Her Billionaire Santa

by Allen, Jewel

  Her heart ached for him. To have a baby waiting to come into the world, only for him to be snatched out so cruelly.

  “I lost them on Christmas Day.” He laughed mirthlessly. “On freaking Christmas Day. Gift-wrapped to me in one horrible package. Two cops came to my door. They told me the news and suggested sit down, like that could have helped. I hurled the coffee table at the Christmas tree.” He shut his eyes at the memory.

  The server approached the table, but at Marcus’s forbidding stare, he backed away slowly. “If you need anything…” he started to say before scurrying off.

  “I can’t even imagine,” she said, choking back tears.

  “I still can’t, after all these years. I haven’t wrapped my head around what happened. Why it had to happen to her and to him. To me. To us.””

  Katy wanted to comfort him, but she knew he needed to do it on his own time. Her gaze lingered over his cheek, the little dip on his mouth that she would have called petulant early on now taking on a more noble appearance.

  “Now that I told you that,” he said with a shaky laugh, “you probably expect me to push you away, starting…right now.” He raised defiant eyes to hers, sending a jolt through her body.

  What did one say to that sort of…declaration? “I don’t expect you to do anything. I……frankly, I don’t have much experience in…love.”

  “Love.” His mouth twisted at the word. “I’m not sure I know what that is anymore.”

  Neither did she. They were a pair, both wounded. Both unable to heal each other.

  He got up and shoved his chair back before disappearing into the hotel.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  MARCUS

  Marcus sat in his room in darkness, mulling over their conversation at dinner. Surely, Katy hated him by now. Throughout his litany of rude actions, he hoped she had more self-respect than to accommodate such abuse. If she didn’t do it herself, he would do it for her. He’’d have to drive her away so he wouldn’t need to beat her back.

  With that thought firmly squared in his heart, he felt safe enough to venture back out, in case he happened to stumble upon Katy.

  He found her bundled up in a blanket against a stiff breeze along the pool. Alone. She faced the lagoon, and moonlight left a trail of kisses on her face.

  She was no Amanda, yes.

  Katy was her very own.

  Stars freckled the heavens in a glorious swath. Marcus had never seen such a night sky. Even the previous evening, as he lay out in the open in that silly hammock, clouds had obscured the stars. In New York, he couldn’t see them, not in the city at any rate.

  Whether he liked it or not, Katy burned bright as a star in the heavens, hard to ignore.

  He moved to leave her in peace, but he was too late, and she looked over her shoulder right at him. Then she turned back toward the lagoon.

  Giving him permission to go.

  Or to come to her.

  In the last five years, he’d been good at dodging intimacy and tenderness, and he wanted to do so now.

  An overwhelming need to connect with Katy drove him to the brink of despair. She stirred feelings he’d tried to stamp down since Amanda’s death so he didn’t have to suffer loss again someday.

  It was late; he should go inside. He should leave her alone. He should—

  His feet moved toward her, twin devils stirring trouble.

  He stopped some twenty feet away.

  “Hello,” she said softly over her shoulder.

  Even after his parting words with her today? What exactly had he said?

  Love. He had spat it out like it was a four-letter word.

  She still greeted him with warmth. He had never met anyone who accepted another as unconditionally.

  Since he lost Amanda, his life had meandered aimlessly. Unwittingly, he’d been on his own posada. With Katy, it was as though he was closer to finding a home.

  He approached her. She looked lovely as the evening, the breeze playing with her hair. Her perfume reached his nostrils, and it was all he could do to not reach for her.

  Clenching his fists at his side, he looked up at the heavens. “I would never have seen this if it weren’t for you.”

  “Maybe you would have come here anyway.”

  He heard the smile in her voice.

  “Maybe, but I doubt it.”

  “I didn’t see this,” she gestured toward the courtyard, “until you brought me here.”

  “Then we’re even.”

  “I didn’t know we were keeping score.”

  “Not in a combative sense anyway.”

  In the darkness, he could pretend to be something else. A person who was whole who could give love where it was needed, but he knew that wasn’t true.

  “Look!” she said, pointing at the sky. “A shooting star.”

  Marcus caught the tail end of it.

  “Make a wish,” she said, closing her eyes, “and it shall be granted.”

  He studied her profile, his gaze tracing her delicate features.

  You.

  The thought came unbidden, unwelcome as an interloper.

  No.

  Marcus didn’t have room for Katy in his life. She was too idealistic to want to be part of the bitter darkness he plunged into on a regular basis. She was too young to be saddled with a husband who would only compare her to his first wife all the days of their lives.

  Husband.

  Was he daft? Was he really thinking of marriage when he could have a fling and exorcise his demons with her help?

  He knew Katy was not a lady to trifle with…a fling. He was past that anyway. If he were to settle down once again, he would want something more permanent and lasting.

  He thought he had something permanent and lasting with Amanda.

  Funny how life throws a wrench and then crushes you under its heel.

  “Well?” Katy intruded upon his thoughts. “Did you?”

  “Did I what?”

  “Make a wish.”

  “Not yet,” he lied. “It’s hard to come up with one wish.”

  “There will be other shooting stars,” she said. “No pressure.”

  Her optimism was sometimes contagious, and sometimes tiresome, and in this case, it was the latter. He didn’t want to be happy and cheery all the time. That job was for the Katys of the world. The rest of them had to deal with real problems and heartaches.

  He spoke again, his voice distant. “What did you wish for?”

  She hesitated. “That you could find happiness again.”

  For a long moment, Marcus couldn’t speak. This slip of a girl had given away her wish so he could have happiness in his life.

  “That’s a waste,” he blurted out.

  Her head swiveled. “I have plenty for myself. I don’t need anything, but I knew you needed something.”

  His fists clenched tighter at his side. “What do you know about what I need?” he growled.

  “I just guessed at it, granted…”

  “Well, stop, just stop.” His voice was icy.

  She did. She stopped talking and kept her face averted.

  “How did I get lucky and become your pity project?”

  Her whole body turned toward him. Even in the dark, he could feel her eyes on his face. “You know, I could just walk away right now. Is that what you want?”

  “Maybe,” he muttered.

  “But I won’t.”

  “Well, you’re crazy to stick with me.”

  “First of all, I committed to showing you Conchilla. Next, I know you’re running scared.”

  “Oh?”

  “It can’t be easy to lose your wife and child and want to go on.”

  He didn’t answer. Didn’t want to.

  “But you’re alive,” she said softly. “Wouldn’’t Amanda want you to keep living?”

  The gall of the girl, for presuming. Anger made him livid, just positively livid. No one dared talk to him about what Amanda wanted.

  But he knew, de
ep down, Katy was right.

  “And you,” he lashed back. “You’re running scared too.”

  She fought back a sob. “I trusted you with my secret.”

  “And you, mine. So we’re even,” he ground out through his teeth.

  He stepped closer, until they were just inches away and her face was right in front of his. He could feel her breath on his cheek, coming out in shallow spurts.

  Her eyes grew wide. Fear lurked in them.

  Part of him knew he needed to stop this madness. She was just an innocent bystander caught up in his need to exorcise his demons.

  “You hide behind your charity work. You help people in Guatemala, but what can you show for it?”

  “Is that so bad?” she asked, her voice strained.

  “Only if it keeps you at arm’s length from real people.” He tipped her chin up and searched her eyes.” I’m real, Katy.”

  “You?” she said. “You just said you don’t need anyone——”

  “I don’t,” he said. “But I’’m still a man!”

  And with that, he kissed her.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  KATY

  At the assault of his mouth on hers, Katy froze. It was a punishing kiss; there was nothing gentle about it. There was no love in it, only primal need and desire. He was driving and taking, and her body rebelled with every fiber of her being, pushing against his chest for release.

  And then, suddenly, the kiss changed.

  The pressure eased, and he was teasing her lips with soft brushes that made her ache inside.

  The hands that would have pushed him away suddenly found a new role. Instead of pushing, they splayed on his chest and around, reaching for something solid. They embraced his neck while his arms circled her waist.

  His hand moved from her waist to her hair, threading his fingers through the strands, clutching at her nape and deepening the kiss.

  She was lost and found, all at the same time. She’d never been kissed like this, and, somehow, she doubted that anyone would even come close to kissing her this way again.

  An instant later it was over. He released her abruptly, and she unreeled from him like a top, staggering on weak legs against a lounge chair.

  She wanted to cry.

  His body radiated animosity. There was no affection or respect. He had simply used and discarded her. Shame on her for participating in his hedonistic pleasure for however long that kiss lasted.

  She should slap him. Her hand itched to slap him.

  “Go on,” he goaded. “I’m a monster. I deserve it.” His eyes glittered wildly.

  Her hand stayed at her side.

  “Marcus,” she said, with the last shred of dignity she could muster. “I have traveled the world. I’ve been catcalled, insulted, propositioned, groped, and threatened. Mugged, if it counts that I just gave money to someone in a dark alley, but this takes the cake.”

  Tears pricked her eyes. “I have been nothing but kind to you. Make fun of me if you wish. Express your bitterness when I try to make the best of things, but you dare to use me so…so callously. That is unforgivable. I should have insisted from the start to keep our relationship professional. I take back my wish. There are more deserving people in the world.”

  If she thought he would dial back, she was wrong. Like a storm brewing, he had just begun. The clouds continued to form above him, and he grabbed her arm as though to make his point.

  “Yes,” he said. “A million times yes. There are more people deserving of love and blessings and wives who live and children who grow up. God passed me over, and He now has the last laugh since I’ve lost even the remotest chance to find love with you.”

  She was too angry to contemplate his words as anything but self-serving. This billionaire proved her right. He was not worthy of her trust.

  “You’ll get your million dollars. Don’t worry,” he said.

  The insult had the same finesse as a dog barreling over scraps at a table spilling everything in its wake.

  Her voice sounded flat to her ears. “Is that why you think I’m being nice to you?”

  “No, of course not. You’re too noble for it, but isn’t that your hope? To sway me?”

  She shook her head. “It’s not my job to sway you. I merely wanted you to see for yourself what is going on here so you can make up your own mind.”

  “I could have gone to other places, but I chose to come here. Have you not wondered why?”

  “Because I asked?”

  “You give yourself far too much credit, Miss Oliver.” He paused.

  “What is the reason, then?” she said, exasperated.

  “I prayed about it.”

  Her posture slackened. The fight left her. For some reason, she had assumed he wasn’t the praying kind, and this changed things slightly for her. Made her heart more tender on his behalf. Still, the wall stayed up.

  “Impressed, are you?” he said in the scathing tone she’d endured these past few days.

  “Surprised, more like it.”

  “What, you had so little faith in me that I actually believe in a God still? Heaven forbid I forsake Christmas.”

  “I did think you were bitter about God and that you might not believe in Him anymore.”

  “Well, I’m not ready to enter the priesthood or anything.”

  She was almost afraid to ask. “What do you want from me, Marcus James?”

  He considered her for a long moment. “I could use a friend.”

  “You will always have a friend in me.”

  Surprise registered in his eyes. “Even after all I’ve put you through?”

  “Yes.”

  He hesitated. “Even after that kiss?”

  She could hear the regret in his voice.

  Her cheeks burned, and she was grateful for the darkness. “The kiss changes things.”

  “Meaning?”

  “We can be friends. But that’s it. I’m drawing a line in the sand.”

  His shoulders sagged. “That’s fair, I suppose. I don’t even know how to apologize.”

  She waited for two words.

  I’m sorry.

  When they didn’t come, she made an impatient sound and moved to go.

  As she passed him, she thought his arm flinched, but it must have only been a trick of starlight.

  “Good night,” he said.

  She nodded and walked around him.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  MARCUS

  When Marcus slunk back his hotel room, he didn’t bother to turn on the light.

  What had he done?

  He had driven Katy away. It was exactly what he’d wanted to do from the very start. She also said they needed to keep their distance. Yet…

  He owed Katy an apology.

  He needed to make this right.

  Lord, I don’t know how.

  In the darkness, he moved to the bed, sat, burying his face in his hands.

  Two words. Two stupid words, and he couldn’t be man enough to own up to his mistake. He had been an imbecile.

  Tomorrow. He would go to her tomorrow. Before their 2:30 a.m. departure for the ruins of Tikal.

  Go to her now, came His answer from above.

  Marcus glanced at the clock and grimaced. He must have been sitting there for a long time. It was almost midnight.

  She would be asleep and wouldn’t even want to talk to him.

  Go to her now.

  He walked out of his room and pulled the door shut quietly after him. With steady steps, he walked the length of the hall to her door and then faltered.

  He said a silent prayer. What should I say?

  I’m sorry would be a good start.

  Taking a deep breath, he crossed the hall and knocked on her door. When Katy didn’t answer, he stepped back and prepared to leave.

  The door cracked open. Her face, swollen with tears, looked out at him.

  Sweet, sweet Katy.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. />
  She closed her eyes and hid her face partially behind the door.

  “You hurt me,” she whispered. “Deeply.”

  “I know.”

  She shook her head. “I’m sorry too…because I don’t have it in me right now to forgive you.”

  He leaned his cheek against the door frame. “I understand.”

  “I’m a fairly patient person, Marcus, but I realized tonight that I am no saint.”

  He nodded, afraid to interrupt.

  But that was all she said.

  He murmured, “I just wanted you to know how very, very sorry I am and how I wish I could take back what happened.”

  She hid her face further.

  “I wanted to drive you back with my kiss. To scare you. And then the kiss…changed. I wanted you with every fiber of my being. I scared someone all right. Myself. And then I lashed out.”

  Seconds ticked past. A minute. More.

  Then she spoke. “I understand, because I…I felt it too. But you can’t keep running away, Marcus. Sometime soon, you’ll have to face your demons. Stay to fight. With me, or someone else.”

  “I know.” His voice came out hoarse.

  “Thanks for apologizing.”

  “You are welcome.”

  “Good night, Marcus.”

  After she shut the door, he touched the surface and closed his eyes, pain twisting his gut.

  He whispered, “Good night, Katy.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  KATY

  December 20

  Two a.m. came fast and furious.

  Katy lay in bed, limp and lifeless, and opened her eyes to the darkness. She forced herself to roll out of bed and sank to her knees to pray, but no words came.

  For once, she couldn’t pray, and she trembled with fear. After several minutes, she just said, “Amen,” and got up. It was time to get ready.

  She showered and dressed in layers. In the bathroom mirror, her face looked puffy. Unattractive.

  It didn’t matter anyway.

  Her fingers shook as she finished buttoning her shirt, and she had to lean against the bathroom sink to collect herself.

  Heavenly Father, please, help me have the strength to face Marcus.