Christmas Angel for the Billionaire

by Liz Fielding

  Two minutes later she was wrapped in the soft leather of the sports car that had been parked on the garage forecourt and heading towards Maybridge General.

  They exchanged barely two words as the car ate up the miles but, when he pulled into the pick-up bay a couple of minutes before three, Annie said, ‘There’s a parking space over there.’

  ‘It’s nearly three. Xandra will be here any minute.’

  She didn’t say a word.

  ‘Are you suggesting that she won’t?’

  ‘I’m suggesting that she’ll make you go and get her, so you might as well make a virtue out of a necessity.’

  ‘I could send you.’

  ‘You could. But then you’d have to come and get me too. Always supposing I don’t take the opportunity to leave by another entrance.’

  ‘Without your bag?’

  ‘I could replace everything in it in ten minutes.’

  ‘A thousand pounds won’t go far if you’re travelling by public transport. Staying at hotels.’

  Again she said nothing.

  ‘There’s more? How much?’

  ‘You’ll have to search me to discover that,’ she said, glancing at him. ‘I won’t resist.’

  His hands tightened on the steering wheel, the knuckles turning white.

  ‘Go and visit your father. It would make your mother happy, make Xandra happy. And me. It would make me very happy.’

  ‘And why would I give a damn whether you’re happy or not?’

  He was so stubborn. He knew it was the right thing to do, wanted to build bridges with his daughter, but pride kept him from taking that first step. She’d just have to give him a little push.

  ‘Because, if you don’t, George, I’ll be the one calling the tabloids to tell them that Lady Rose isn’t in Bab el Sama but holed up at Saxon’s Garage. With her lover.’

  ‘Lover!’

  ‘Why spoil a good story by telling the truth?’ she said. ‘They certainly won’t.’

  ‘You wouldn’t do that.’

  Exactly what she’d said when he’d threatened her.

  ‘Within an hour of our return from the hospital there’ll be television crews, photographers and half the press pack on your doorstep.’

  ‘They wouldn’t believe you. They’ve seen you get on a plane.’

  ‘So what? You were bluffing?’

  ‘Of course I was bluffing!’

  He cared, she thought. Cared enough.

  So did she.

  ‘Take your pick, George. Visit your father or let me go.’

  George dragged both hands through his hair. ‘I can’t. Please, Annie, you must see that. If anything happened to you-’

  ‘You’d never forgive yourself? Oh, dear. That is unfortunate because, you see, I’m not bluffing. And I know those journalists well enough to convince them I’m not some fantasist sending them on a wild-goose chase.’ She held her breath. Would he believe her? After what seemed like the longest moment in history, he glared at her, then pulled over into the empty space she’d pointed out. Cut the engine.

  ‘This isn’t going to work,’ he said, releasing his seat belt, climbing out. ‘Whatever it is you think you’re doing.’ She jumped as he vented his frustration on the car door, but made no move to get out, forcing him to walk around to the passenger door and open it for her.

  George watched as she swung her long legs over the sill, stood up and, without a word, walked towards the entrance of the hospital.

  ‘You know that’s a dead giveaway too,’ he said when he caught up with her. ‘Modern independent women can usually manage a car door.’

  ‘If you insist on acting as my bodyguard, George, I’ll insist on treating you like one.’

  ‘Remind me why they call you the nation’s sweetheart?’ he said.

  ‘Sweetheart, angel, virgin.’ She stopped without warning and looked at him, a tiny frown wrinkling her smooth forehead. ‘Am I still the people’s virgin?’ she asked, her clear voice carrying down the corridor. ‘Technically?’

  ‘Annie!’ He grabbed her elbow in an attempt to hurry her past a couple of nurses who’d turned to stare. ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’

  ‘Behaving badly?’ she offered, staying stubbornly put. ‘It’s a new experience for me and I’m rather enjoying it. But you didn’t answer my question. Am I-’

  ‘Don’t say another word,’ he snapped. He didn’t want to talk about it. Or think about it. Fat chance. He hadn’t been able to think about anything else all afternoon and while his head was saying no, absolutely no, a thousand times no, his body was refusing to listen. ‘It’s this way.’

  But it wasn’t. His father had improved sufficiently to be moved out of the cardiac suite and into a small ward. Xandra was sitting cross-legged on the bed, Santa hat perched on her head, while his father occupied an armchair beside it. He was laughing at something she’d said and it was obvious that they were on the same wavelength, despite the generation gap. That they liked one another. Were friends. Everything that he and his father were not. Everything that he and his daughter were not.

  They both froze as they saw him.

  ‘I was just coming,’ Xandra said, immediately defensive.

  ‘No problem,’ he lied. ‘We were a bit early.’

  ‘Is this Annie?’ his father asked, looking beyond him. ‘Xandra’s been telling me all about you.’

  ‘Oh, dear…’ she stepped forward, hand extended-a scene reminiscent of every news clip he’d ever seen of a royal hospital visit ‘…I don’t like the sound of that!’ Then, ‘How d’you do, Mr Saxon?’

  ‘I do very well, thank you,’ he said. ‘Certainly well enough to get out of here.’

  ‘I’m glad to hear it.’

  George wondered how many times she’d done that. Visited a total stranger in hospital, completely at ease, sure of her welcome.

  ‘Xandra is a tonic,’ he said. Then, finally turning to grudgingly acknowledge him, ‘You’ve managed to drag yourself into the garage, I see.’

  ‘Mike is picking up the Bentley in an hour.’

  The nod his father managed was as close as he’d ever come to a thank you and he thought that was it, but he said, ‘We’ve been looking after his cars ever since he started the business. I’m glad we didn’t let him down.’ And then he looked up. ‘Thanks, son.’

  The words were barely audible but he’d said them and it was George’s turn to be lost for words.

  It was Annie who broke the silence. ‘Where’s Hetty?’

  ‘She went to the shop to get Granddad an evening paper,’ Xandra said, watching them both.

  ‘You could die of boredom in here,’ his father said, with considerably more force in his voice than the day before. ‘I don’t care what that doctor says, I’m going home tomorrow.’

  ‘Dad…’ he protested.

  ‘Your mother will take care of me,’ he said stubbornly, the brief moment of rapport already history.

  Annie’s hand grabbed his before he let slip his first response, which was to tell him not to be so selfish.

  ‘We’ll all take care of you,’ Xandra said quickly, looking at him, her eyes pleading with him to say that it would be all right. As if what he said actually mattered.

  They were all taking tiny steps here and for a moment he clung to Annie’s hand as if to a lifeline. She squeezed his fingers, encouraging him to take the risk, throw his heart into the ring.

  ‘If that’s what you want,’ he said, ‘I’m sure we’ll manage. Especially since Annie is staying on for a while to help out.’

  ‘Really?’ Xandra grinned. ‘Great. You can help me put up the decorations.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Annie said, but she was looking at him. ‘I’d like that.’ Then, turning to his father, ‘But you really must listen to the doctor, Mr Saxon. If you come home too soon, you’ll be back in here for Christmas.’

  His father regarded her thoughtfully. Then, taking note of the way their hands were interlinked and apparently putti
ng one and one together and making a pair, he smiled with satisfaction. ‘Maybe you’re right, Annie. I don’t suppose another day or two will kill me.’

  Setting himself up for yet another disappointment that he’d get the blame for, George thought, and removing his hand from hers, he said, ‘We’d better go, Xandra. Mike is coming for the car at four.’

  She bounced off the bed, gave her granddad a hug. Then, transferring the Santa hat from her own head to his, she said, ‘Behave yourself. And don’t let Gran stay so late tonight. She was too tired to eat last night.’

  ‘Really?’ He shook his head. ‘Silly woman. I’ll make sure she leaves early.’

  ‘Thanks for thinking about your gran,’ he said as they headed for the car.

  ‘She can’t bear to leave him there on his own.’ She turned to Annie. ‘They absolutely dote on one another, you know. It’s really sweet.’ Then, taking advantage of his approval, she said, ‘Can you drop me off in town? I’ll catch the bus home.’

  ‘I thought we’d decided that you’re grounded.’

  ‘Oh, absolutely,’ she said. ‘But this isn’t for me. We’ve only got indoor lights. I’ll have to get some new ones for the outside tree.’ Then, ‘Annie could come with me if you like. Just to make sure I don’t have any fun.’

  ‘Actually, I could do with a run at the shops,’ Annie said before he could voice his objection to the idea of Lady Roseanne Napier, her underwear stuffed with cash and about as street-smart as a newborn lamb, let loose in the Christmas crowds with only a teenager for protection. ‘I came away with the bare minimum.’

  Oh, no…

  The look in her eye told him she knew exactly what he was thinking.

  ‘I’ll do my absolute best to make sure that neither of us have any fun,’ she assured him. ‘Although I can’t positively guarantee it.’

  Xandra’s face lit up. Annie did that to people, he thought. Lit them up. His mother, his father, his daughter. They all responded to that effortless charm, the natural warmth she exuded, but he’d done a lot more than just light up.

  He’d lit up, overloaded, blown every fuse in his brain as he’d surrendered, had let down a barrier he’d been building against the world ever since the day when, years younger than Xandra, he’d understood that he was on his own.

  Only now, when he knew that any kind of relationship between them was impossible, did he understand just how exposed he’d left himself.

  Keeping his distance emotionally from this woman who was so far out of his orbit that he might as well be on Mars was now an absolute necessity. As was keeping her safe. But forbidding her to leave the house wasn’t an option either.

  ‘It’s Friday so the shops will be open late, won’t they?’ he asked.

  ‘I suppose.’

  ‘In that case, if you’re prepared to wait until after Mike’s collected the Bentley, I’ll take you both into town. We could pick up the takeaway on the way home.’

  It sounded reasonable but he wasn’t looking at Annie, knowing that she’d have raised that eyebrow a fraction, telling him that she was winning this stand-off hands down, instead concentrating on his daughter, willing her to say yes.

  ‘You want to come shopping with us?’ She sounded doubtful.

  ‘Same deal as always,’ he replied. ‘I drive, you do the hard work.’

  ‘That means you’re going to have to carry your own bags to the car,’ Annie said. ‘Obviously, as a lady of rather more advanced years, I will expect him to carry mine.’ She laid the lightest emphasis on the word ‘lady’. She tilted an eyebrow at him. Taunting him. No, teasing him. ‘Do you have a problem with that, George?’

  ‘I can live with it,’ he said, refusing to meet her gaze, afraid he might just break down and laugh. He was too angry with her to laugh. Too angry with himself for wanting to wrap his arms around her, hold her, kiss her, beg her never to leave because most of all he wanted her.

  ‘What a hero,’ she said gently. ‘And the three of us could put up those trees while we’re waiting.’

  And right there and then, knowing that Christmas brought her a world of pain, he thought his heart might break that she would do that for his daughter. For him.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  T HREE hours later, the car parked, her arm tucked firmly in George’s-it was clear he wasn’t going to let her stray from his side-Annie stood in the centre of Maybridge. There were lights everywhere and a brass band was playing Christmas carols as crowds of shoppers searched out presents for their loved ones.

  Somewhere, in her subconscious, she knew this was how Christmas was meant to be, but now she was touching it, feeling it as she was jostled by shoppers laden with bags, excited children who’d spotted ‘Santa’ in a mock-up sleigh, collecting for a local charity. Noisy, joyful, it was a world away from Christmas as she knew it.

  ‘What do you need?’ George asked.

  This. This normality. This man, she thought, as she looked up at him and for a moment the carols, the lights faded.

  ‘Annie?’

  This moment, she thought, refusing to think about next week.

  ‘Just a few basic essentials. Underwear, another pair of jeans-these are a bit big,’ she said, tugging at the waist. ‘Nothing fancy.’

  ‘I know just the place,’ Xandra said. She paused at the entrance to a large store, glanced at her father. ‘You might want to give this a miss.’

  ‘If you think you can scare me away with threats of female undergarments, think again.’

  ‘You are so embarrassing.’

  ‘I understood it was a parent’s duty to embarrass their offspring,’ he replied, unmoved.

  ‘Oh, please! I’ll wait here,’ she said, taking out her cellphone, her thumb already busy texting before she reached the nearest bench.

  ‘I won’t be long,’ Annie said, then, realising that he wasn’t going to let her out of his sight, proceeded to test his assertion. Faced with the choice between six-packs of pants in plain white, mixed colours or patterned, she asked him to choose.

  He took all three packs and dropped them in the basket, lips firmly sealed.

  She tried on jeans while he stood guard at the changing room door, modelling them for him. By the time they reached the socks he’d had enough and, after looking down at her feet, he gathered up a pair of each before she could tease him further.

  ‘Spoilsport,’ she said.

  ‘You’d better believe it,’ he said.

  She added a sweater and three tops to the basket and then queued up to pay.

  ‘That was fun,’ she said, handing the bags to George and waving to Xandra before obediently slipping her hand through the elbow he’d stuck out. ‘What now?’

  ‘Food?’ he suggested, heading for a van from which the tantalising smell of frying onions was wafting. ‘Who fancies a hot dog?’

  ‘Not for me,’ Xandra said, backing away. ‘I need some shampoo. Can I get you anything, Annie?’

  ‘Please.’ By the time she’d given Xandra some money, George had a halfeaten hot dog in one hand. ‘Are they good?’

  ‘You’ve never had one?’ He shook his head. ‘Stupid question.’

  He ordered two. ‘I missed lunch,’ he said, catching her look as he sucked mustard from his thumb.

  ‘Me too,’ she said, holding his gaze as she took one of them from him.

  He looked away first, which wasn’t as pleasing as it should have been and, taking the only comfort on offer, she bit deep into the bun, reminding herself that she was in search of new experiences.

  Who knew when she’d share another hot dog moment with a seriously sexy man?

  It must have been the fumes of the mustard hitting the back of her throat that brought tears to her eyes, making her choke.

  ‘Better?’ George asked, helpfully thumping her back. Leaving his hand there.

  ‘Not much,’ she said, dropping the remains of the hot dog in the bin. ‘It’s been quite a day for new experiences.’

  He removed his hand as
if burned. ‘What’s keeping Xandra?’

  She sighed. ‘She said she’d meet us by the Christmas tree in the square.’

  All the trees that surrounded the square had white lights threaded through their bare branches, creating a fairyland arena for the seasonal ice rink that had been created in the central plaza and throwing the huge Christmas tree, ablaze with colour, into vivid contrast.

  But it wasn’t the figures on the ice or the lights that brought George to an abrupt halt. It was the sight of his daughter, sitting on a bench, much too close to the boy from the Christmas tree farm.

  ‘The damned lights were just an excuse to come into town and meet him,’ he declared but, as he surged forward, Annie stepped in front of him, a hand on his chest.

  ‘They could have met by chance.’

  He looked at her. ‘Do you really believe that?’

  ‘Does it matter? She chose to wait and come into town with you.’

  ‘She wanted to come on her own.’

  ‘Oh, for heaven’s sake, I could shake you!’ She took a deep breath, then, slowly, talking to him as if he were a child, she said, ‘Don’t you understand? Xandra got herself suspended from school deliberately. Mrs Warburton would have let her go and visit her grandfather in hospital, but she didn’t want an afternoon off school. She wanted to be with you.’

  ‘That’s ridiculous,’ he said. He took another step but Annie didn’t budge. ‘I tried,’ he said. ‘It’s not easy from the other side of the Atlantic, but I’ve tried and tried to be a father-I even applied for joint custody.’

  ‘The Family Court turned you down?’

  ‘Penny told them that she would be confused. She was already that. Calling her new husband Daddy, ignoring me. Wouldn’t come and see me in London when I was here on business. Wouldn’t come to the States, even when I offered the theme park incentive.’

  ‘She doesn’t want theme parks,’ she said. ‘She wants you.’

  ‘But-’

  ‘Not in America, not in London, but here.’

  He spread his arms, indicating that she’d got what she wanted.

  ‘That’s just the beginning. She’s not going to make it easy for you. She’ll test you and test you. Keep pushing you away to see how resilient you are. Whether you love her enough to stay.’