The Christmas Bride (Brides of Holland Springs Book 4)

by Marquita Valentine

  She hadn’t started yet. Although they used condoms each time, she was halfway worried that she’d end up pregnant anyway. He’d be forced to stay and be miserable, because there was no way she could make him fall in love with her in a matter of weeks.

  Maybe not even months.

  Could she stay married to a man who might not grow to love her? Might only like and care for her, for the rest of their lives, because he was honorable and kind?

  She couldn’t do that to him, she realized. She couldn’t be the one to take away his potential happiness all over a rash decision. If she were pregnant, then she’d give him joint custody and rights, too. He’d be a great dad.

  They would work together, like adults, and raise their child in two loving homes. Her heart twisted at the thought of not being with Logan every day.

  “Stop being so selfish,” she mumbled to herself.

  “I got off early today and brought you these,” Logan said as he walked inside with a fresh bouquet of flowers. “The florist said you like them.”

  “He was right. I do like them.” She took the flowers from him and put them on the island in the kitchen. “We need to talk.”

  “No, we don’t.” He grabbed her shoulders and spun her around. “We need to go to bed together.”

  She shook her head. “I can’t think if we do that.”

  “Neither can I. It’s the best of both worlds.”

  “But I fall in love with you even more when we have sex,” she said softly. “I can’t separate the two.”

  “Then don’t.”

  “But you deserve more than this,” she protested.

  He gave her a look. “I know what I deserve and it’s not a woman like you, but God decided he liked me anyway.”

  “Oh Lord, Logan.”

  “Let me move in with you, Willow. I’m tired of going to bed without my wife.”

  “I, uh...” She couldn’t think of one good reason for him to not move in. “Okay.”

  A smirk lifted his lips at the corners, but his eyes were full of emotion. “You won’t regret it. I promise.”

  “But what if you do?” she blurted.

  “Trust your husband, Willow,” was his only reply.

  Chapter Eleven

  Logan had never lied to anyone in his life, but he was regularly lying to Willow. He was in love with her, had fell in love when she’d married him in Vegas. Hell, he’d fallen in love with her as soon as she’d told him off for assessing her body parts, as she’d put it.

  Only he’d been too stupid and drunk at the time to realize it.

  It had taken the very real danger of him losing her as soon as she ran outside in her bare feet to get away from him to make him up his game.

  Which was why he’d schemed his way into getting her to admit that she was in love with him and to finally let him move in with her.

  Although, he had meant what he said. He was fucking tired of going to bed without her, tired of waking up without her, too. That one night and morning in Vegas had ruined him.

  She’d ruined him, with her sweet smiles and understanding nature. With the way she decided she was going to fight for her man. The nonsense about him not being happy with her was just that—nonsense.

  “I made your lunch and put it on a cooler on the counter,” she said. He hadn’t asked her to do it, but she’d been making it anyway and he wasn’t going to complain about that.

  Nope. Instead, he made hers, too, and it became sort of a thing with them. “Yours is in the fridge. Make sure you keep it upright so it doesn’t leak when you ride over to have lunch with me.”

  True to her word, she’d taken two weeks off work to spend time with him, and he was enjoying every second of it. She listened to him, really listened to him, and made him feel like he was king of the world.

  Plus, she noticed the little things, like the way he took his coffee and put hot sauce on his eggs. The first time they’d had breakfast together at the diner in town, she’d noticed it. He came home later that day to find two bottles of it in the pantry.

  All in all, things were going his way. Their way, actually. When the time was right, he would confess everything to her and all would be right with the world again.

  “Logan, we need to talk,” she said in a familiar voice that irritated the shit out of him. What did he have to do to make her realize that he wanted to be here and wasn’t giving up anything by being married to her?

  “I’m not pregnant.” She twisted her hands together, and his heart pinched. Hard.

  Damn. He’d been excited in some ways about the possibility, but the fact that she wasn’t, while it was more than sad, wasn’t the end of the world. They could try again.

  “Now you don’t have to stay married to me.”

  He stared at her in anger and shock, but she wouldn’t look at him. “You still think that’s why I’m here?”

  She shrugged. “It’s the only thing that makes sense.”

  “Only to someone who makes no damn sense,” he growled.

  Willow finally looked at him, her heart breaking as she took in his sexy face and devastated eyes. He’d truly wanted the baby and that only made things worse.

  This morning, cramps had made it almost impossible for her to get dressed and the spotting in her panties confirmed what was going on.

  “It’s for the best, Logan. You can finally be with a woman you love.” Even if she had to see him with that woman. Even if she had to plan their wedding. She whimpered. “Find true happiness with her, too.”

  “Stop talking.”

  “I’ll help you. I know lots of single women and...” Oh God, her mouth wouldn’t stop talking. “I know they’d love to meet a catch like you.”

  “Fucking hell, I’m already married to the woman I love,” he shouted at her. “I’ve been in love with you since Vegas.”

  She staggered backward, her hand reaching out to find purchase. “What?”

  Confidence returned to his face and he crossed the distance between them, only to frame her face with his hands. “I’m in love with my wife. I’ve been in love with you since the beginning, but you’re too damn stubborn to realize it.”

  “You said we were off to a good start!”

  “I lied.”

  “So did I,” she snapped. “I’ve never loved you. I’d never be in love with someone who tricked me into... into... Well, you know what you did!”

  That infernal man laughed at her, then he kissed her until she was breathless. “You are so in love with me that you can’t stand it, and I’m in love with you, my sweet Christmas bride.”

  “Even though there’s no baby?”

  He nodded. “Oh yeah.” Then he got down on one knee and pulled out a box. “I’ve been carrying this around with me for days now, waiting for the right time.”

  She gasped and put her hand over mouth.

  “And this still isn’t the right time.” He got up and grabbed her hand as she followed him in disbelief.

  “I don’t understand. “

  “I want to finish our honeymoon before I marry you again.”

  “I still don’t understand,” she said faintly.

  He gave her a wicked grin and all but ripped their clothes off. “You will.”

  In what seemed like seconds later, he was inside of her, his hips moving against hers, his cock buried deep inside. She clawed at his back, moaned his name, and came so hard that she saw stars.

  He joined her a minute later, his breathing harsh.

  When they came back to earth, he rolled to one side and whispered how much he loved her, how he loved taking care of her, and that maybe this time, he got her pregnant.

  “You want kids that soon?” she asked, happy tears filling her eyes.

  He kissed the tip of her nose. “Yes. I want kids with you, a house full of them.”

  “How about two?”

  “Perfect,” he said, then his gaze turned serious. “Say you want to stay married to me, Blue Eyes.”

  “I do.”


  Chapter Twelve

  Two weeks later

  The entire town turned out for Willow’s wedding. It took a ton of planning and a lot of scheming, but in the end, Operation: Get Willow Her Dream Wedding went off without a hitch.

  His twin served as best man while Willow’s best friend served as matron of honor. Her father came back from vacation early to give her away.

  The town council had kept up the Christmas decorations, as well as the twenty-four-foot tree in the middle of the park. Every couple that Willow had worked with contributed in some way, with flowers, dresses, food, the cake... even the ring.

  Willow had been shocked, then had cried when he showed up at lunchtime with a wedding dress—one that Haven had assured him would not only fit, but was also the one Willow had wanted since birth or something—and strict instructions to get her tail in gear or else they’d miss the wedding.

  She’d thrown a pillow at him. He’d given her an engagement ring in return.

  A fair trade, he thought.

  Staring into Willow’s pretty eyes, he slipped the wedding ring on her finger. “I thee wed,” he recited the last of his vows to her.

  She smiled at him, her lips red and perfect. He couldn’t wait to get her alone.

  The preacher turned them toward the crowd and said into the microphone, “May I present, Mr. and Mrs. Ambrose.”

  Everyone cheered and clapped. Haven gave him a thumbs-up. Without her help, he wouldn’t have had a prayer of pulling it off.

  Finally, the wallflower was the one at the center of attention. Logan’s chest puffed out. His wife always deserved to be the center of attention.

  “Logan,” she whispered.

  “Yeah?”

  “We’re going to have a baby.”

  He blinked, his smile slipping. “Are you serious?”

  She nodded. “Those cramps and all... Well, it wasn’t my period. I went to Dr. Sellman this morning for a blood test, and it came back positive for pregnancy.”

  His heart swelled so big that he was sure it would push through his tux. “Holy shit, Blue Eyes.”

  “Are you happy?”

  “I’m delirious.”

  She elbowed him.

  “Deliriously happy,” he said, kissing her. He didn’t care if it was the right time or not. Everyone who was waiting to congratulate them could wait longer.

  “I love you, husband.”

  “Not as much as I love you, wife,” he said, his hand slipping to her belly.

  Epilogue

  Eight months later

  “It’s a girl,” the doctor said, holding up the baby while the nurse cut the umbilical cord. Logan had the opportunity to do it, but his hands were shaking too much and he worried that he’d do it wrong.

  Dr. Sellman smiled as she placed the baby on Willow’s chest. “What’s her name?”

  “Katalina Blue,” Willow said. “We named her for Logan’s biological mother.”

  “And for you,” Logan reminded her.

  “What will Mrs. Leah think of that?” the doctor asked, laughing.

  “It was her suggestion.” Logan smiled, tears in his eyes, as he looked at the most perfect baby girl he’d ever seen in his life. “She’s beautiful, just like her momma,” he said in a hoarse whisper, then wiped his tears away with the back of his hand. Leaning forward, he kissed Willow on the forehead. “Thank you.”

  She gave him an exhausted smile, her small hands on Katalina’s back, securing her in place. “I love you.”

  “Would you mind if I let everyone know?” he asked the doctor. “They’re waiting to come in.”

  “It’s on our birth plan, and I still want everyone to meet her,” Willow chimed in.

  Dr. Sellman nodded. “Give us about fifteen more minutes and we should be done. Afterbirth is next. Then we’ll get Willow all cleaned up, and baby Katalina as well.”

  Logan fought back a grimace. “Great.” He turned his attention back to his wife, rubbing his thumb along her sweat-coated brow. “I should have asked you first. Sorry. Got really excited.”

  “It’s okay.” She yawned. “I’m excited, too.”

  Logan counted his daughter’s fingers and toes, ran his fingers lightly over the dark mop of hair that was softer than down. Her little eyes opened, dark brown and blue at the center, and studied him.

  His world shifted once more, just like it had when he realized how much he loved her mother.

  “I’m your daddy, Kat.” He repeated the words in Spanish. “And I love you more than anything.”

  Kat yawned.

  Willow smiled, her eyes sleepy and rimmed in lavender. “I’m a mess,” she whispered, as if that was something to be ashamed of.

  “You spent nine months making a human and spent the last eighteen hours pushing her out, which makes you gorgeous.”

  “How could one woman be so lucky?” she said.

  “I ask myself that very question, every day.”

  She playfully narrowed her eyes. “Don’t you make me come after you, Logan.”

  He laughed, then brushed her hair back. “What I meant to say is that I‘m the luckiest man in the world to be married to a woman like you.”

  ***

  Keep reading for a sneak peek of Royal Scandal, the first book in a brand new contemporary romance series about royal siblings exiled to the US!

  A scandal is coming January 24...a Royal Scandal. Are you ready?

  Fairy tales do come true—and so do tabloid scandals! New York Times Bestselling author Marquita Valentine kicks off a juicy contemporary romance series with a novel about a prince whose best-laid plans go deliciously awry when he marries the maid next door.

  Forced to flee to the United States with his siblings after their parents' assassination, Crown Prince Colin Sinclair takes it upon himself to become the caretaker of his family while hiding out near Charlotte, North Carolina. But after a decade in hiding, the secret's out and Parliament demands that Colin wed a princess of their choosing. Unwilling to play their game, Colin decides to marry an American instead, and he has the perfect candidate in mind.

  As a home-service professional, Della Hughes doesn't believe in storybook endings. But when her best friend and secret crush reveals that he's a flesh-and-blood prince, she doesn't know what to think. Still, she'll do anything for Colin, including becoming his wife—in name only, of course. But when their plans to stay purely platonic go by the wayside, their fake honeymoon turns all too real. After a week of white-hot nights, Della can no longer deny her feelings—not with a happily ever after so tantalizingly close.

  PREORDER at iBooks: http://apple.co/29dXRtF

  Royal Scandal

  by Marquita Valentine

  (Excerpt used with permission. All rights reserved.)

  “Colin! When did you get here?” I can’t help but stare at him, at the way he wears a dark pair of dress pants and a button down shirt that’s open at the collar. The way he fills every bit of it out makes my pulse jump and my nerves dance. With his cufflinks and huge watch on his right wrist, he looks every bit the businessman.

  And every bit my fantasy.

  “About an hour ago. I had some paperwork to take care of at the office before I could rescue you from my boys.”

  “Your boys are a joy. Tressie says they keep her young,” I say, my cheeks suddenly heating at his intense gaze. “Anyway, how was your trip?”

  “Informative and frustrating.”

  Can trips to bang women really leave a man frustrated? Maybe he’s not doing anyone at all. Maybe it shouldn’t matter to me because we’re just friends.

  “Why don’t you pull up a chair and I’ll fix some tea for us.”

  “Actually, what I have to tell you calls for something a bit stronger.”

  I feel lightheaded. He’s getting married or he’s moving, I know it.

  “I don’t have anything stronger except for what Tressie uses for medicinal purposes.”

  His forehead scrunches. “She needs medical ca
re?”

  “No, it’s what ladies in the south call liquor that they regularly imbibe.” I wave a hand in the air. “Doesn’t matter. Just spill it.”

  “I’m afraid I haven’t been honest with you about who I really am,” he begins and my stomach drops to the floor. “While my name is Colin Sinclair, if we were back in my home country, I would be addressed as His Highness, the Crown Prince of the Isle, Colin Sinclair and people would bow to me.”

  My family and I were forced to flee our country due to our parents’ assassination. You wouldn’t have heard about it because very powerful people managed to scrub it entirely from the Internet and since we are an island monarchy that is responsible for transatlantic cable maintenance, the executives of Silicon Valley agreed to help.”

  “Della, say something.”

  “You’re joking,” I manage to say, although my voice sounds like it has a couple of frogs in my throat. He has to be. This is too surreal to be real. Princes don’t move to suburbs outside of Charlotte and live there for tens years without someone noticing.

  “Afraid not.” Colin shoves his hands into his pockets, then pulls them back out again, one hand going to an ear, fingers tugging on the lobe. Something he’s always done when he’s nervous. “It’s the ugly truth and if you can find it in your heart to believe me, I hope this changes nothing between us.”

  Nothing ever changes between us and now it really can’t—and I do believe him. Who would make something like this up? Colin’s not that guy. He’s ...

  I swallow.

  He’s a rich CEO with a highfalutin British accent and I’m ... not. I’ve never been ashamed of what I do for a living. Always done my best and taken pride in my work. Colin has never made me feel like I was beneath him.

  However, this ... this is a game changer. A fairy godmother can’t wave a wand to fix it either.

  I swallow, setting the mop and bucket I’ve been holding onto the kitchen floor. “Will you and your siblings go back to the UK now?”

  Please say no. Please. Please.

  “Not straightaway. We’re not English or subjects of the United Kingdom.” His forest-green gaze avoids mine. He stares at the granite countertop behind me. It’s sparkling clean, thanks to my amazing cleaning skills. “I have to get things sorted here first, and even then, nothing is guaranteed.”