheeks, her sun kissed skin pink from the biting cold. She’d worn the only dress that she’d brought with her on the long flight over the Atlantic; a dark blue floor-length gown with little pretend jewels dotting the sweetheart neckline. The sapphire gems matched her eyes almost perfectly. Everly’s mom and dad had bought it for her despite eating nothing but grilled cheese for the rest of the month so they could afford to pay for it.
Everly sighed, trying not to think about how much she missed her mom and dad. They had been the driving force behind her application for a month-long exchange program to London. The community college she was studying at in Kansas hadn’t been her first choice, but there was no way she or her parents could afford for her to study anywhere else. It was a good little college, though, and when the opportunity had presented itself to study abroad, Everly had jumped—with a little push from her parents—at the chance.
Now, standing here in the gallery space that had been her home for the past two weeks, Everly knew that tonight was make or break. Out of all the artists here tonight, only a select few would be asked to stay on in London for the rest of the month to complete the exchange program. Everly really didn’t want to have to pack up and head home now, she’d feel like she was letting her parents down and she really didn’t want to disappoint them. She had video-called with them before she’d left her dorm room earlier in the evening. They’d been unable to keep the grins from their faces as Everly had spun around in her new dress. Her mom’s eyes had glistened with tears. Everly hadn’t told them there was a possibility she’d be flying back the very next day, she’d worry about that when she had to. For now, the only thing she needed to focus on was not shaking too much when the presentation began.
An impeccably dressed waiter waved a tray of champagne under Everly’s nose. She shook her head at him and he disappeared back into the crowd. There were quite a few artists mingling around the room. Many of them had come from universities across England, only a handful of the thirty students were from overseas like Everly. There had been a welcome party when they’d all arrived, but Everly had felt so jetlagged after the flight that she hadn’t had the energy to join in. Since then she had the feeling that they all thought she was rude. So she’d kept herself to herself over the last two weeks, only really chatting to Arthur. The lecturers and artists who had been hired to help had all been amazing, but they were spread thinly between the thirty students who all vied for their time and energy.
The gallery was attached to London University, a prestigious college based in the heart of the capital city. The application had been in the form of a portfolio, and Everly had been told her work had shone, separating it from most of the other applicants. But when they’d dropped the bombshell that it would only be a two-week vacation for the majority of the students, Everly had figured she wouldn’t be staying. She’d never been her own cheerleader, and now, surrounded by such incredible talent, wasn’t the moment she was going to start shaking her pompoms.
Their brief for the first two w
eeks had been to show the judging panel what the exchange meant to them. They’d all worked their behinds off to come up with a piece of work to exhibit, to be deemed worthy of the exchange. Those five lucky enough to be chosen would spend the next weeks being taught by the best in the business, exhibited all over the city, and get the chance to win a place at the university as a fully-funded post-graduate. Everly could only dream of those kinds of opportunities.
The door behind her swung open, bumping her slightly.
“Oh, I’m so terribly sorry,” said a voice from behind the door.
Everly shifted herself out of the way, opening the door for the other latecomer and feeling relieved that she wasn’t the only one who hadn’t arrived on time. It was only when he stepped inside the room that Everly felt her knees go weak and her cheeks catch fire. His crooked bow tie made him look adorable. As did the rest of him. He was the most attractive man Everly had ever laid eyes on. From the top of his glossy chocolate brown hair to the tips of his well shined shoes.
“Sorry, sorry,” he said again, shutting the door quietly behind him. “Has it started yet?” He nodded toward the front of the gallery and the microphone still awaiting its speaker.
Everly shook her head, not wanting to open her mouth in case she said something ridiculous.
“I got stuck in the most horrendous traffic,” the man said, droplets of rain water falling from him like a fountain. “I’m jolly lucky to be here at all.”
He was so British it made Everly want him to keep talking to her and never stop. She loved the accent, and the politeness, and the little words that she didn’t really get. His deep brown eyes twinkled as he unwrapped his tartan scarf from around his neck.
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