by Leslie North
“Is that how it was for you and Shayma?” Heath leaned his hips back against the side table behind him. “Her family had some reservations, right?”
“Yeah.” Murphy had traveled to Al Dar Nasrani for their wedding ceremony, Shayma insisting that her parents would love and accept him once they met him and saw how happy their daughter was with him. Heath had been there, acting as co-best man along with Daveed and it hadn’t seemed to go as smoothly as she’d predicted. There’d been lots of interrogation sessions between Murphy and Shayma’s father, lots of wary looks at the funny Americans treading on their precious island soil, lots of tension between both sides. But seeing how happy Murphy and Shayma were now and how the strife had given way to a tentative accord with the news of a baby on the way, Heath had hope that the much less daunting problems between him and Aileen would vanish once they said their I Do’s.
“But we got past those. Her mom’s even coming to stay with us once the baby’s born to help Shayma.” Murphy’s smile faltered slightly. “It’s good. It’ll all be good.”
“What’s good?” Daveed said, coming up to join their group.
“I was just telling Heath that he’s gonna be fine.” Murphy crossed his arms and rocked back on his heels. “Also, that he’ll make my sister very, very happy or suffer the consequences.”
“Yes, I can see how well that worked. He looks ready to puke in his shoes.” Daveed shook his head and sighed. “Seriously, though. I don’t know what you’re worried about. I’ve never seen two people more perfect for each other than you and Aileen. Well, perhaps except for Mel and I. You challenge each other, you support each other, you make each other better people because of your relationship. There is nothing better than that.”
Heath snorted. “When the hell did you get so wise?”
Daveed shrugged. “Maybe some of Mel’s new college education is rubbing off on me.”
“Maybe.” Heath laughed. Daveed and Mel had permanently relocated to Al Dar Nasrani a few months back. Just because Daveed had abdicated his throne for the woman he loved didn’t mean he wasn’t still deeply interested in the affairs of his island home. Between him and his two brothers they’d nearly talked his father into instituting a democracy in their tiny country and ending the monarchy that had been Daveed’s birthright. Daveed couldn’t have been happier. Add in his new wife and happy marriage and he too seemed ecstatic. Mel had since taken advantage of the free schooling available to all permanent residents of Al Dar Nasrani and enrolled in their highly acclaimed university. She was studying business and marketing last time Heath checked. “Yeah. I know I have no reason to be nervous, but I still am. Is that weird? I’m afraid I’m not good enough for her.”
“You’re not,” Murphy said, then grinned. “None of us are good enough for the women we love. But we try every day to be better. You’re a good man, brother. That’s all anyone can ask.”
“Can’t believe I’m saying this, but he’s right,” Daveed said. “Now, the girls sent me to get you. They’re ready to start the ceremony.”
The earth fell out from under Heath’s feet and his stomach plummeted along with it. Luckily, his buddies were there to keep him upright if he fell. After a few deep breaths for courage, the trio made their way to the doors of the ballroom and stared inside. The room was packed with guests seated on linen-covered folding chairs and the low murmur of conversation helped steady Heath’s nerves.
Along both sides of the massive room, floor to ceiling Christmas trees lined the walls, spaced about six feet apart. Between them were low tables decorated with garlands and delicate glass ornaments in jewel tones. A white runner stretched down the center of the room to the front of the space, where a dais had been set up for the wedding party to stand on. The minister was there, busying herself with preparations for her readings and the vows. A large arbor had been set up and laced with white and red roses and lilies.
“Ready?” Murphy asked, standing on Heath’s right side.
“Ready,” Daveed said, flanking him on the left.
Heath took a deep breath, then nodded. “Ready.”
They walked down the aisle toward the front of the room and took their places in front of the dais on the right-hand side. The wedding was a small affair, per Aileen’s wishes—about thirty guests and just the guys and their wives as attendants. To distract himself, Heath looked out over the gathered crowd and spotted his father about three rows back from the front, his new wife on his arm. His dad had decided to leave the stress of New York behind and run his company remotely from his new ranch in Wyoming. The laid-back lifestyle seemed to suit him, given his deep tan and relaxed demeanor. Of course, the twenty-something, supermodel trophy spouse clinging to his arm probably didn’t hurt either. Heathcliff, Sr. caught his son’s eye and raised a hand in greeting. Heath waved back and smiled.
On the bride’s side of the room, amongst friends and fellow journalists, sat Aileen’s boss from The Globe. Aileen had been a bit on edge lately because the guy kept bugging her to cash in on some of Heath’s connections and score an interview with Senator Lawrence, who was currently serving a two-year sentence in a white-collar prison in upstate New York. Seemed Lawrence had sold rights to his memoirs to the highest bidding publisher to raise money for his legal fund to fight the fraud charges against him. Aileen had been adamant about not wanting to speak to Milford Lawrence again, no matter how big the scoop. In fact, lately, she’d been talking about getting out of the newspaper business entirely and trying her hand at fiction writing. Heath would support her no matter what she chose. He’d told her that and earned a nice long kiss in return.
In the front row on the bride’s side sat Fiona and Devon MacLean, the elderly couple who had helped Aileen when she’d first come to New York and the reason she’d gone undercover in the first place. In a way, Heath supposed, they’d brought him and Aileen together and he’d grown just as fond of them in the past year as Aileen was. They were sort of his surrogate parents now too, especially with his dad gone.
“Look sharp, buddy,” Murphy said, elbowing him in the side. “They’re ready to start.”
Heath looked down the long white center aisle and spotted his bride at the entrance. His breath caught and his heart stuttered. Not from nerves this time but from the sheer beauty of Aileen. She’d been sure to keep her dress a secret from him up to this point, citing traditions and old wives’ tales and some such nonsense. But now… Wow!
He swallowed hard as the string quartet he’d hired to perform the music began Pachelbel’s Canon in D Major. Mel started down the aisle first, followed by a gently-rounded Shayma. Both women glowed with excitement and only had eyes for their men.
Finally, the minister gestured and the guests rose and the string quartet switched to the traditional Wedding March. Heath couldn’t take his eyes off Aileen. In her strapless, mermaid style gown of flowing white lace and shimmering beads, she looked like his every fantasy come to life. All he’d ever wanted and nothing he deserved. A little bit of heaven right here on earth.
Her amber gaze remained locked on his the entire way down the aisle until she stood by him at last. She handed off her bouquet of flowers—matching to the ones draped over the arbor, of course—then linked arms with Heath.
As they stepped up onto the dais, Aileen leaned in and whispered, “You look so hot.”
Warmth tingled through him from the compliment, chasing away the chill of his earlier nerves. “And you look incredibly gorgeous, darling.”
Pretty pink color stained her cheeks and the diamond tiara—a family heirloom passed down from Heath’s grandmother to him and kept in trust until this special day—twinkled in her midnight black hair.
The ceremony passed in a blur. He vaguely remembered being asked questions and he must’ve answered them correctly because next thing he knew he was sliding a ring on Aileen’s finger and she was doing the same to him, both while reciting the vows they’d chosen. Finally, the minister pronounced them man and wife and a cheer rose
up from the guests as he swept Aileen into his arms and kissed her deeply.
By the time they separated, the guys were shaking Heath’s hand and smacking him on the back in congratulations and the girls were hugging Aileen. The guests began to file out of the room to head down the hall to another adjoining ballroom where the reception was set up.
Once the room had cleared, Heath stepped down off the dais and extended his hand to Aileen. “Ready to join our guests next door?”
She smiled and stepped down beside him. “I am. But first…”
Aileen turned to face him and cupped his cheeks. “Did I mention you looked hot in that tux, all disheveled and sexy?”
“You did.” He grinned, sliding his arms around her waist to pull her closer. “Then again, you requested it, so I could hardly disappoint my wife on her special day.”
“True.” She slipped her hands around his neck and into the soft hair at his nape. Heath couldn’t suppress his answering shudder at her soft caress. “Say it again?” she asked.
“What?” He frowned. “I could hardly disappoint you?”
“No, the other part.”
His slow smile grew. “My wife?”
“Yes!” Aileen snuggled closer, her heat and the brush of her curves against him making him sigh with contentment. “I love the sound of that.”
“And I love you, darling. That makes us both perfect for each other.”
“I love you too.” She leaned in and kissed him sweetly before pulling away to take his hand and lead him back down the aisle toward the exit, her tone wistful. “Do you think this is it? The pinnacle of our love affair?”
Heath tugged her to him once more at the doors, smiling down into her beautiful face, knowing he’d made the most wonderful choice ever by marrying her. “Nah. Trust me, darling. The best is definitely yet to come.”
End of A Billionaire for Christmas
All I Want for Christmas is... Book 3
PS: Do you enjoy mixing business with pleasure? Then keep reading for an exclusive extract from The Billionaire’s Tenacious Boss.
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BLURB
Stephen Maxfield has the chance to save the business his father built, and only one woman stands in his way.
With Duncan Enterprises crumbling, Stephen Maxfield knows that a lucrative building contract could be the ticket to saving the family company. He’s always been regarded as the unpredictable brother, and this time is no different. He’s prepared to do what he thinks is right—even if it means ousting his own father. Stephen faces another obstacle, however, in the form of Angelia Lopez, the gorgeous Duncan VP with her own plans to save the company.
Angie Lopez has been groomed as Duncan’s successor, and she’s convinced that selling off pieces of the company is the way to save it. She’s busy making deals to break apart the business, while hoping that it brings together the Maxfield family. But when she comes up against Stephen Maxfield—all six feet eight inches of him—she’ll have to work harder than ever to keep her focus. Angie’s been burned by men in the past, and Stephen sets her aflame.
Stephen has no time for romance, and Angie is on a dating time-out. But if the two can see beyond their business plans, they just may find they’re the perfect match.
Grab your copy of The Billionaire’s Tenacious Boss from
www.LeslieNorthBooks.com
* * *
EXCERPT
She was attractive. There was no doubt about that. Her dark hair was pulled tightly up in a bun, and Stephen wondered what she would do if he reached out and raked his hands through it, pulling out all the pins. He wanted to know how long her hair was. Would it sweep past her shoulders? Swing down to the small of her back? Brush all the way down to that luscious…
“Is there a problem?”
His eyes snapped back up, and he realized that her dark eyes were staring intently at him. There was a hint of temper in her voice, but it was controlled.
“No ma’am,” he said politely with a smile. “Just lost in thought.” He wasn’t at all ashamed of the fact that she’d caught him staring at her.
Her eyes narrowed, but she turned back around again. He knew that she could see him reflected in the gleam of the elevator doors, so he kept his eyes from straying again. She was simply a small distraction from what was really weighing on his mind. Part of him couldn’t believe he was in San Francisco again. Duncan had called, and he’d come running. It was pathetic.
There was something nostalgic about riding in the elevator again. He’d enjoyed more than one woman in this elevator when he was younger. His eyes flickered up at the camera and he smiled to himself. He’d given the security officers quite the show. What would the lone woman riding with him do if he pushed her up against the wall and pressed his lips to hers?
She was dressed in a gray blazer and a skirt that showed off her tanned legs. Conservative. Business-appropriate. She was more than likely a secretary or a receptionist. Good old Duncan did like them young and pretty.
“You do realize that I can see you, right?” she demanded. Stephen smiled as his eyes snapped up again. She hadn’t even bothered to turn around, and he met her look in the distorted reflection.
“I’m sorry,” he said easily. “You’re a nice distraction.”
She turned around and leaned against the wall, deliberately easing her gaze up and down his body. He grinned unabashedly. “There’s nothing wrong with a little distraction every now and then,” she said softly. “I’ve always wanted to know what kind of tools you construction workers carried in your tool belt. Are you all talk?”
She thought he was a construction worker? Well, he was dressed in jeans and a work shirt. “That depends on what kind of tools you’re looking for,” he said in a husky voice as he stepped closer towards her.
Lifting her chin, she smiled coyly at him. “I’ve always had a thing for a man in a hard hat.”
“Come by my room later tonight, and I’ll show you every hard thing I have.”
When he was inches from her, she tossed back her head and laughed. “God. You men are so easy.” The doors opened, and she nimbly stepped outside. “Have a nice day. I hope you looked your fill.”
He stood in the elevator for a moment, stunned. Quickly, he realized this was his floor too, and he hopped out before the door closed.
Her heels clacked on the tile floor as he followed her. Out of curiosity, he stayed a few steps behind her. If she was on this floor, she was, no doubt, closer to being Duncan’s personal assistant than a simple secretary. But this meeting was only for the Board. So what was she doing here?
“What are you doing? That wasn’t anything serious,” she hissed as she whirled around.
“It wasn’t?” he asked innocently.
“No. And you shouldn’t be up here. Are you lost?”
Was he lost? Well wasn’t that an interesting turn. “Maybe,” he said casually. “Is there a reason I shouldn’t be up here?”
Her features relaxed. “I’m sorry. I’m a little high-strung today. This floor is for VP members only. We have an important business meeting in the works. If you let me know who you’re waiting for, I can help direct you to the right place.”
“I have a meeting with Gabe Maxfield,” he said with a straight face.
“Ah. Well Mr. Maxfield will be preoccupied in the meeting for a while. You’re welcome to wait by his office, or I can let him know that you’d like to reschedule, Mr.…?”
“Maxfield,” he said with a smile.
Frustration flashed across her face. “Yes, I know you’re waiting
on Mr. Maxfield. You know what, I’m sure Gabe will realize his mistake, and he’ll be in touch with you as soon as the meeting is over. On behalf of Duncan Enterprises, I apologize for the inconvenience.”
She had the power to apologize for the inconvenience? This was getting more and more interesting by the moment. She flashed him a small smile before spinning on her heels and moving faster. She must have realized that she was late.
At the end of the corridor, she pushed aside the glass doors. Through the panes, Gabe caught his eye and raised an eyebrow. Stephen hadn’t actually called to announce he would be attending. The truth was, Gabe wasn’t sure if Stephen was coming or not.
The woman rounded on him. “I thought I made it clear. This is a private meeting,” she said as she slapped her hands on his chest.
“Is it now? And you’re invited to this private meeting?” he asked as he cocked his head.
“Of course I’m invited,” she snapped. “I’m Angela Lopez, the Senior VP of the company. Do I need to call security?”
Surprised, his eyes looked back up to Gabe. Everyone was staring at them. “Of course, you are,” he agreed with obvious reluctance. “Well, you should probably take a seat, Ms. Angela Lopez, Senior VP. It looks like everyone is waiting for you.”
“And I will sit down as soon as you leave!”
He gave her a wide smile. Part of him was about to enjoy this moment. “Why would I leave? I’m invited as well.” Clearing his throat, he turned to the board members. “I’m sorry I’m late. As many of you know, I’m Stephen Maxfield. I got held up in the elevator.”